Record Club is an initiative of Beck, intended as “an informal meeting of various musicians to record an album in a day. The album chosen to be reinterpreted is used as a framework. Nothing is rehearsed or arranged ahead of time. A track is put up here once a week. The songs are rough renditions, often first takes that document what happened over the course of a day as opposed to a polished rendering. There is no intention to ‘add to’ the original work or attempt to recreate the power of the original recording. Only to play music and document what happens.”
Some true beauties:
Jamie Lidell covers Skip Spence’s Cripple Creek. As overwhelming as always, this rare Jamie species.
This is Skip Spence:
Alexander Lee “Skip” Spence (1946 – 1999) was a musician and singer-songwriter best known for his work with Jefferson Airplane, Moby Grape and as a solo artist. He was born in Canada, and his family relocated to San Jose, California in the late 1950s. His career was plagued by drug addictions coupled with mental health problems, and is described by a biographer as man who “neither died young nor had a chance to find his way out.” During his tenure in the public eye, he had a profound impact on the outsider music and psych-folk genres.
One with hummingbird Feist, covering ‘Weighted Down’ of Skip Spence:
O and this one is so tribalistic! (with Jeff Tweedy junior on the drum computer):
One with Jeff Tweedy (Wilco) in full regalia, covering Skip Spence’s Dixie Peach Promenade (with jr on the real drums this time):
Ik hamster mooie woorden en zinnen. Twee recente literaire oases waren het verslavende, in één dreun geschreven ‘A million little pieces’ van James Frey, over hoe hij ‘the fury’ met alcohol, cocaïne, crack, pillen, paddo’s, PCP en lijm te lijf gaat en daarvan afkickte in de prestigieuze ontwenningskliniek Hazelden in Minnesota (toen ik dit las, viel ik achterover. De wereld op z’n kop!) en (ademhaal) het min of meer okeëe ‘Groener gras’ van Annelies Verbeke, een boek dat zich laat lezen als een ode aan de strijd tussen winnen en verliezen (en als je zelf niet kan winnen, kan je altijd nog anderen laten verliezen). Hieronder een graai uit Verbekes pretpot. Lekker uit de context gerukt, maar net daarom des te mooier.
Etienne transformeerde elke dag meer in wat de wereld in hem zag of het werd de wereld elke dag duidelijker waarin Etienne was getransformeerd: de som van pech en passiviteit.
Hij geloofde niet in geesten en postume conversaties. Hij geloofde enkel in gemis.
Wie altijd zoekend voorwaarts streeft, mag op verlossing hopen – Goethe (en het ziet er inderdaad naar uit dat die verlossing met betrekking tot de bestrijding van de huisstofmijt nabij is)
Zijn geest bezat de onthutsende kwaliteit zich te zuiveren van alle gebeurtenissen en uitspraken die voor haar van grote betekenis waren. Van alles wat zij in dagdromen op de muren van belangrijke gebouwen bleef kalligraferen. Zijn zin ‘Niemand heeft ooit zo veel voor mij betekend’ beschreef de hele rechtervleugel van de Santa Maria Maggiore. ‘Waarom hebben wij elkaar niet eerder ontmoet?’ stond over de zeezijde van het operagebouw in Sydney. ‘s Nachts werden de woorden ‘Zo’n lekker lijf’ op de Eiffeltoren verlicht. Aan ‘Wil je met me trouwen?’ – subtiel verwerkt onder de hoofdkoepel van de Taj Mahal – had ze tussen haakjes een eigen bedenking toegevoegd: (enigszins lachend, toch gemeend)
Ze probeerde een ontsnappende traan op te zuigen met haar oogbol. Het lukte niet.
Als Andy Vrijmoedt dacht aan hoeveel mensen hem om zijn geluk haatten, werd hij weleens neerslachtig. Geen allesoverheersende duisternis kwelde hem dan, dat lag niet in zijn aard. Het was eerder een onbestemde weemoed die bezit van hem nam en die hem soms tijdelijk paralyseerde. Op die zeldzame momenten droeg hij een badmuts. Dat had hij als kind al gedaan wanneer zijn gedachten te hardnekkig tegen de binnenkant van zijn hoofd drukten. (…) Hij viel anderen niet graag lastig met wat hem tijdelijk ontstemde. De badmuts die zijn hoofd omklemde, was net bedoeld om wat fout zat binnen te houden. Om tegendruk te bieden van buitenaf. Tot de weemoedige golf na een uurtje oploste als gelatine in warm water. Dan kon de badmuts weer af en werd de wereld even mooi als tevoren.
