August 2, 2014

August 2, 2014

My father received two books from his father, who died, when my dad was 12.   The books he left for my dad was a collection of short stories by Oscar Wilde and T. E. Lawrence’s “Seven Pillars of Wisdom.” The latter I think expressed my dad’s sense of adventure and grandness.  Some saw him as a quiet man, but I always saw him as being larger than life.  When he died he didn’t leave me a lot of possessions, but I think I inherited his romanticism of art and the grand gesture that make him special in my eyes.  Perhaps “Lawrence of Arabia” is part of a romantic tradition that men of a certain age could rise to admire.  It’s interesting to me that the actor Peter O’Toole who played Lawrence, is the same generation as my father’s - so perhaps due to the ugliness of World War 2 and the racism of that era, they were drawn to another time where men could enjoy the masculine relationship among themselves, as well as galloping in the desert.

My father is well known for making a journal/zine/mail art publication called “Semina.” Every copy was hand-made by my father, and he only gave it out to people who he found interesting or liked/loved.  It was a personal gesture to another person, and Wallace I think believed that it was important or at the very least, some interest to the given from the giver.  Lawrence also made unique editions of “Seven Pillars of Wisdom” where he made only eight copies.  He couldn’t afford to have the book typed out, so he got the text typeset and printed on a proofing press at the Oxford Times printing works.  With those eight copies, he obtained ownership of all eight copies, and chose who was permitted to read them.  Even that, this was not perfect copies of the text, due to transcription errors (as a publisher and editor this is hell) and in places lines and even whole paragraphs are missing.  He put forward some of his corrections by hand in at least five of those eight bound copies.

To be honest, I have only faint memories of the film “Lawrence of Arabia, ” due to my age at the time.  But what I do clearly remember is the beginning of the film with the motorcycle footage.  I really identified with that, because at the time, and as a child, I would ride with my father on his motorcycle throughout the hills of Bel Air.  This was before the helmet law, so both of us could feel the cold air hitting our nasal passage and eyes.  My dad liked to scream while riding the bike through the hills, and he would encourage me to do the same. It seemed like the real-life Lawrence had a thing for motorcycles.  He owned 8 Brough Superior motorcycles. They were considered to be the Rolls Royce of cycles and even though ceased production of the motorcycles right after World War ll, they were still making parts up to 1969.   My father drove a Triumph, and like the Brough Superior, their bikes were quite beautiful.

Poetry was one of the foundations of my dad’s aesthetic, and it is interesting that he used “Semina” as a exploration of that art, as well as Lawrence’s love for poetry.   The dedication in Lawrence’s “Seven Pillars of Wisdom” is of great interest because it is not clear if he’s writing about the Arabs or an individual: Here’s the poem:

I loved you, so I drew these tides of
Men into my hands
And wrote my will across the
Sky and stars
To earn you freedom, the seven
Pillared worthy house,
That your eyes might be
Shining for me
When I came

Death seemed my servant on the
Road, 'til we were near
And saw you waiting:
When you smiled and in sorrowful
Envy he outran me
And took you apart:
Into his quietness

Love, the way-weary, groped to your body,
Our brief wage
Ours for the moment
Before Earth's soft hand explored your shape
And the blind
Worms grew fat upon
Your substance

Men prayed me that I set our work,
The inviolate house,
As a memory of you
But for fit monument I shattered it,
Unfinished: and now
The little things creep out to patch
Themselves hovels
In the marred shadow
Of your gift
 -T. E. Lawrence


I often think how an individual can relate to another individual, and what they may or may not share.  But for whatever reason, when I see the image of Lawrence of Arabia, I don’t think of Peter O’Toole, but my father on his motorcycle.

June 1, 2014

June 1, 2014

Oddly enough, I don’t own “Sargent Pepper’s Lonely Heart’s Club Band” album.  Yet, without a doubt, it is one album that made a significant change in my life.  Around March of 1967, my father received a large envelope that was addressed from London.  He wasn’t home at the time, but I made telephone contact with Wallace letting him know that he got mail from the United Kingdom.  Over the phone, he asked me to open the envelope to let him know what was inside the mail.   What came out was a black and white photograph and a letter, addressed to Wallace.  It was a very formal business letter and it came from Brian Epstein, who I knew at the time was the manager of The Beatles.   There was no specific information in the letter, but just asking my father to sign it, and then mail it back.  It also made a comment about receiving money as well, but it was in pounds, and being 11 or 12 years old at the time, it didn’t make sense to me.  Neither did the photograph that came with the letter.  My first impression was an image of a funeral, with all the people at the ceremony facing the camera.  The image was in black and white, and the picture had a flatness to it, like nothing stands out, except the whole picture itself.  Thinking back on it now, it reminds me of a Kabuki stage. 

