We’re into the heat here and in many areas across the nation with near record temps in Alexandria yesterday and the fires in Colorado still raging. The dog days of summer. I thought I’d have a musical break and in looking for something appropriate came across Fire from The Crazy World of Arthur Brown from back in 1968. We’ve moved way past this in terms of outlandishness in the forty-plus years since this performance on Britain’s Top of the Pops but I have to chuckle at the outrage it must have provoked at the time. I can only imagine the middle-aged British parents who had endured World War II and the German Blitzkrieg upon seeing this must have felt that the world was in a death spiral and that Arthur Brown was indeed the god of hellfire. Of course, he was just a guy trying to draw some attention and sell some records, which he did.
The painting shown above is one of my personal favorites called Elvis in the Wilderness. It was part of my Outlaws series from several years back. I’ve shown it here before but I thought it fit the spirit of this song and the background has the feel of impending fire. Here’s Arthur Brown. Hopefully, his fire will soon diminish and the fires in Colorado will cease.
Jack White has a recent album out, Blunderbuss, on which he puts his own stamp on the Little Willie John classic I’m Shakin‘. My own first taste of this song was Dave Alvin and the Blasters‘ version back in 1981 which was great version pretty much in line with the original and has always served as the one which comes most quickly to mind. Dave Alvin has long been a favorite of mine but has always flown well under the radar of most folks. unfortunately. But I do like this version from Jack White. I came across a YouTube video of the song that has set footage of the dance line from a vintage episode of Soul Train to the song and it fits pretty well. Plus it’s great to have a chuckle at some of the styles from that time, which looks to be the mid to late 70’s, judging by the number of big bell bottoms.
Anyway, here it is to give your Sunday a shakin’ start…
I was going to write a bit this morning about this painting, Moonrise Kingdom, which is part of my show currently hanging at the Principle Gallery. But as I sat here looking at the image my mind went kind of blank and all I could think of was a song from Chuck Berry called Havana Moon. I’m not sure what this song has to do with this painting except that there is a moon in each but that song just won’t shake loose.
It’s actually a pretty good song for 6 in the morning, a bit different than standard Chuck Berry rockers. Spare and atmospheric. Rhythmic. Even though I love all of Berry’s old classics, this song remains one of my favorites from his songbook. And it sounds good when I look at this painting. Win win.
A new painting that is headed for my upcoming show , A Place to Stand, at the Principle Gallery , opening June 8. This is a 12″ by 36″ canvas that carries the title Almost Blue, a title taken from the great Elvis Costello song.
I often talk about the color blue as being addictive, about how difficult it is at times to pull myself away the color when I am working with it. It is the yin to the yang of the reds and yellows I often work with in my paintings. The reds and yellows are often bold in statement, claiming a small piece of the world as their own and making the case that they have meaning in this world. The blues, however, don’t make such brash statements. They create a different atmosphere, one that is quietly questioning why they are here in this world. Blue is a calm sense of wonder and reflection, almost melancholy at times.
The Red Tree is here but its normally bold statement of self is enveloped in the blueness of the sky and landscape surrounding it, making it feel less like a statement than a question. There is an uncertainty as to the whys and whats of its existence and the red of the tree seem almost ready to turn to blue. It is almost blue.
I was going to have a video of either Elvis Costello or his wife, Diana Krall, doing the song here. Both are fabulous. But I came across this video of the late jazz great Chet Bakerdoing the song in a performance taken from the film Let’s Get Lost, a documentary about his life made in 1988 not long before his death. If you don’t know much about Chet Baker, you should really check out his bio. It is the stuff of classic tragedies and will surely someday be the subject of a great film. This version of the song is a great expression of his existence and in the photos shown throughout the video you can see the toll that life, violence and drug abuse took on Baker over the years.
I wrote the other day about the rhythm I’m looking for when I’m in the studio, that groove where the painting is more instinctual than intellectual. Everything flowing fast and easy with little thought, each brushload of paint inspiring the next and on and on. All intuition and reaction with hardly a thought given to subject or meaning. It’s a great feeling, one that makes me feel as thought I am somehow connected to some sort of better self within, one that can only be reached by letting go of conscious thought.
A rare and delicate thing.
Delicate in the sense that I find myself at points coming out of this groove to examine what I’ve done and I lapse into conventional thought. At these times I look at the work spread around the studio, in various stages of their journey to completion. I forget for the moment how the work came about , about the fact that the work is not about subject or the scene but about capturing emotion and feeling. All I see is repetition of form, red trees and red roofs set on mounds and plains.
And for that moment, I panic just a bit. The delicate thing seems almost crushed in that instant.
But then I focus on a painting and the fragility of how it came about and what it really is doesn’t seem all that delicate after all. Though there is often repetition of forms, I can see by looking at this individual painting that these elements are only part of the whole, that, while they often serve as the central focus of the piece, their importance comes from how they play off the other less obvious elements of the painting to create the real feel of it. People are not moved by the tree but by the sense of feeling that the tree evokes within the painting.
It’s not subject but the emotion captured that makes each piece unique.
And with that realization in hand, I feel free once again to go back into the rhythm, that rare and delicate thing.
The painting above is a new one that fits perfectly with this post. It is a 10″ by 16″ painting on paper that I call Beeswing, after a line from a Richard Thompson song of the same name that has as its chorus the line, ” she was a rare thing, fine as a bee’s wing…” Thereis adelicacy in this piece, a fineness of form that makes the moment of it seem forever fragile. When I look at it all I can think of are those incredibly rare moments of absolute happiness, when the outer world is completely forgotten and there is a clarity of joy in myself. A fleeting feeling, rare and delicate, fine as a bee’s wing.