Toch kon ze nu pas met oogverblindende helderheid onderscheiden hoeveel er tot stilstand was gekomen. Hoeveel langzaam verlies bruusk was onthuld.
Het verpletterende geluk stalde voor hem uit wat hij hoe dan ook zou verliezen.
Hij gaat bij het raam staan en kriebelt de zon tevoorschijn: ‘Kom, kom, kom.’ De zon struikelt van achter een wolk vandaan. Toeval?
Omdat ze precies tegelijk op het beige lederen bankstel plaatsnemen en simultaan maar in spiegelbeeld hun ene been over het andere draperen, nestelt het verleden zich met gemak tussen hen in.
Uit ‘Groener gras’ – Annelies Verbeke
This week I saw what a tolerant mother, loads of time and an overexpressive Genesis-gene can do with a person. I went to see ‘Monster road‘ at the independent Off-screen festival in Brussels. This documentary tells the story of the legendary self-thought animator Bruce Bickford and his demented father. When he was young, Bickford started making stop motion animation films with plasticine, shaping and re-shaping thousands of little figurines frame by frame. He put his whole soul into animation instead of getting a proper ‘job’, to the dissatisfaction of his perfectionist boeing-engineer father but supported by his caring mother. Forty years later Bickford hasn’t stopped digging the plasticine, molding and morphing as if life depends on it (he really doesn’t understand why Bill Gates doesn’t spend his whole fortune on animation films).
What Bickford does is impressive. He works with a meticulousness that defies an ant’s work, creating a constantly changing universe with things continuously morphing into each other. Everything is organic, things change wherever your eyes can watch. The stream of information that gets to the spectator is like dreaming in fast forward. Movement is Bickford’s personal God. And violence, not to forget. Bickford abuses toy soldiers, giants and blond women who keep on hacking bashing slashing away each others plasticine fragile bodies. Bickford doesn’t know why he loves violence, but he thinks people like to watch it merely because of the relief that seeing violence on tv or in films simply means you’re not involved in it at the time of watching. Funny insight.
Considering his personal affection with destruction, I think the plasticine itself asks for creating and destroying. Plasticine is an excellent tool for shaping and re-shaping, and its creation/destruction property is even more reinforced by the nature of stop motion animation (to get motion, you need to play God and keep on changing changing*). It’s the tool, the medium which makes Bickford artistically violent.
After the documentary, Bruce Bickford himself answered some questions as if life didn’t depend on it at all (he’s getting a bit older). He talked about his work with Frank Zappa in the 70’s and said they didn’t come along that well, and he slowly explained his working process. He also complained about the lack of means to make proper animation movies (he still works at home), which was really really sad and difficult to believe when you see his work.
Then some die-hard Bickford animation work was screened. Impressive, but after a while I came to understand more why Bruce is still a needy man, living a poor life rich in plasticine. I got a Bickford overdose and suddenly the thrill was gone. All those hacking bashing slamming plasticine bastards morphing into faces faces faces time after time, suddenly seemed more of a therapeutic way of spending life rather than adding some meaning to the world. Of course, it’s still breathtaking and technically very inventive what Bickford does, and he surely is the master of plasticine stop motion, but I suddenly needed more (non-imagery, that is). So kids, please take his beautiful inheritance and inject some witty content into his work to make the man richer than ever.
* Blame this doubling tripling quadrupling of words on A million little pieces by James Frey, currently in my bag.
Fuck* they are good. Lip-sync’n but good.
The Seeds – Pushin’ too hard (Try to understand!)
* “Irrespective of its origins or etymology, Fuck is as profane and
offensive today as it was a century ago and its meaning has not
changed much although it has certainly picked up speed. Fuck always
seemed to suggest somewhat more than just intercourse or copulation
and somehow put a more animal or primal spin on the idea of coitus.
The power and magic of this mere four letter word is best exemplified
by the fact that even to this day it remains forbidden on MTV, the
fortress of everything transient, transgressive and fashionable. I
have long maintained that if you want to destroy something make it
into a fashion and that is precisely the function of MTV (or “EMPTY V”
as I prefer to call it) Every subversive concept or revolutionary idea
from Punk to Ché Guevara gets digested and destroyed into a three week
make over on MTV only to be then re-issued as a perfume or t-shirt.
And yet you still cannot say Fuck !
We call it a “swear” word or a “curse” word and perhaps therein lies
the key to its secret identity. We swear an oath or swear on the Bible
in order “to make a solemn declaration, invoking a deity or a sacred
person or thing, in confirmation of and witness to the honesty or
truth of such a declaration.” Similarly a curse is also ” a prayer or
an invocation for harm or injury to come upon one” or “an
ecclesiastical censure or anathema.”
