Showing posts with label Paul Bowles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Paul Bowles. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 22, 2017

"Paul Bowles on Music" edited by Timothy Mangan and Irene Herrmann (University of California Press)

ISBN: 9780520236554 University of California Press

Paul Bowles, the writer, meets Bowles the composer, who wrote music criticism in the 1940s.   The critiques he wrote in themselves are not that fascinating, but what's interesting is the culture that was presented in New York City during that era, and the coverage of the mainstream media at the time, with someone smart and brilliant as Bowles covering the "Waterfront." 

Bowles as most of us knows as readers is a writer of great skill but also wrote from a great distance.  His work, especially his short stories, is reporting another culture, which is odd, strange, and unknown to the westerner.   In a sense, Bowles was the head ant investigating the other culture for food and music and reported back to the American culture of that and future time.  What you see here is Bowles, primarily a composer at the time, writing about various music recitals/concerts that took place in Manhattan.  The majority of the events are classical recitals, but there are some side trips to see jazz (at mostly big venues) and folk (again, in major concert halls of the time).  He doesn't go to jazz or folk nightclubs to do his reporting, but mostly to places like Carnegie Hall and so forth.  So, in a sense, he's reporting on music culture, not for the specialist, but in most cases for the casual reader who looks through the newspaper for local news or events.  Some articles he did write for special interest publications, but even these pieces are geared for a broad readership.

As a writer and a publisher, as well as someone who loves music and music criticism, I find Bowles extremely important.  For one, I love his music, what I have heard so far, and two, it's fascinating to notice his 'place' in that society that was New York.  He was very interested in other cultures even in the 1940s, and often it seems like he went to South and Central America to discover new music, but was disappointed to realize that even then, countries were officially hindering certain type of music for a more commercial take on that world.   Bowles also covered film movie music for a specialist magazine in that field.  As far as I can gather, he would go to see the film, and just report on the music how it was used in the film.  That's interesting!  Also, he reviewed books on music (again, mostly classical, but some books on jazz) as well as recordings.  So he was probably one of the earliest critics to talk about records, for a well-read journal/newspaper, the New York Herald Tribune.   Also, there is an interview with Bowles, one of his last conversations with an interviewer about him working as a critic.  That alone is a fascinating document.  

Tuesday, December 30, 2014

December 30, 2014



December 30, 2014

I have a series of role-models that I use, just to get myself out of bed every morning.  In fact, I have a closet full of role-models, because when you get down to it, it’s the clothing that makes the man, even if you are a bad dresser, it is the window to your soul.  Not the eyes.   When I was 33 years old, I received some money and resolved to spend every last drop of it on a trip to Europe.  I went with my friend Kimley, who I worked with at the Licorice Pizza store in West Los Angeles.   It was the first time that I did something so adult-like.  But now I remember the real reason why I went to Europe was to see a girl there that I had a brief affair with in Los Angeles.  I just wanted to continue the affair, but not here in Los Angeles, but in London, where she now lived.  One would say it was an act of love or passion, but the truth is I needed to remove myself from where I lived, so I can change, and change was the genuine passion for the trip.   Making love to her was just a side-dish.  I was curious about having a sex life in London, and would it be like anything in Los Angeles?   Ironically enough, I didn’t have sex at all while I was in London or in Europe - I mostly wandered around in various cold landscapes trying to find myself in a new light.

The role-model for this specific trip was Paul Bowles, a writer that I greatly admire.  To be the point, the one thing that impressed me the most about him was hearing that he traveled with many, many suitcases.  So I decided to not only bring two or three suits, including ties, and a hat to come with each suit, but also a mini-version of my library.  I remember choosing Frank Sinatra recordings as well to put in my portable cassette player.  Kimley also had her version of the cassette player with her music - so we had a he and she music thing going.  Memory is that she had Alex Chilton cassettes - both solo as well as with Big Star - and besides my Sinatra, I think I had Les Rita Mitsouko as well.   



The plan we made was to go to London first, and that was basically the whole plan for the trip.  We bought one-way tickets to London, with not the slightest idea when or if we will return to Los Angeles.  We both quit our jobs in the last day, and I remember leaving a note to my manager at the store saying the “next time you will see me, I’ll be a girl.” I haven’t the foggiest idea why I wrote that, but I wanted to do something dramatic and important-like.  

We went to London, and we stayed with the girl that I had the affair with.  It seemed on her part, that the affair was over, finished, and mostly forgotten by her.   That was a shock to my system.  Luckily I chose the Sinatra soundtrack for this trip, so it wasn’t a total disaster.  But I did discover London as an adult, and that was a real eye-opener for me.  For my whole life, I worshipped London as the cultural landscape to end all cultural landscapes.  But once I got there, I found it very cold, and there seemed to be a depression added to the cityscape.   To this day, I don’t know if it was me, or the city itself.   I think London recognized a poor soul, and tried its best to welcome me to the British world.   I think we stayed in London for three weeks, before proceeding to Paris.