There is an internet broadcast that started in 2007 and is ongoing called the Black Cab Sessions. It features a musical guest performing one song as they ride through the streets of London in the well known black London hackney. It has had a tremendous variety of artists over the year, from the very well known to not-yet-quite-there, all performing in the compact confines of the cab’s back seat. Grand pianos and harps don’t play a big part in these performances.
Here’s one of my favorites, Richard Thompson, perfroming in the Black Cab…
Most people immediately think of Roberta Flack when they think of the song The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face, and for good reason. Her 1972 version was truly beautiful and deserved every bit of the acclaim it earned. But the song didn’t originate with her and has had many versions through the years, including one of my favorites from Johnny Cash, which you can see below.
The song’s history began in 1957. Iy was written by Ewan MacColl, a British folk singer who is a very interesting character in his own right. He was a married man who fell in love with the much younger Peggy Seeger, the half-sister of folk icon Pete Seeger. He later married Seeger. MacColl wrote the song about her and for her to perform. She needed a song for a play she was appearing in here in the USA so MacColl wrote the song and taught it to her via the telephone as he was barred from entering the States because of his Communist ties. As I said, he was an interesting character. Her original version is lovely with different phrasing than the better known Flack version. I’ve also included a similarly performed and charming version from Peter, Paul and Mary.
Cash’s version is much more ponderous. It is from his American series near the end of his life. His voice was weaker and even rawer than in his younger days but Cash used it in an incredibly expressive way, giving the song the feeling of a dirge as he looked back from a point near the end of his and his wife’s life, to an earlier time in his life and the fresh discovery of love. It is both beautiful and sad.
A young friend of mine posted this video online yesterday. It’s a song that I haven’t heard in many years, Down in Mexicofrom The Coasters in 1956. This was their first single and was a mild hit although ost people remember The Coasters for the string of hits that followed, all written , like Down in Mexico, by the legendary songwriting team of Lieber and Stoller. Songs like Young Blood, Yakety Yak, Charlie Brown, Along Came Jones and Poison Ivy. A virtual soundtrack for the young ears of the time and for a generation or so beyond.
This made me think of my nephew and his wife who have been travelling in Mexico for last couple of months, climbing volcanos and surfing before heading further south. I thought this would be a nice jolt to waken them and everyone else on a Sunday morning. Enjoy!
I mentioned Woody Guthrie in yesterday’s post and it reminded me of a musical release that is coming out in the next month. It is the release of Mermaid Avenue: The Complete Sessionsfrom Billy Bragg and Wilco, which incorporates the remastered first two volumes from the original 1998 release with a new volume of 17 songs.
These sessions were the result of the Guthrie family asking singer/activist Billy Bragg along with Wilco to have a go at interpreting some of the many songs left after his death in 1967. Guthrie didn’t read music so his unrecorded songs’ melodies were stored only in his memory, leaving only the lyrics. But the lyrics were terrific and provided Bragg and Wilco plenty of inspiration to produce a memorable set of music. I have used several songs here over the years and often find myself switching on Mermaid Avenue (named after the street in Brooklyn where Guthrie lived at the time of his death) in the studio to work by.
Here’s one of my favorites, Way Over Yonder in the Minor Key.
There’s a wonderful site to which I subscribe , PhotoBotos.com, which blogs a remarkable photo each day. From all parts of the world, most are spectacular shots and I always look forward to seeing what each new day’s offering will be. Today’s was not a disappointment. Called Soulside Journey, it is a shot of epic feel taken in the Cerce Valley of the French Alps by photographer Alexandre Deschaumes. Just an amazing sight.
It made me want to see more of Deschaumes’ work and to learn a bit more about him. Doing just a bit of research, I discover that he is a self-taught photographer who has been gaining acclaim in recent years for his stunning and emotionally charged shots of natural landscapes. There is a nice online interview on the site Photography Office that has Mr. Deschaumes stating: I find my inspiration in my hope and fears, through a simple mix of elegant curves , line and color harmony.
I could very much sum up my own artistic philosophy in this simple sentence. It makes me empathize very much with Mr. Deschaumes artistic vision and journey. Going to his own site , which is filled with a vast number of his imagery, it’s easy to find many that speak to some of those same deep inner emotions that I seek in my own work. Just plain good stuff.
I also found the lovely high-def film shown below from filmmaker Mathieu Le Lay that shows Deschaumes at work in the wild, trotting among some beautifully shot settings. Gorgeous color. Worth a look on a Sunday morning…
We’re into the heat here and in many areas across the nation with near record temps in Alexandria yesterday and the fires in Colorado still raging. The dog days of summer. I thought I’d have a musical break and in looking for something appropriate came across Fire from The Crazy World of Arthur Brown from back in 1968. We’ve moved way past this in terms of outlandishness in the forty-plus years since this performance on Britain’s Top of the Pops but I have to chuckle at the outrage it must have provoked at the time. I can only imagine the middle-aged British parents who had endured World War II and the German Blitzkrieg upon seeing this must have felt that the world was in a death spiral and that Arthur Brown was indeed the god of hellfire. Of course, he was just a guy trying to draw some attention and sell some records, which he did.
Redtree Times 