(…)
South African artist Kendell Geers has an interesting vision, not only on the notion of ‘fuck’. I had the pleasure to talk with him during a conversation with lovely Hannelore Knuts for her UltraMegaLore exhibition, soon to be shown in the Modemuseum of Hasselt. A reflection I wrote on this forthright talk about ‘the art of being a muse’, will appear in the accompanying UltraMegaLore catalogue. Threegirls will keep you posted!
And I guess you there wouldn’t mind ending with a sassy thing dancing for the health of your seeds.
(thank you K for tipping me)
Oh and yes before we forget, Threegirls wants to wish you all a delightful new year. We hope 2010 will bring you a lot of insights, sunshine breezes and much more sumptuous breakfasts than last year.
Today I stumbled upon this intriguing painting ‘American Gothic’ by Grant Wood (1891-1942), depicting the rural American Midwest (some say it is a parody, some say it is a homage).
It made me jollily singing the whole Ginger Ale catalogue again, since one of their albums seems to be inspired on Wood’s work.
Ginger Ale is a fantastic Parisian band who pulled over some time ago, which is most deplorable. Listen to them while biking on a tandem with your love on a very bright day.
As a tribute, Gini made a drawing a few years ago.
Suzy (fan) and Gini Rose (drawing)
In 2003 wint Roman Polanski een Oscar voor ‘The Pianist’. Tot ieders verbazing verschijnt de Poolse regisseur niet op het podium, en plots herinnert Hollywood zich weer waarom. Polanksi is wanted in de VS. Niet alleen om zijn films, maar – vooral – om een verkrachtingszaak die al dertig jaar lang tegen hem loopt.
Roman Polanski’s leven leest als een van zijn eigen scripts, vaak brutale en tragische verhalen. Als jongen van zes ontvlucht hij het joodse getto van Krakow, terwijl zijn moeder sterft in de gaskamers. In 1969 vermoorden volgelingen van Charles Manson zijn hoogzwangere vrouw Sharon Tate op beestachtige wijze. Eind jaren zeventig staat de man zelf terecht. Tijdens een fotoshoot voor Vogue voert hij een dertienjarig meisje sloten champagne – aangelengd met een flinke dosis valium – en dwingt haar tot seks. Polanski bekent de feiten en krijgt in ruil een vrij milde straf, 90 dagen psychiatrisch onderzoek. Maar omdat hij vreest dat de mediageile rechter op zijn stappen wil terugkeren, ontvlucht hij de VS halverwege zijn internering.
Sindsdien woont de regisseur van klassiekers als Chinatown, Rosemary’s baby en The Tenant, in Parijs. De VS en de UK mijdt hij als de pest, uit angst voor represailles. Maar Zwitserland, dat is nog eens een aardig land ontdekt Polanski, en hij koopt er een buitenverblijf waar hij jarenlang naartoe trekt. In de Alpen, daar word je ten minste nog met rust gelaten.
Niet dus. Op 26 september 2009 verpest de Zwitserse politie de jarenlange Polanski quo. De bekendste banneling ter wereld is op weg naar het filmfestival van Zürich om er een lifetime achievement award in ontvangst te nemen (nota bene). Maar nog voor Polanski iets van zijn award gezien heeft, wordt hij in de boeien geslagen. Op verzoek van de VS, zo blijkt. Het Openbaar Ministerie in Los Angeles heropende een paar maanden eerder de zaak tegen Polanski. Op wiens verzoek het dat deed – Zwitserland zelf, de Amerikaanse autoriteiten – blijft onduidelijk.
Er zit dus een dikke haar in de boter. Los van de vraag of het netjes is om piepjonge meisjes te bepotelen – ook al vraag je je af hoe zo’n onschuldige deerne op een fotoshoot in het sodom van Hollywood belandt – dringt deze vraag zich op: Waarom wordt Polanski nu pas gearresteerd?
Volgens de VS staat Polanski al jarenlang op de ‘wanted’ lijst van Interpol, en wisten ze nu pas waar hij precies was. Flauwekul. Als je Saddam Hoessein in een duister hol kan verrassen, kan je ook Roman Polanski opsporen in zijn Parijse luxeflat of Gstaadse residentie. Zwitserland wordt verweten dat het opeens verdacht enthousiast meewerkt met de VS. De Zwitserse autoriteiten merkten dat Polanski naar hun land kwam, tipten de Amerikanen, die op hun beurt het Openbaar Ministerie in Los Angeles waarschuwden, waar dan snel een aanhoudingsbevel in elkaar geflanst werd. Best louche. Recente strubbelingen tussen het Alpenland en de VS over zwart Amerikaans geld op Zwitserse banken zouden er iets mee te maken hebben.
