David Toop, for me, is the ideal artist who also writes profound and inspiring books on music culture and its history. To read any of his books is like having the greatest driver take you to unannounced routes through cultural history. "Into the Maelstrom..." is a book that addresses the nature of musicians and composers dealing with the issue of improvisation. The range of artists that are written about in this book is absolutely amazing. The beautiful thing is Toop was also in the height of the scene during the 1960s - so his views are both personal as well as a history of music being made and recorded throughout the 20th century. Technically "Into the Maelstrom" deals with improvised music made before 1970 - but reading this, I don't feel the book is contained by an era or a set of years. It's more about the spirit of making such music, and what it means to its audience/listeners as well as the musicians themselves. Also one gathers the limits/issues/and politics of making improvised music. It's not only music, but it is also how humans interact with others, and making art out of chaos.
David Toop
Toop has an encyclopedic knowledge of literature and music. What makes him a great writer is that he is able to use those tools to tell a remarkable narrative, but also smart (and entertaining) writer in that he can bounce off one idea from another. Here in astonishing detail you get the band Cream to Nuova Consonanza (Morricone is/was in this group) to Ornette Coleman and beyond. Also a focus on Fluxus music making as well as various visual artists/musicians from Europe/Japan. There are so many obscure artists mentioned, but the great thing there is also a fantastic discography in the back of the book for future investigations. Perfect book.
Oddly enough, I feel nostalgic for the Futurists. Which is as a movement in the very early 20th century. One should not have those feelings. As far as I know, these Italian poets/artists were the first militant arts movement in Europe. Perhaps the little brother to the Cubists, but with a bigger mouth. Along with F.T. Marinetti, who was actually the main figurehead in the Italian Futurist movement, there was also Umberto Boccioni, who wrote about the Futurist aesthetic, as well as making sculptures, wrote a collection of essays in 1914, "Futurist Painting Sculpture (Plastic Dynamism)" that along with Marinetti's writings, are very much the ground zero for Futurist thought and action.
While Cubism is very much about how one looks at the world, the Futurists were focused on the motion, speed, and their passion to destroy the past, so that the young artist can live and work in a dynamic (Italian) culture. To do so, they must eliminate images of the nude, feminism, portraits of flowers, and statues made of stone and bronze. They prefer the plastic material which they see as something totally new and therefore, beautiful. The interesting thing about The Futurists is that they had strong feelings about the nature of being Italian, as well as a need to shock the masses to embrace the new that's the 20th century. Of course, this leads to Fascism in their country -if not directly, then spiritually. A lot of the art movements of the time is basically about the eye confronts an object in front of them. Impressionists, Cubists and so forth were more in tuned to the nature of how one sees the landscape in front of them. Futurists literally wanted to transform that landscape into a physical presence. To pour cement over Venice was one of their aesthetic goals, which I'm sure would warm the heart of a real estate mogul.
Still, and especially when I was young, I was intrigued by the Futurists, just due to the fact that I liked Marinetti's narratives and the stylistic poetic skills he brought to the paper. They believed as men around 30, that by the time of 40, you're out of business in the art/writing world. They worshiped the idea of youth doing art and making a society that benefits the beauty of the race car and everything that science can bring to that table - including war, which is nothing more than a cleansing of the world. In a style, it reminds me of more of the militant aspects of the punk movement of the 1970s. The ground zero is approached to make a new culture. This, appeals to a man in his late teens to early 20s, but alas, as I got older, I went back to Cubist thought. On the other hand, we can't forget the shock of the new, and the need to flush out the old, to make space for a new idea. Ironically sometimes the new idea is not that hot.
"Futurist Painting Sculpture" is a fascinating book on many levels. Beautifully designed by the Getty Publications (would the Futurists appreciate being part of an institution like the Getty?) and wonderfully edited by Richard Shane Agin and Maria Elena Versari, this is an important document to have in one's collection. Also one gets a lengthy introduction by Versari (almost 50 pages long) that is informative and places the Futurists in the context of the early century. The book also includes manifestos written by various members of the Futurists as well. Boccioni, like Marinetti, wrote to shock, and of course reading it now in 2016, it doesn't have that freshness. But if one can imagine themselves back in time, and being introduced to something visually and aesthetically jarring - well, it would be very interesting.