I never been to Paris before, and it was even a bigger fantasy land to me than even London.  Everything I thought I would love about Paris, was truly there in front of me.   I think we stayed for three weeks, and then decided to take a train to Rome.   Rome only meant two things to me: Fellini and Pasolini - and that was it.   I remember we took a train and we traveled with a French grandmother and her grandchild.  They were eating cheese and bread, and were incredibly polite and quiet.  I took a nap on the train and woke up with an Italian grandmother and her Italian grandchild.  She was screaming at him, and he was crying and hitting her over her entire body.  At the same time, the grandmother was trying to cut pieces of dry salami for the child.  I had to walk out of the cabin with Kimley, and we both discovered that we were surrounded by Italians.  We were not in France anymore that’s for sure.  



When we arrived in Rome, a young good looking man immediately took our suitcases and told us to keep pace with him.  We didn’t think twice if it was alright or not, in fact, I thought it was a Paul Bowles type of thing.  So of course we followed him.  He took us to a hotel that had marbled floors, but no bathroom.  I remember I had to piss, so I pissed in the sink by the side of my bed.   I found Rome to be more Pasolini than Fellini, and I was profoundly impressed with the Roman police, because of the way they were dressed.  The motorcycle cops had knee length leather boots, and carried small machine guns.  Their helmets were beautifully designed and I loved how they look.  In fact, the entire police force was good looking.  Some even had a feather in their cap.   I never come upon dandy cops before in my life.   From Rome we went to Florence, which seemed like the perfect Italian city - I remember hearing the Style Council in all the pizza joints as well as the fine restaurants.  We went to Venice, but only for a day.  We were thinking of staying over night, but the hotels were either crowded or very expensive.  Also the city was too beautiful for me.  Ironically enough, at the time, there were posters and banners all over Venice, for an upcoming retrospective Futurism exhibition.  The irony being that the Futurists wanted to pave Venice with cement.  Now, Venice is still there (or barely) and Futurism is something out of the past. 

From Florence, we went to Munich Germany.  The first thing I saw when I left the train was a German with a Hitler moustache and wearing leather shorts.   And beer.  It seems Munich was very much drunk on beer.   We went to a beer garden, and ordered beer.  The beer came in huge glasses, that seemed obscene to me at the time.  Nevertheless I drank the whole glass, and not exactly did I become intoxicated, but really full.   The third surprise was the food that they served at our hotel.   For breakfast, we had cold luncheon meats and soft -boiled eggs.   It was pretty disgusting.   My thoughts on Munich were that it was downtown ancient German culture.   Also it was very clean.   The people and the streets were both immaculate.   From there, we went to Hamburg, because the Beatles went to Hamburg.  Also my grandmother was from Hamburg as well.   This port town was very impressive to me, because we went to another beer garden and someone threw a glass of beer over our heads and it smashed against the wall.   I didn’t know if this was the usual Hamburg greeting for visitors, but I tipped my hat towards their aim.  Also Hamburg was very sexy, due that both men and women wore leather pants. It was like the whole city was either pre-beatle Hamburg look or more likely Jim Morrison fanatics.   We then went to West Berlin, which at the time, appeared to be in the middle of East Germany.  I remember being on the train and German police came on with German Sheperds to check out our passports. 



Once we arrived in Berlin, it felt like Los Angeles to me.  The cops there wore short-sleeved shirts, and seemed to be more casual.   Also the streets were wide, and unlike the streets of Europe.   One thing that stays in my mind was going to a bookstore and that store having a gigantic display of Herman Hesse books.  It seemed that they re-issued the books with all Andy Warhol covers.  At the time, I thought it was a weird mixture of having Warhol doing the Hesse covers, but then again, perhaps it is him going back to his roots as a graphic designer for book and album covers.   Also we visited a large record store, and I was amazed to see all the vinyl albums were unwrapped - in the words they weren’t shrink-wrapped like they are in the States.   It’s the little things that make the big impressions while one travels.

After being in Berlin for a while, we went back to Paris and stayed there I think for three or four more weeks, and then back to London to fly back home.  We intended to stay forever, but we both ran out of money.   To this day, I don’t really plan ahead, the only reason I leave a place is either out of boredom or the money ran out.   But I did wear a suit everyday on our tour of Europe.   A year later I got some more money and went back to Europe again - this time alone.   Yet, I was still in a Paul Bowles mood.  I will be for the rest of my life. 


