It’s Saturday and I find myself running late with several things to do. But I do have a song running through my head this morning, the version of the venerable The House of the Rising Sun from The Animals. If we all had soundtracks to our lives, this would be a song that would be part of mine. I played the single hundreds of times on our old console. The Animals had a different feel, despite the awful photo from this album cover, than many of the groups from the 1960’s. Eric Burdon was not the glamour boy that you would see on many of the other bands and his voice, while distinct, was hardly the best. Many of their songs had a darker edge that seemed light years away from much of the other music that filled the radiowaves at that time. There was always the sense of rebellion around their music. They were the type of group that made parents a little uncomfortable and that made them all the more attractive.
This is a pretty interesting version with pretty high quality filming with a widescreen cinematic feel, something you didn’t see in a lot of rock videos of the time.
I can’t believe I failed to mention the birthday of Elvis Presley, who would have turned 75 a few days back. It’s not that I was the hugest of Elvis fans although I was an admirer of many of his songs and performances and recognized the attraction his talent had for many. It’s just that in death he has become this cultural phenomenon, an icon that has taken on almost mythic and mystical qualities for his ardent fans.
That’s kind of what I saw when I painted this small piece a few years back. It’s called Elvis in the Wilderness which recalls Moses‘ exile to the wilderness. I may do a follow-up where Elvis leads the exodus from Eygpt.
Or maybe Elvis healing lepers. Or perhaps traveling through time, battling various injustices throughout history. Elvis in hand to hand combat with the tag team of Hitler and Mussolini. Elvis at Valley Forge.
TCB, baby. Just like the 3 letters on his huge belt buckle indicate. Taking care of business.
It could be anything, anywhere. That’s the beauty of Elvis as a mythic character, a superhero. He fits easily into any time and setting with the powers imbued on him by his fans and as a result, never really dies.
Here’s a performance that I really love if only for the iconic stance in his white suit before the huge ELVIS sign. Great visual.
I probably would never take any hints for doing anything from watching Wile E. Coyote cartoons but when I see films of people in wingsuits stepping off sheer cliffs and soaring like rockets at 150 MPH only several feet from the face of the mountain, all I can wonder is Where did they get this idea?
Were these guys sitting around, eating bowls of cereal at four in the afternoon,watching cartoons and when the image of Wile E. in his 1950’s wingsuit came on the screen, thought, “That is so cool! Let’s try that!” ?
I kind of hope so. That means there’s still a possibility for rocket-powered rollerskates out there.
The first time I saw any video of these fearless fliers, it was a guy buzzing by the Giant Jesus on Sugarloaf down in Rio. I couldn’t believe my eyes. The guy was a streak going nearly horizontal across the sky. Amazing.
Currently, the flights generally last a little over a minute until the flier opens his chute and sails easily to the ground but there are many who trying to develop suits that would enable them to glide to the ground without a chute. That would probably allow for longer flight times. Zowie!
I can’t even imagine standing at the precipice of a cliff, looking over at a couple of thousand feet of a sheer granite wall, let alone wanting to step off it with only a nylon suit and a giant set of cajones to take me to the bottom. I am enthralled by their daring and ability to overcome the primal fear that must be present when they raise that first foot before the leap. I don’t know that I’ve ever experienced anything near that burst of adrenaline that must be throbbing through them at that point and as I watch them from the safety of my chair, I am both excited by their adventurous spirit and disappointed by my own.
It make me wonder. Are these guys crazy? Or are many of us too bound to this earth by our own fears? Could I ever take that step?
Take a look at this before you decide if you’re willing to take that step. It’s from the film, The Sharp End, which documents this type of flying and other extreme rocksports such as free-climbing without ropes and which comes highly recommended by my nephew, Jeremy, who dabbles in rock climbing out West.
This is Herb and Dorothy Vogel. Herb’s retired from his job at the post office and Dorothy from a job as a librarian. They live in a small apartment in NYC. The only connection I have with them is that Dorothy is from my hometown of Elmira. That and the fascination I have for the passion that they possess for collecting art.
You see, the Vogels have compiled one of the greatest collections of modern art in the world over the past forty eight years or so.
I’ve written before that art does not have to be the sole province of the wealthy, that art is accessible to most every income level if the person really feels the desire to collect. The Vogels are positive proof of that.
They married in the early 60’s and immediately began their obsession, living on Dorothy’s income as a librarian and using Herb’s paycheck to buy art. They sought out new and what they felt were important artists, meeting them and learning about them as they acquired early, important works from the artists before they were discovered by the greater art world. Many artists became friends and gave them numerous pieces until their small apartment was bulging. Artworks under the bed, artworks on the ceiling, artworks in every nook and cranny– art consumed their home.
By this time, their collection was recognized throughout the art world as one of the largest and most comprehensive collections held by a private collector. In the 90’s, the National Gallery of Art took stewardship of their collection, allowing the Vogel’s collection to live on long after they are gone. It also allowed the Vogel’s the room, as the collection was taken by the National Gallery, to continue collecting with the same passion for the modern art they so loved. It’s said that their collection is probably worth in the hundreds of millions of dollars today but that was never the reason behind their manic collecting. It was about their love of, and connection to, the art. It proves that wealth or income is not the primary factor in collecting.
Only a passion and desire.