Once you see a film by Robert Bresson, you will never forget it. It seems nothing is happening, but the truth is everything is happening. The emotions are usually muted, and the actions of the models (not actors, will get to that later) are choreographed to a certain degree. My first Bresson film was “Pickpocket, ” a story about a pickpocket artist who works his way in various train stations and public places, including buses/subways. It’s nerve wracking watching close up of hands doing their magic, by appearing in stranger’s pockets, or in a woman’s bag or purse. The film goes on a relaxing pace, but the intensity is severe. It’s a strange mixture, where scenes are slowed down, to heighten the emotion of that scene. Bresson didn’t make that many films in his long life, but each one is a remarkable work.
“Bresson on Bresson: Interviews 1943-1983, chapter-by-chapter, cover each of his 13 films. This is not something like the Hitchcock/Truffaut book, where each film is exposed by the second. No, this basically a series of interviews with Bresson and his methods in working. What’s unusual about him is that Bresson mostly used amateur actors in his productions. He didn’t like actors, at least in his films. A big concern for him is that cinematography (his term for the cinema) is a separate art from the theater - and he felt that the theater had too much of a presence in the cinema. He comments that a painting (he was a painter) on a canvas is totally different from seeing a photograph of that painting - and therefore the acting profession comes from the theater - and that is not the right procedure for the cinema. In his opinion most films are a reflection of the theater arts - and he feels that film is an art by itself. An even greater art than theater. It’s an interesting argument or position. It is also what makes his films so unique to this very day.
Bresson had a very rigid point of view with respect to art making - and the specifics of making cinema. He preferred to use the term ‘model’ instead of actor - and he didn’t want anything theatrical coming of the model’s mouth or their gestures. Also the same with the theory of not changing the lens on the movie camera, because in his thinking, people don’t change their glasses on a consistent basis. So there must be a consistency of some sort. Still, Bresson's films are overwhelming with feeling. “Bresson on Bresson” is a classic book and anyone who even has the slightest interest in being a filmmaker or even artist - must read and learn. An excellent companion piece to his book of writings “Notes on the Cinematograph. ”
et list:
0:00:38 -- Hey Bo Diddley -- Moody Blues
0:05:56 -- Go Now -- Moody Blues
0:09:30 -- Pretty One -- Freddie & the Dreamers
0:11:45 -- A Little You -- Freddie and the Dreamers
0:13:59 -- Walking the Dog -- Georgie Fame
0:16:32 -- I’ll Never Find Another You -- The Seekers
0:18:36 -- A World of Our Own -- The Seekers
0:21:16 -- Wonderful World -- Herman’s Hermits
0:23:03 -- Mrs. Brown -- Herman’s Hermits
0:25:51 -- Funny How Love Can Be -- The Ivy League
0:27:51 -- Time for You -- Sounds Incorporated
0:29:58 -- The Game of Love -- Wayne Fontana
0:32:24 -- Just a Little Bit Too Late -- Wayne Fontana
0:34:51 -- Everybody Needs Somebody -- Stones
0:35:29 -- Pain in My Heart -- Rolling Stones
0:37:32 -- Around and Around -- Rolling Stones
0:39:56 -- The Last Time -- Rolling Stones
0:42:58 -- Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah -- Cilla Black
0:45:12 -- You’re Gonna Need Somebody -- Donovan
0:49:23 -- Catch the Wind -- Donovan
0:51:49 -- Here Comes the Night -- Them
0:54:34 -- Turn on Your Love Light -- Them
1:00:48 -- Let the Good Times Roll -- Searchers
1:02:38 -- Mockingbird -- Dusty Springfield
1:05:04 -- Boom Boom -- Animals
1:09:09 -- Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood -- Animals
1:11:34 -- Talkin’ ‘Bout You” / ”Shout -- Animals
1:16:22 -- I Feel Fine -- Beatles
1:19:24 -- She’s a Woman -- Beatles
1:22:14 -- Baby’s in Black -- Beatles
1:24:32 -- Ticket to Ride -- Beatles
1:27:46 -- Long Tall Sally -- Beatles
1:29:49 -- You Really Got Me -- Kinks
1:32:02 -- Tired of Waiting for You -- Kinks
The Fab 3 plus Pete Best, who is actually great here. In fact, the whole session is pretty fantastic. Besides the drumming (reminds me of The Cramps), the vocals are superb. Full of drama and intensity. Why Decca turned them down is a total mystery. Maybe their manner in the studio? It has the Cliff Richard/Billy Fury era sound, but more primitive. And Elvis.