  I have been to the Kabuki at least twice, and what impressed me was the lighting and staging of the narrative didn’t make any of the actors to stand out from the rest of the production or even sets.  Everything fit perfectly, and was in unison with the narrative, the acting, the lighting and sets.  All of it was equivalent to each other and none stood out.  Rarely have I seen something like that on a stage or even in a picture.  So thinking back and looking at this black and white image, I couldn’t focus on one thing.  I had to take the whole picture in front of me, and it demanded my attention from the very first glance.  Especially when my dad asked me what the picture was.  I told him that I wasn't sure what it was.  We then talked about something else, but my thoughts and eyes were on the image in front of me, and I was barely paying attention to the conversation.  When all of sudden, I realized that at least four of the guys in the photograph, were The Beatles.  Why I didn't recognize them right away was due to their outfits, which were turn-of-the-century marching costuming.  That, plus they all had facial hair, and John Lennon was wearing spectacles.  It is difficult to believe, due to the Internet and instant news we have now, but in 1967, the news and images came around slower.  The last time I saw a picture of the fab four, was them dressed in "Revolver" era clothing.  They still looked like The Beatles during that time, but here on this picture, they looked like different men to me.  The photograph didn't yell out the fab four to me, and at that age, I was a huge fan of The Beatles. 

The next big shocker for me was finally seeing the image of my dad in this photograph.   Whatever our conversation was at that moment I interrupt him and told him that there is an image of him on this photo and it is with The Beatles.  Wallace wasn’t surprised or even curious at that point, he just wanted to continue with our conversation.  Eventually he told me to put the letter and photo on the table and he’ll look at it when he got home.   When he did come home, he did look at it, and realize that Epstein was asking permission to use his image for the upcoming Beatles album.  If memory serves me, there was no mention of the album being named “Sargent Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” in the letter, although clearly it is indicated in the photograph.   Due to the black and white image, I had a hard time seeing the word “Beatles” in a floral arrangement on the ground.  

Wallace put off signing the document and sending it, due not wanting to do it, but just had other concerns on his mind.  Epstein sent him at least two additional letters and I believe a telegram as well, begging him to sign off on the photo.   Wallace did, and sent it off, and that was it.  He received the payment which was very minimal - something like $5, and we didn’t receive a copy of the album.  Which was perfectly OK, because Wallace really didn’t think much about it at the time, and to be honest, he never brought it up afterwards it was released to the world. 

Now, what is interesting to me, is how much of that cover is around, and on all sorts of objects, such as key chains, posters, t-shirts, and so forth.   Of course, whenever I look at the picture, I think of my dad right away.  Also as I look around to see the black and white image of the cover, I think of the connection with all the other individuals in that photograph.  For instance, Wallace knew the artist Larry Bell, and was among the first people to publish William S. Burroughs’ excerpt of “Naked Lunch” in his journal “Semina.” His father who passed away when Wallace was very young, left him only two objects.  They were books, one was a short story collection by Oscar Wilde and the other book was by T.E. Lawrence’s (Lawrence of Arabia) “Seven Pillars of Wisdom.”   My grandmother Martha (my mom’s mother) used to work with cowboy actor and star Tom Mix at the 101 Ranch as a dancer, and Wallace met Terry Southern sometime in the early 1960s, and was a friend of Brian Jones of the Rolling Stones, who gets a mention on the Pepper cover as well.  Wallace also had a brief meeting with Bob Dylan and Lenny Bruce. 

Again, it is odd that I don’t actually own the album or the cover, except I do have the black and white image of the cover, with the additional face or two - but what’s even stranger to me is that I share a photograph with perhaps millions of people.  They have all looked at my father’s face, but it probably didn’t mean anything to them.  For me, it’s a bittersweet moment where my dad shared space with my favorite band at the time.