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Pulp – Disco 2000: I Never Knew That You’d Get Married, I would be living down here on my own…

9 Apr

“I never knew that you’d get married
I would be living down here on my own
On that damp and lonely Thursday years ago…”

Still from the video.

Pulp’s song “Disco 2000” from their 1995 album “Different Class” is a song about the singer Jarvis Cocker’s childhood crush Deborah, but told through the lense of adulthood. The song is based on real events from Cocker’s childhood; there was indeed a girl called Deborah who was popular and pretty, but had no interest in Cocker and didn’t notice him at all. In the song he fantasises about meeting her at some distant point in the future, in the year 2000, when they’re both grown ups. There is a wittiness and a sense of humour, a slight self-deprecation which are all always present in Pulp’s songs but there is also a tinge of sadness, especially as the song’s narrator is realising that his childhood crush is now married while he is single and lonely on that damp Thursday: “I never knew that you’d get married/ I would be living down here on my own/ On that damp and lonely Thursday years ago….” There is even a cute sort of desperation when he sings “Oh, what are you doing Sunday, baby?/ Would you like to come and meet me, maybe?/ You can even bring your baby…” He doesn’t even care that she is with somebody, as long as he can see her.

Stills from the music video.

It is as if in one moment you are a carefree teen sitting bored in school, fantasising what your adult life might be, and you blink and suddenly you are twenty-something and your peers are getting married and having children. Doors are closing, opportunities being limited. We all have a certain someone that we fancied back in high school, or even primary school and we may have had certain fantasies and now we may have the what-ifs. That interest may have been only one-sided, or both parties may have been too shy to act upon anything… Time passes and school finishes. We move on with our life and we forget about that person, but there is always a warm, pure feeling to the memory. And the memory is pure and warm precisely because nothing happened; if something did happen, then it would likely leave us disappointed, as most school-age ‘loves’ do. Something that could have been always has more charm than something that is. For those living in small towns such as myself the feeling is even stronger because there is less people to see and it is almost impossible to avoid certain people even if we want to. Someone that was a rebel-without-a-cause, sitting with you in the last row in biology class and cracking jokes is now delivering pizza and you pretend not to see them when you do see them. I guess we’ll never meet at the fountain by the road.

The lyrics of the song:
“Oh, we were born within an hour of each otherOur mothers said we could be sister and brotherYour name is Deborah (Deborah)It never suited yaAnd they said that when we grew upWe’d get married, and never split upOh, we never did it, although I often thought of it
Oh, Deborah, do you recall?Your house was very smallWith wood chip on the wallWhen I came ’round to callYou didn’t notice me at all

And I said, “Let’s all meet up in the year 2000Won’t it be strange when we’re all fully grown?Be there two o’clock by the fountain down the road”I never knew that you’d get marriedI would be living down here on my ownOn that damp and lonely Thursday years ago

You were the first girl at school to get breastsAnd Martyn said that you were the bestOh, the boys all loved you, but I was a messI had to watch them try and get you undressedWe were friends, that was as far as it wentI used to walk you home sometimes but it meantOh, it meant nothing to you‘Cause you were so popular…
Oh, what are you doing Sunday, baby?Would you like to come and meet me, maybe?You can even bring your babyOoh ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh…”
*
The video for the song features a guy and a gal, played by models Jo and Patrick Skinny, who take time to get ready for a Saturday night disco and they both hope the other will also be there and they are both looking for a hook up. The video for “Disco 2000”, just like the video for the songs “Lipgloss” and “Common People” has that vibrant, artficial, retro aesthetic so typical for Pulp’s 1990s videos. Another thing I liked a lot about the video, apart from the garish, eye-candy, ’70s inspired aesthetics, is that it tells the tale almost in the style of a comic-book. If you pause the video every now and then, as I did to get screenshots for pictures for this post, you will notice that the the video is almost made out of pictures, a few seconds for each scene, and one after another and a story is told. There are even captions, unrelated to the song’s lyrics, which show us what the guy and the girl are thinking. It is interesting to see how they both want the other to notice them, but don’t want to appear to eager as well, so typical for love games. Jarvis Cocker did after all study fine art and film at Saint Martin’s College of Arts from 1988 to 1991 and aesthetic was important to him. I appreciate cleverness in lyrics and videos of rock songs, just as I appreciate art in various forms. This video is artistically interesting to me as any normal oil on canvas paintings would be.
*

It’s Saturday night, it feels like a Sunday in some ways. If I had any sense I’d maybe go away for a few days…