"Notes on Glaze: 18 Photographic Investigations" by Wayne Koestenbaum
I'm a fan of Wayne Kostenbaum's writing - especially when it is something like "Notes on Glaze." The very interesting journal and publisher, Cabinet Books, had Koestenbaum do a regular column where they send him anonymous photographs and in turn, he would comment on them, or more in detail, he uses the series of images as a foundation to reflect ideas, culture, and a bit of memoir writing as well. Not knowing their source or who took these photos, gives Koestenbaum the license to write short essays/commentaries on each image, and in a fashion, the photographs serve as an entrance way into the author's mind.
While reading this book, I felt compelled to do my own version of "Notes on Glaze," using the same images. Mine would be totally different from Koestenbaum, which strikes me as something profound. What we are getting is not information about these 'abandoned' photos, but the process and results of Koestenbaum's thinking pattern and he develops these ideas to make commentary or narratives out of them. So in a way, "Notes on Glaze" is a writer's notebook. I think anyone who writes, would benefit from this book. Not genius like, for instance Joe Barnaird's "I Remember," but still an important process and tool. So along the lines of Brainard and Raymond Queneau's "Exercise in Style", this is very much a remarkable book.
"Almost Nothing with Luc Ferrari: Interviews" by Jacqueline Caux, with Texts and Imaginary Autobiographies by Luc Ferrari (Errant Bodies Press)
For the past 12 or so months, I have been obsessing over Musique Concrete, which is basically music made out of everyday but processed electronically or through tape manipulations. For reasons that are not totally clear to me, France seems to ground zero for these composers who work in that medium. One of the greats is Luc Ferrari. He's not the first, but I think, with respect to what I have heard so far, Ferrari's work is pretty great.
Errant Bodies Press, which is a publishing house that focuses on experimental composers as well as the issues of sound/art published a magnificent book on Ferrari and his theories/thoughts on composing and the world of the avant-garde music making. Basically the book is a series of Q&A interviews with Ferrari, as well as his weird and great autobiographies segments as well as detailed descriptions of some of his compositions. It's a beautifully designed hardcover book, and anyone who has just even the slightest interest in the world of composing, surely needs to read this book.
A very interesting documentary by Kara Blake, on Delia Derbyshire, a pioneer electronic British composer/musician who made music/sounds from tape manipulation.
In this very rotten year of 2016, I found a gem of a book, called "Source: Music of the Avant Garde, 1966-1973." 'Source' was a journal that was written and edited by avant-garde composers, for other avant-garde composers, and for those who are/were interested in type of music. My guess is that the readership was small, but probably more like it - all geniuses. Larry Austin and Douglas Kahn (composer themselves) made the perfect publication. "Source" debated about the music of its time, as well as published visual and musical scores - as well as interview the main figures of that musical movement.
What we have here is John Cage, Karlheinz Stockhausen, Toshi Ichiyanagi, Morton Feldman, Robert Ashley, the recently late and great Pauline Olivers, Christian Wolff, Dick Higgins, Steve Reich and so forth. The talent doesn't stop! Each issue had a focus on one or two composers and a specific work by them, as well as dialogue / interviews with specific composers. Also manifestos of all sorts, and even a dip into politics. My understanding is that finding a copy of "Source" is nearly impossible, and I can see why. Why would anyone want to give up their copy?
This book is an important and incredible source for music that was produced in the years from 1966 thru 1973. A casual reader would for sure want to check out a composer's work, just by reading what that work is/was. Also a lot of the new music at that time was very theatrical and performance friendly. Towards the end of the book one gets a great sample of works by the Fluxus artists/performers. Highly entertaining, this book is essential for either those who study the arts that were produced during that time period, but also the importance and greatness of new music of that time.
As a kid, I loved Man Ray. Almost the same way I loved Dali. But, I outgrew them both. Not like Marcel Duchamp who has consistently been an art-god to me. What I do admire Man Ray is his brilliant photographs - especially his portraits of well-known artists and writers - as well as his more 'artful' images he took. He was also a superb filmmaker. The paintings, are at times great, but I feel his work was never consistent. His sculptures I consider to be much better than his paintings as well. Which comes to this book "Man Ray: Writings on Art," a collection of his texts that were both published and unpublished, that mostly focused on the nature of art-making, or more likely with him, his regret that he wasn't more excepted in the world of the fine arts.