Wat moeten wij daarvan denken? Eén. Een filmregisseur arresteren op een heilige plaats als een filmfestival, dat doe je niet. Twee. De zaak weer oprakelen 32 jaar na de feiten is geen rechtspraak meer, maar wraakzucht. Iets voor een volgende Polanski thriller, maar niet iets voor de werkelijkheid van een man van 76 jaar. Drie. Het slachtoffer Samantha Geimer vraagt al sinds 1997 met nadruk om de zaak te laten rusten, vooral omdat zij en haar familie al die media aandacht kotsbeu zijn. Zij wordt bij elke telefoon van een hongerige journalist opnieuw verkracht. Geimer tekende zelfs samen met Polanski’s advocaat protest aan tegen de rechtsgang, die alle kenmerken heeft van een showproces. In wiens voordeel is het uit de sloot halen van ouwe koeien dan eigenlijk nog? Het antwoord ligt, duidelijk, ergens in de kluizen van Bern. Wie de sleutel heeft, weet niemand.
Julia Barr
drawings by Suzy Creamcheese
In these average times, full of mediocre products, mediocre media and mediocre mediocrity, there are still lights in the dark. These lights push their fields forward, by inventing a new way of thinking, doing and presenting. By being bold and inventive, rising all hopes for humanity again. And NO, I’m not exaggerating, the world would be double doomed without these people.
Well then. The first light in the dark is ‘Logicomix‘. This graphic novel tells the quest for the true face of mathematics, which sounds boring but isn’t since the quest is conducted by the overwhelming charming English professor Bertrand Russell. As a philosopher, logicus, and notorious pacifist, he uses logic to try to save mathematics, and humanity. His adventure is portrayed as if the fate of the world depends on it, a long and intense journey during which Russell must battle his inner demons to achieve the task.
His most famous contribution to the logic field is known as Russell’s paradox: imagine there is a town with one barber, and where the law states that everyone who doesn’t shave himself is shaved by the barber. Who shaves the barber? If he doesn’t shave himself he shaves himself, and if he shaves himself he doesn’t shave himself. We are led into a contradiction. It may seem funny (and it is), but its effect on the philosophy of mathematics was devastating. Contradiction is a fatal bullet wound for any logical system, and it seemed to kill off hope for a watertight foundation for mathematics. With his next book, the Principia Mathematica, Russell tried to repair the damage he had inflicted on his own dream. This book is probably the most impenetrable one ever written by a winner of the Nobel prize for literature. In it, he and the co-author Alfred North Whitehead, famously take 362 pages to prove 1 + 1 = 2. Yes, Logicomix also deals with the border between logic and madness.
What I like about ‘Logicomix’, is that the authors tell the story with humour and a lightness of touch that pokes fun at the philosophers and mathematicians involved, but never trivialises the philosophy or the mathematics. The novel is both tongue-in-cheek and profound. Also smart is the fact that the authors let Russell interact with figures he never met, but whose ideas influenced his theories. The novel is loaded with these and other mental interactions. A nice autumn present for anyone who has ever been passionate about something.
And the second light, speaks for itself.
VIDEOGIOCO by Donato Sansone from Enrico Ascoli – Sound Design
What’s happening in Iran is up to no good. President Mahmoud ‘oil on the table but nothing to eat’ Ahmadinejad got re-elected over the much more moderate opposition leader and (modest) reformer Mir-Hossein Mousavi after highly dubious elections. Ahmadinejad’s troops are hailing down – in every sense – any glimmer of hope for a new era for Iran now.
A new era within the tight bounds of the still totalitarian Iranian system, that is. Because the real power of Iran is in the hands of Ayatollah Khamenei. Only he has got the power to steer Iran into a new direction, not Mousavi. Of course chances are too low for zero that will ever happen in the near future. On the other side, the protests on the streets of Teheran are the most powerful ones since decades, which shows that Iranian people really are fed up with the situation, and finally find support in Musavi’s tone of voice and other Iranians supporting him.
The international reactions so far are weak, the international media coverage is just starting to unfold slowly. Some analyses so far come from NRC Middle East expert Carolien Roelants, the Guardian, Newsweek: ‘What Ahmadinejad’s win means for Iran, Israel and the United States’, and a blog report on De Standaard.
Furthermore, Middle East expert Robert Fisk is in Iran for the Independent, and Welingelichtekringen made a nice summary of internet newssources dealing with the Iran issue. The New York Times does something what many more newspapers should do: explain how and where they get their images about what’s going on in Teheran.
Declaration of Iranian artists in exile on facebook.