Sunday, July 6, 2014

July 6, 2014



July 6, 2014

Today being the first Sunday of the month, it’s record swap meet day at the Pasadena City College, but alas, I can’t go, due to my daily job of writing a journal entry everyday this year (2014).  I could have cheated by writing one last night, and posting it early in the morning, but that would be not fair to me or to my readers.  The truth is I’m pretty much defined by not only by my everyday writing here, but also my vast collection of books and records.  In fact, when I die, I want to make my collection to be a part of a museum - which now, I think it should be the “Museum of Tosh.” This of course will be organized after my death, which in all honesty, is probably around the corner.  Nevertheless it never is too early to plan one’s estate and how it should benefit the general public, or at the very least a definite percentage of that public.

If you put a money value to my collection, it will not be significant, but what is important is that it is very much a self-portrait.  In fact, I would argue that compared to a photograph of me, or a “selfie,” my collection totally exposes my concerns, my loves, my passion, and in other words, the total world that is “me” and only “me.” Therefore if I was going to leave anything on this planet after my spirit leaves the earth, it should be my book and record collection.  Not to be played or read really, but more to the fact that one can enter my house and look at the bookshelves and see how my albums are stacked in various parts of the house. What I have is not really rare in the sense of recording being in its original pressing, but more of the ‘taste’ factor in having such a record in my collection.  Also bear in mind the fact that I have only albums that have great graphics.  One thing I can’t stand is an album that looks bad in my collection.  The cover can be torn up, the recording scratched up, but it needs to be a really cool looking album cover at the very least.

I think I have around 1,000 albums, which is not a lot, but the art of my record collection is keeping the inventory low, and the quality high.  Records that were made in the early or mid-60s is a significant interest for me.  I only obtain albums that are mono, because I feel the artists that time only listened to the mono mix.  That was the format, and stereo was just for Hi-Fi goons.  When I play one of my mono albums, I imagine the artist hearing that record with me.  I actually transport myself to a definite time and place, with that musician hearing this music for the first time.



I have this obsession with The Shadows’ first bass player, Jet Harris.  You need to understand that music is not only for the ears, but also the eyes, and therefore it is important for me that the artist is either good looking, or at the very least, interesting appearance.  Jet is unique to me because he is sort of a lead bass player, and most important of all, he looked incredible.   I collect Shadows albums, but only if Jet was in the line-up.  Also he must be on the album cover as well. In all honesty, The Shadows made great recordings throughout their long career, but the ones that are the most interesting, of course, are the early years with Jet Harris.  For me it’s the matching suits, the dance steps, and the spare sound of their instruments that makes it the classic Shadows world.  Also note, Jet Harris had blonde hair, and the rest of the band had dark hair.   For a band which had such a strong uniformed look, it’s amazing that they allowed Jet to keep his blonde hair in this band.  I also feel the same way with Brian Jones in The Rolling Stones.  The fact that his hair was blonde, compared to the rest of the band, made Brian stand out.  It is ironic that when Jet and Brian left their bands, they were replaced by musicians who had dark hair.



With respect to the Pasadena Record Swap Meet, the two most interesting albums I purchased there, are now my most favorite recordings.  The first album I bought there was Liberace’s “Liberace At Home” that came out in 1956 and on the Columbia record label.  It’s a fascinating album because it is just Liberace and his piano, and I don’t know for sure if he recorded the album in his house, but it is a very intimate recording and warm sounding.  Also the album is kind of a dark pit in Liberace’s soul.  Songs like “Smoke Gets In Your Eyes,” “I’m Always Chasing Rainbows,” and “Solitude” are almost overwhelming in its ability to place the listener in a blue funk of despair, yet we need the poison to appreciate the beauty in life.  Without the darkness, there would be no light.



The second album of interest is “A Picnic Cantata, Sonata for Two Pianos” by piano players Arthur Gold and Robert Fizdale.   The interesting part of this album is side one, which “A Picnic Cantata” composed by Paul Bowles, with lyrics by the poet James Schuyler.  The album came out on Columbia Records in 1954, but only released in Canada for some odd reason.  I know very little of Bowles music, but he is one of my favorite prose writers, and I love Schuyler’s poetry.  So this purchase was a no-brainer for me, and I have to say it’s an incredible piece of music.  Lyrically it is about a group of women who have decided to go on a picnic, and that is basically it.  The fact that the narrative is like a straight line from beginning to end, is superb to me.  No highs and no lows.  Just one consistent hum with beautiful music by Bowles sang for three operatic singers.  Both albums are perfection and the fact that I bought two such classy recordings at an indoor parking lot in Pasadena makes it even more important to me

Although once I’m gone (really gone) I don’t think I’ll miss the lack of attention, but now that I’m living (at this time) it’s important that I get notice and attention.  Therefore the thought of the museum is extremely important to me.  Afterwards, probably wouldn’t be an issue.