Man Ray was born in Brooklyn, but moved to Paris, where he found his calling and talent at the most beautiful time in the 20th century arts. DADA and Surrealism were right outside his door, and he participated in both groups with great intensity - yet, due to the War, he had to move back to the U.S., specifically Los Angeles - which was a mixed blessing for him. Being an international artist in Los Angeles at that time, was sort of like being abandoned in the desert. There was great company of European artists at the time, but he felt a great distance from Paris - and as he had mentioned in his writings and in conversation - New York is behind Paris, and Los Angeles is behind New York. Still, he worked on Vine Street and produced a great deal of art as well as photos. Which ironically, he never cared for photography as an occupation. And seemed to have a chip-on-his-shoulder regarding Photograph as an art or not. Painting it seems was the ideal art form - but, he never was fully accepted as a painter - in the critical manner.
This book, is beautifully edited and designed. The magazine or book lay-out's of his photos is superb as well. The editing of the text, and the commentary by Jennifer Mundy is very knowledgable as well as interesting. The only weak link is Man Ray's actual writings. His work overall in that field is not that interesting. He's no Duchamp type of thinker, and mostly he is a little bit pissed off that he's not better known in America. Still, the book has much worth as a study on 20th Art, as well as a study on DADA/Surrealist practices and aesthetics. I remember reading Man Ray's memoir, which was very enjoyable (I read it years ago), but when he gets serious about 'art' he loses his sense of playfulness - which in actuality, is the big part of the Man Ray aesthetic. So, do get the book (it's a beauty) and use it as a reference, but with no fault of his own, Man Ray is not that great of a commentator on the arts. Still, there are wonderful moments in the book. Mostly in the end of this volume, when he wrote a diary of thoughts, that is charming. As well as one-sentence commentary on his famous sitters for their photo portraits. So, yeah, a real mixed bag here.
"Lost Profiles: Memoirs of Cubism, DADA, & Surrealism" by Philippe Soupault; translated by Alan Bernheimer
Philippe Soupault is one of my favorite writers. A member of the Surrealist world, with a touch of DADA, is a remarkable poet, as well as a prose artist. I also read his remarkable memoir of his years in the French Residence, called "Age of the Assassins" (which needs to be re-printed - NYRB please do so). "Lost Profiles" is a series of Soupault's remembrances of various friends, who happened to be iconic writers such as Apollinaire, René Crevel (underrated poet), Proust, Joyce, Georges Bernanos, Reverdy, Cendrars, and a critical essay on Baudelaire's poetry, plus an appreciation on the artist Henri Rousseau. A short and very sweet, but thoughtful book on the nature of these writers, and what makes them great. The fact that Soupault had a long life, and actually knew Apollinaire and Proust is mind boggling incredible. I'm almost star-struck just by reading this book. Beautifully translated by the poet Alan Bernheimer, with an introduction by Mark Polizzotti and an afterword by Ron Padgett, this is basically a must- read for those who have an interest in the European avant-garde of the early 20th century.
Once again, I have been temporary banned from Facebook for reasons that are beyond me. For those who read my blog, knows this is totally laughable and false. Yet, we will see what will happen. To quote Facebook below:
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"The Thief of Talent" by Pierre Reverdy & Translated by Ian Seed (Wakefield Press) 978-1-939663-19-1
When I first heard about this book "The Thief of Talent" by Pierre Reverdy, I was expecting an experimental novel. It's not. It's a book length prose poem that is incredibly moving and beautiful. The book came out in France in 1917, and was pretty much ignored till at least 1967. In 2016, Wakefield Press has done the first english translation by Ian Seed. It's a remarkable book about an artist/poet leaving their scene. A long goodbye note of sorts, but also a very poetic look of a world that passes him by - which happens to be Paris, 1917.
Reverdy, is without a doubt, one of the great poetic voices of the 20th century. This early work by him, exposes a certain amount of doubt in working in a world that is often hostile, or at the very least, suspicious of such activity. The great fellow poet/art critic Max Jacob encouraged Reverdy to write this book, but at the same time, one gather by this text that their relationship had sharp turns to the left and right, when it wanted to go straight ahead. According to Seed's introduction, the big turning point for Reverdy in writing this book was when Jacob hid his writings from Reverdy by closing a chest door in front of him. This very act, caused a certain amount of stress for Reverdy, even though it was common practice for artists and writers of that time, to hide their work from fellow artists, due to the fear of being plagiarized.