NBC report
A very inspiring and resourceful new issue of the bimonthly art paper ‘HTV de IJsberg’ is out now. This 79th issue is called ‘Mental architecture/former utopian building’ and is guest-edited by artist/curator/scenographer/culture gourmand Jean Bernard Koeman. The magazine collects (three) personal statements and (hidden) work of several artists like HAP, Geert Goiris, Thomas Hirschhorn, Jan De Cock, on how they are inspired by the utopians and architectural achievements of the 1950’s and the modernist era. It is a magazine full of pictures and personal thoughts on why these buildings or structures are important, funny or fantastic. A wonderful extra region to feed your mental map.
Example of (a part of) HAP’s contribution, read on here.
(…)
The thumb with mindmap is made by Jean Bernard Koeman.
Note on mental architecture. Mental architecture is one of the guiding assumptions of evolutionary psychology: that the human mind is composed of semi-independent modules (left and right brain being the most common ones). Interaction with the environment, but also internal processes like meditation, can alter our mental architecture, or the way our neurons are linked and grouped. Conceptually seen, you can also use the term ‘mental architecture’ for mapping out how you see the world, and on which thoughts, concepts, experiences, and images your map is based. Mental architecture is the building in ourselves (Jean Bernard Koeman)!
In order not to add too much extra’s to the information pile, I’ll keep this intro ultra short. Over.
Information overload, of all time (since the invention of printing in the 15th century), but how to deal with it? Some modest tips..
1. Read and remember. So don’t scan, but read slower. You can’t read it all, so you’d better read better. It’s also good to counter the erosion of your concentration skills.
2. Pick one established, reliable – which basically means as independent as possible – information source for everyday reading. But let some very obscure, crazy, and wicked ones in as well. Alternate between these underdog ones (frequency depends on your time), but keep the established one.
Examples of – generally accepted – reliable ones: The New York Times – The Guardian (plus their BBC section) – NRC handelsblad. Also a pleasure to read are Vrij Nederland, HP/De Tijd, de Groene Amsterdammer, Newsweek, the New Yorker, Times Online, Time. A good counterpart for the regular media, are sites like Indymedia, but they are often a little dull to read. New Scientist is a very well written and inspiring science source. Lifelounge, Designboom, Wired, Monocle, Designobserver, are a few culture/digital/design oriented sites. Some a bit more posh (Monocle), some very brisky (Lifelounge). But all real jems.
3. If you are looking for a bird’s eye view, try these meta-sites: Arts & Letters daily, Welingelichtekringen (former HP/De Tijd journalists). They scan other media, and make a selection of the most important content according to them. Sometimes one-sided and just scratching the surface, but the topics are often well chosen. It’s up to the reader to explore further.
4. If you don’t like reading, or if you like reading too much and lack time to read it all, try this new series of books. I didn’t check them out yet, but they appear to be reliable: Essentie.
5. Pay special attention to self-critical journalists who sometimes admit they don’t know, like Joris Luyendijk. They are of great value for humankind.
6. Distrust all news flashes/shows on television. It’s puppetry. It has to do with the nature of the medium (see Neil Postman’s ‘form excludes content’), with the omnipresent need for entertainment, and with vanity. Even watching tv-news daily may be harmful (unconsciously). Journalists mean it well, mostly, but think pretending they know helps humanity forward. And they are chained up by time. Heerlijk eerlijk Heertje was a beautiful attempt to unravel the mechanisms behind television and mediatization phenomena.
7. Stay critical, but don’t become paranoid.
8. Let technology not distract, but help you. Delicious (tagging), Netvibes (feedreader), Upgrade your life gives tips on how to handle your email overload etc.
9. To finish, some interesting thinkers on mediazation, mediatization & information overload: Rob Wijnberg, Nick Davies’ Flat earth news, Thomas De Zengotita, Neil Postman’s Amusing Ourselves to Death, Nicholas Carr ‘Is Google making us stupid?‘, etc.
I will update this article along the way. Because everything is fluid.
Bye bye.
Julia
‘Recycled churned* drawing with ennoying superfluous borders’ – by Suzy Creamcheese
* like in churnalism, you see
We are Gini Rose, Julia and Suzy. We draw, take pictures, film, and write (in English or Dutch) about everything we are intrigued by. We are never bored. Our hobby is to search for that kind of reality which may be elusive until the right kind of imagination falls upon it. We like to go outside. We also like to party. Want to know more? About is your button. Or click here to read our mighty mission statement. This page is our magazine, or a cabinet of views, viewpoints and new work. Here you'll find the RSS feed to stay updated. For an overview of our portfolio, take a dive into the deepsea..