The story of Herb and Dorothy Vogel is a great story and was the subject of an award-winning documentary this past year called, of course, Herb and Dorothy. There is also a ton of written articles and broadcast stories out there about the Vogels, so please look them up. You may not like a lot of the work they collect but their passion is worth watching.
Yesterday was the annual appearance of the Mummer’s Parade from Philadelphia, which has been going on for a couple of hundred years there although the first “official” parade was held in 1901. It’s usually held on or around New Year’s Day and fills Broad Street in Philly with incredibly costumed bands playing out pretty ornate choreographed pieces. The amazing thing is how much effort is put in by the social clubs of that city throughout the year, practicing and making the stunning costumes, for the five minutes or so they get in the spotlight.
The idea of the Mummer’s Parade is derived from the Mummer’s Plays of medieval Europe where groups of costumed performers went door to door, acting out their simple plays which had many regional variations but normally involved a Hero being killed by some sort of evil opponent then being revived by a Doctor of sorts, usually on the day after Christmas. It has survived in many parts of the world and is still often practiced during the holiday season with revelers going from home to home, singing and accepting drinks and such from their hosts.
They show part of the parade annually on WGN , the nationally broadcast superstation out of Chicago, and we always watch at least part of it. It’s a great scene and you have to admire the dedication these groups have for the tradition of this parade. Cheri has often said that it would be a great setting for a movie from Christopher Guest and company, of Best in Show, A Mighty Wind and Waiting For Guffman fame. These movies usually have self-contained environments and casts of really interesting characters. Perfect fit for this parade. Maybe Murder at the Mummers?
Here’s an example of one of the string bands, one of the different competing divisions:
It’s Sunday morning and I’m feeling a little draggy, a little empty in the fuel tank. Don’t really feel like expounding on anything, least of all my work or myself. I’ve got a Tom Waits song in my head and it just about fits the bill for a dose of early morning Sunday after Christmas, running low on caffeine, waiting for the newspaper melancholia.
Here’s Shore Leave from Tom Waits’ album, Swordfishtrombones , which is one of my favorites from him.
Well, it’s the day before Christmas. I’ve been fairly fortunate in my life in that Christmas has normally brought nothing but pleasant memories of moments spent with family and friends. Family get-togethers and quiet moments spent with Cheri fill my Christmas memory bank. Oh, there have been moments of sadness, such as that first Christmas that fell several weeks after my mother died, but for the most part Christmas has been relatively free of the drama and tensions of everyday life.
As I said, I am pretty fortunate.
I thought for today I would simply show a video from Robert Earl Keen of his Merry Christmas From the Family, a song that always makes me smile. It sort of reminds me of some of the Christmases of my youth.
Just a few days before Christmas and I can’t get a particular Christmas song out of my head. Infectious.
It’s Must Be Santa and it’s from Bob Dylan.
Yep, Bob Dylan.
He has a new CD of Christmas songs, all done in his own way. Some are old chestnuts that work better than others but the one that shines for me is Must be Santa. It’s a fast polka with a klezmer feel complete with accordions. Lots of fun.
It’s a slow day waking up and I don’t have a lot to say. I felt like hearing a quiet song this morning and came across The Wexford Carol, an 11th century Irish carol from Yo Yo Ma and Allison Krauss. It’s a beautiful song that flows slowly and evocatively along.
I chose this older piece from several years back to accompany it. The title, Night Flow, seems to fit and I could almost hear the distant sound of the pipes and strings when I looked at it.
We’re into the Christmas season and the airwaves are filled with Christmas specials. There are the venerable classics such as A Charlie Brown Christmas, How the Grinch Stole Christmas and Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer alongside newer offerings featuring Shrek and other contemporary animated figures. Some come and go, shown only for a short time. Perhaps not timeless enough or just victims to ratings.
The specials you never see today are the variety show Christmas specials from the past featuring stars like Andy Williams, Sonny and Cher, the Osmonds and of course, Bing Crosby. They were goofy contrivances with lots of fake snow and blazing fireplaces on studio sets with terrible jokes and a lot of forced, saccharine sentimentality.
But I always liked the Bing Crosby Christmas shows. They weren’t quite as schlocky as the others and you had Bing’s beautiful voice on several holiday classics throughout. One classic moment came when a young David Bowie appeared on Bing’s last special in 1977, filmed a month before his death. The show’s producers wanted him to sing The Little Drummer Boy with Bing but Bowie was not a fan of the song and refused. With the cameras waiting, a new song, Peace on Earth, was written and woven into the other song. The finished product was done with less than an hour of rehearsal and remains a perennial holiday favorite on radio playlists everywhere.
It’s a great duet and stands up well. It’s moments like this that make me miss those old specials…
It’s Saturday and I find myself running late with several things to do. But I do have a song running through my head this morning, the version of the venerable The House of the Rising Sun from The Animals. If we all had soundtracks to our lives, this would be a song that would be part of mine. I played the single hundreds of times on our old console. The Animals had a different feel, despite the awful photo from this album cover, than many of the groups from the 1960’s. Eric Burdon was not the glamour boy that you would see on many of the other bands and his voice, while distinct, was hardly the best. Many of their songs had a darker edge that seemed light years away from much of the other music that filled the radiowaves at that time. There was always the sense of rebellion around their music. They were the type of group that made parents a little uncomfortable and that made them all the more attractive.
Redtree Times 