Maybe because it is due that Dylan just won the Nobel Prize for literature, but I couldn't help thinking about his work, while reading this book. Dylan is known for 'borrowing' text for his songs/writings, and one wonder if he knew Reverdy's work. I suspect he does. This, almost reads like a Dylan book written in the future. Like Dylan, Reverdy is very cinematic with his writing. One gets clear visuals while reading the text. He knows how to paint a picture in one's head. For me, I can't think of a 'new' book that is so important. The loss of identity or to question such a thing, is very much part of 20th century literature. And I have to admit it is very much part of my work as well. "The Thief of Talent" is for all those who create something, and the need to say au revoir.
"Eye of the Sixties: Richard Bellamy and the Transformation of Modern Art" by Judith E. Stein (FSG)
Superb biography on a New York City art dealer and visionary Richard Bellamy. There are people I should know about, and for some odd reason, and compared to the other huge dealers at the time, I never heard of Bellamy. Which is to be frank, quite idiotic of me. He brought the world, or to be more specific Manhattan, the world of Claes Oldenburg, Donald Judd, Dan Flavin, James Rosenquist and many others. The beauty of Bellamy is that he was mostly fascinated with art and the artists - and could care less about the financial aspect of that world, or what it could bring to someone's pocket or piggy bank. His devotion (as a dealer) and friendship with Mark di Suvreo as well as Alfred Leslie is a classic relationship between dealer and artist. It seems he had an eye on the bigger picture, and author Judith E. Stein captures that essence of Bellamy. Throughout the narrative we get Warhol, Yoko Ono, Yayoi Kusama, Jasper Johns, and others. If Bellamy didn't take on these artists for his "Green" gallery, he worked hard on their behalf to find them representation.
And of course, the other reason why I like this book is the character of Bellamy. Usually drunk, often depressed, hysterical, insane dresser, and quite eccentric behavior. His relationship with Robert (and kind of Ethel) Scull, the major collectors of art in Manhattan, is equally fascinating. Robert was the secret backer to Bellamy's Green gallery, and it's interesting in the up's and down's of that gallery and Bellamy's mental state - they remained friends. It seems Bellamy didn't base his personal relationships on money alone - and this is what gives his character a great heart. Also, he was a very handsome man, who in photos reminds me of Jarvis Cocker a bit. Tall, nice hair, half-Chinese, and great taste in glass frames - he must have been a striking figure when he walked in a room. This was such an enjoyable read. It's nice to spend time with a fascinating character in a very active era of the visual arts in New York City.
Lately, I have been listening to a lot of classical/electronic/musique concrete music from the 1950s & 1960s. It puts me in a good headspace, with respect how the world is behaving these days. Stockhausen is a composer that I know very little of his music, but his name of course. For the next year or so, I plan to go into the rabbit hole that is Stockhausen's world.
"The Witkiewicz Reader" Edited by Daniel Gerould (Northwestern University Press)
There is the joy of going to a used bookstore, for instance, Alias East, on Glendale Blvd. and picking up a totally unknown author and his book. Stanisław Ignacy Witkiewiez, or better known in his home country of Poland, as Witkacy. "The Witkiewicz Reader" is an anthology of his various writings from 1914 to the date of his death (by suicide) in 1939. He lived through tough times in his country or part of that world, and his writings reflect, not realistically, but at least spiritually or aesthetically, the period that he lived in. Which, looking back, was not so good.
He was not only a writer, but also painter, commercial portrait painter, philosopher, playwright, photographer and a huge experimenter in narcotics. In that sense of structure he sort of resembles Artaud, but without the madness, but clearly with the emotional attachment to his life and the things that went wrong in that life as well. Personally I don't find his fiction that interesting, but on the other hand, his essay on drugs is very interesting, as well as his letters to a friend. He is probably one of the first 'aesthetic' writer to focus on the effects of peyote and cocaine. Almost scientifically minded, but.... well, he's an artist, so that aspect totally rears its head in. In that specific sense, he resembles William S. Burroughs - in fact, if he lived just a tad longer, I think he would be a Beat.
Reading a best of, which is basically selections of that author's writings, one gets a pretty good snapshot of one's work. I'm curious to actually read an entire novel by him. If that's possible, and in English. Daniel Gerald, did a good job in choosing the material and he also places his life in chronicle time - so it's very much of a biography as well.
Happy Birthday Elliott Gould
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Happy Birthday to one of the all-time greats and one of the coolest of the
cool Elliott Gould. From my 2019 New Beverly interview with Elliott Gould
about ...