6 Jan

I really love Donovan’s song “Young Girl Blues“, released on his 1967 album “Mellow Yellow”. I find it beautiful and touching, and while Donovan’s version has a distinct sadness to it, I find myself listening to Marianne Faithfull‘s version of the song, released on her fourth studio album “Love in a Mist” also in 1967, more often because it feels more subjective and more intimate. While Donovan is lamenting on the fate of a young girl and her transition to adulthood and finding her way in the crowd, Marianne is the young girl and she is experiencing it first hand. For some reason, whenever I listen to the song, and what is more convenient than to listen to it on a Saturday night, I always have in mind this painting called “Julie Daydreaming” by Berthe Morisot from 1894. The painting shows Morisot’s teenage daughter looking wistful and there is melancholy in her eyes; must I grow up, and what awaits me? Only questions, but no one is there to give answers, and perhaps it is better not to even know the answers… Be that as it may, I can only say I am lonely.

Berthe Morisot, Julie Daydreaming, 1894

It’s Saturday night, it feels like a Sunday in some ways.
If I had any sense I’d maybe go away for a few days.
Be that as it may, I can only say I am lonely,
I am but a young girl, working my way through the phonies.

Coffee on, milk gone, a sad light by fading,
Myself I touch, but not too much, I hear it’s degrading.

The flowers on my stockings are wilting away in the midnight.
The book I am reading is one man’s opinion of moonlight.
My skin is so white, I’d like maybe to go to bed soon,
Closing my eyes, if I’m to rise up before noon.

High heels, car wheels, the losers are grooving.
My dream, strange seem images are moving.

My friends, they are making a pop star or two every evening.
I know that scene backwards, they can’t see the patterns they’re weaving.
My friends they are models but I soon got over that one.
I sit in my one room, a little brought-down in London.

Coffee on, milk gone, a sad light by fading,
Myself I touch, but not too much, I hear it’s degrading.

La la la la la, la la la la la la la la la.
La la la la la, la la la la la la la la la.
La la la la, la la la la la …

Wined and dined, oh it seemed just like a dream (Henri Le Sidaner)

22 Sep

Wined and dined
Oh it seemed just like a dream
Girl was so kind
Kind of love I’d never seen

Only last summer, it’s not so long ago
Just last summer, now musk winds blow…

(Syd Barrett, Wined and Dined)

Henri Le Sidaner, Table with Lanterns in Gerberoy, 1924

These late summer days when the air is tinged with a sense of transience, and I am haunted by the memories, the paintings of Henri La Sidaner have been on my mind a lot. Their quiet, slightly mysterious and intimate mood is strangely comforting when I am feeling the way I am feeling these days. It almost seems to represent an image from my memory, or not even memory alone, for nothing is as beautiful in real life, but an embellished memory, a made up memory of a life that never was but a memory that feeds me and helps me live through the days. One motif that repeats itself all throughout Le Sidaner’s painting is that of an empty space and I think that this, amongst other things, is something that gives his paintings that mysterious, slightly ethereal quality. Quiet interiors and quiant street scenes were his favourites motifs to paint but these are always empty spaces and this absence of people, or anything living really, is what draws me to these paintings. Let’s take a look at the painting “Table with Lanterns in Gerberoy” painted in 1924, which seems to be my favourite for a long time now. A simple scene but beautifully atmospheric. A table laid out for people; wine bottles, glasses, fruits, a jug, and a vase with roses. In the background a house with windows overgrown with roses. Colourful paper lanterns. Some clothes laid out over the chairs as if someone had just left the scene. I can still hear the music in the air, melancholy violins and the sounds of crickets, and perhaps a distant sound of a woman’s laughter. But… where are the people? Who knows. Are the roses still echoing with the words from the party guests’ conversations, or are they yet to see the guests? Is the wine in the glasses half-drunk or has it only been half-poured? There is always a hint of someone’s presence in Le Sidaner’s art but never a face painted directly, and I think it better that way because this allows for the mystery and the dreaminess which is the ultimate charm of this painting and many other of his.

Henri le Sidaner, The Table in the Gerberoy Garden at Dusk, 1900s

Henri Le Sidaner, La Table, 1901

Henri Le Sidaner, La petite table, 1920

Henri Le Sidaner, Small Table in Evening Dusk, 1921

Henri Le Sidaner, La Gloriette, Gerberoy, 1929

This painting, and some of Le Sidaner’s similar dinner table in the garden scenes, always bring to mind a song from one of Syd Barrett’s solo albums, one of my personal favourites as well, “Wined and Dined” from the album “Barrett” (1970). The song, just like Le Sidaner’s painting, has that melancholy feeling of a beauty that simply cannot be preserved, the height of such beauty, the most raw; summer that is ending soon, a flower that is wilting, something beautiful is passing and there is nothing one can do to prevent it and it aches the heart like nothing else. In this sense, I am also reminded of Watteau’s paintings, the fragile and delicate worlds of beauty, where beautifully clad ladies and cheerful harlequins engage eternally in a game of love and joy, but still there is a whisper of sadness in the trees. An idyllic garden party on a summer eve is an example of such beauty; a moment in time when one can wine and dine freely and the autumn is not yet there to brush one’s cheek with its cold breath, the leaves are the strongest and greenest, and one cannot imagine that they will ever fall down, the music of the crickets is there and it soothes the ear, and everything seems possible and everlasting. To encapsulate such a moment and live in it would be a dream.

