Sherman Alexie

A little movie made illustrating one of Alexie's short stories. Even though I much prefer music and art to the written word, the single greatest artistic experience I ever had was hearing Alexie speak at the Union Square Barnes and Noble a few years ago. He read What You Pawn I Will Redeem, a story brimming with affection for it's woefully unlucky protagonist. As with all of the best of his writing, Alexie's words reveal the inherent divinity in these characters to whom we rarely give a second look, but in this reading Alexie did something I've never seen anyone else do: he not only made the audience experience the magical transformation of the main character, but somehow, at the same moment, we all realized that magic was present, in the room with us, and just as those feelings became concrete, the story ended and the whole audience was suspended in holy, silent, rapture followed by the most thunderous applause I've ever heard in my life. That night, that audience didn't just experience art, we were art.

Click here to see part 2.

Farewell to Stromness

Years ago, I fell in love with the music of English composer Peter Maxwell Davies. Like his friend Hans Werner Henze, Davies never forgot that music could touch the mind, soul and heart of the willing listener. Here's a rare gem of Max's: Farewell to Stromness, arranged for guitar by Timothy Walker. Like so many pieces of his compatriot Benjamin Britten, the melody of this work seems unnecessarily simple and maybe even trite, but also like Britten, the work takes quietly takes root in one's imagination long after the first hearing, becoming a constant reminder of how magical the musical experience can be. What I love about this piece is that it's so successful in creating a sense of longing and, dare it say it, homesickness for Stromness, a place most of us have never visited or will ever visit. For all of you social activist types, Davies wrote this work to protest the potential uranium mining in the Orkney islands. A perfect jewel it is, and sorely deserving of more performances.

Webern's Legacy

A friend of mine recently dashed off a quick email asking for my thoughts on Austrian composer Anton Webern. I told him I need to a few days to collect my thoughts and I would get back to him as soon as possible.

It's at least a month later, and I've been mulling over what to say. It's not that I've been trying to come up with something profound to say about the man's work. In fact, my thoughts on Webern are pretty much the same ones I've held since my early teens, but I've always hesitated in expressing my views because I never saw similar assertions in existing commentary. Funny how age makes you care less and less about how fashionable your thoughts and feelings might be, isn't it?

Anyway, here it is: Webern's legacy has little to do with his serial structure, pointillistic textures or his dramatic use of silence. Webern simply invested the whole of his creative life in, if you'll allow me to borrow from the world of literary criticism, the lyric rather than the epic.

Perhaps he felt Mahler could not be outdone in the building of epic structures, and perhaps it is because the constituent parts of such large structures became in themselves almost complete, that Webern felt that they could exist on their own, untethered from a supporting dramatic edifice to hold the up. If the 19th century was concerned with the whole human body, the discovery of the nucleus of a cell was enough to capture imagination for the totality of his compositional output. Yes, there were miniatures by composers of preceding generations, but these rarely let go of the epic thrust which informs much of Western music, in fact, it may be the single most defining characteristic of that genre, and why composers such as Cage, Feldman and Takemitsu were so taken with his work. Interestingly, Webern's rediscovery in Europe after the war was followed by a generation of composers who sought to create works of an epic nature from Webern's example. I suppose traditions die very, very hard. Thank God for amnesia. =)

City Lights?

Opening my email this morning, I found the above picture sent along with a discussion about the new lights on the CN back in Toronto. It may be a sign of age, but these colo(u)red lights look tacky to me, and while the night sky may be a reflection of the city's after-hours activities, it's no real replacement for the energy, drive and passion of the people living there. And perhaps showing my age again, I don't know why these public works have to be modeled on the Wal-Mart school of design. At least it should be cool, right? Oh Toronto, will you ever win?

Red Hot Chili Peppers - By The Way

Years ago, I remember watching City Limits and seeing True Men Don't Kill Coyotes and thinking, "Who the Hell are these dudes?" But as the years passes, like most folks of my age (35+) the Peppers became a band to watch. Mixing funk and guitar rock was still a novel thing back then, and how could you hate them for making Stevie Wonder's Higher Ground a hit again.

Years later I remember seeing a commercial in Toronto that had a black screen accompanied by a rock song, slowly fading up. I remember jumping up on the couch and thinking, "This is amazing! Who the Hell are these guys!?" And the words flashed across the screen "Red Hot Chili Peppers New Album" and then a date. For some unknown reason, I never got the CD or knew the name of the track. And finally after some very coincidental events, I'm now here watching this video, and realizing that the Chili Peppers were one of the greatest bands of their generation, and I'm seriously bummed I wasn't a bigger fan back then.

The chorus captures some of the trepidation and excitement of meeting your friends at a rock concert, before cellphones and tv reviews let you know exactly how the night was going to unfold. This was all a secret business, especially if the band wasn't mainstream. No one knew the band, no one knew the songs. Only you and your friends were cool enough to find the truth in such out of the way places. The video can be summed up in 4 words: Flea to the RESCUE!!

Google Maps Street View

Just a quick post to tout the latest super cool offering by google maps -- Street View! Every inch of Manhattan seems to be captured in 360 degree photographs. I saw the front entrance to my building in quasi-fuzzy detail, but it sure will help finding restaurants in the twisty west village. Hazza for Google!

Jean Paul Goude

For some unknown reason, I had to see Grace Jones. Not personally of course, but it's probably part of a general Trevor Horn thing I'm going through these days. Horn's ZTT records and Art of Noise recording project confirm my belief that culture and high art are not beyond the reach of the public, and inform much of what we see and hear every day. But that's probably left for another post!

What I did discover is the work of Jean Paul Goude, a French photographer who applied his talents to video, live performance and media campaigns.

Above is a look at some of his work included on a DVD that accompanied a compendium of some of his life's work, So Far, So Goude. You'll notice that Grace figures into most of the pieces, and Goude later became Grace's partner.

What amazes me about their work is that they deal with images of race, or more specifically white images of black stereotypes, that is at once garish and thrilling. And all of it looks stunning. Even if you're weren't a Grace Jones fan, you'll remember Goude's work for Channel at the end of the clip. Vanessa Paradis whistling on a bird swing: who dreams of such things? Apparently, Goude.