Aubrey Beardsley: How a Devil in Woman’s Likeness Would Have Tempted Sir Bors (Le Morte d’Arthur)

4 Aug

“End of the pier, end of the bayYou tug my arm, and say “Give in to lust, give up to lustOh, heaven knows we’ll soon be dust”Oh, I’m not the man you think I am…

I could have been wild and I could have been freeBut nature played this trick on meShe wants it nowAnd she will not waitBut she’s too roughAnd I’m too delicateThen, on the sandAnother man, he takes her handA smile lights up her stupid face(…) I lost my faith in womanhood…”
(The Smiths, Pretty Girls Make Graves)

Aubrey Beardsley, How a Devil in Woman’s Likeness Would Have Tempted Sir Bors, for “Le Morte d’Arthur” by Thomas Malory, 1893, pen, ink and wash

Aubrey Beardsley’s pen and ink illustration “How a Devil in Woman’s Likeness Would Have Tempted Sir Bors” for Thomas Malory’s “Le Morte d’Arthur”  is as visually striking as it is interesting when one knows the literary background of it.

This particular illustration illustrates the scene where Sir Bors, one of the knights of the round table, is displaying his virtuous character and his determination to keep the vow of celibacy despite the temptations. A beautiful lady has asked Sir Bors to ‘lay with her’, which he refused and then she threatened to kill herself by jumping off of the castle battlement alongside her devoted maiden-companions. When they do jump from the tower, Sir Bors sees that they were nothing but demons wearing masks of beautiful ladies to tempt him. In Beardsley’s illustration we don’t see the moment when they jump from the tower, nor the moment of metamorphosis from beautiful women to demons, which would be an interesting illustration to see, but instead we have a scene where the women are on the castle battlement, looking down at Sir Bors, luring him with their beauty and long hairs. One is even seen reaching down towards him with her bracelets-adorned arm.

There is a beautiful, playful interchange of silhouettes and patterns in Beardsley’s illustration. Take a look at the ladies’ hairstyle, for example; while one lady’s hair is black from ink, the one next to her has a hairstyle drawn in wave-like lines. The scene is visually divided in two with Sir Bors occupying the space on the left half of the drawing and the figures of the ladies and the castle are dominating the space of the other half of the drawing. It is almost as if they are looming over poor Sir Bors who, I must say, looks rather weak and effeminate in Beardsley’s imagination. If I didn’t know the literary background of the illustration, I would never have guessed that it is a tale about Sir Bors’ integrity and determination. Perhaps he is clad in his armour, and perhaps he is holding his shield and sword, but his longish hair and downward gaze make him look more like a lost and frail flower child.

There’s not a lot of other details going on in the scene apart from those which are crucial for portraying the scene, but still the ones which are there beautifully fulfill the illustration. There are flowers growing on the meadow on which Sir Bors is standing, there are roofs of the houses in the village in the distance, and on the far left there is a row of trees with very intricately drawn leaves. One bird is seen flying ominously in the sky. Very foreboding. The overall mood of the scene is strange, a tad unsettling; the knight is effeminate, the Lady, accompanied with her maides, is too aggresive, leaning over the castle battlement and displaying her charms, leaving him with no choice almost; “she is too rought and he’s too delicate”, to paraphrase The Smiths’ song. I can almost hear the Lady looking down at Sir Bors and telling him “Oh give up to lust, heaven knows we’ll soon be dust!” Oh perhaps the Lady “knows the quick and easy way”, but Sir Bors is not the man she thinks he is! And he has proved that in the end. Typical for the decadence of the fin de siecle; the honour and chivalry of the Pre-Raphaelites had dissolved into a strangeness, like the face of Coraline’s other mother in the movie when it transforms from normal and lovely mother to a monster. In the imagination of the fin-de-siecle artists the image of a good and pure woman has been warped into the image of a man-eater and a femme fatale.

And here is a fragment of the chapter XII from the Book XVI:

ALAS, said she, Bors, shall ye not do my will? Madam, said Bors, there is no lady in the world whose will I will fulfil as of this thing, for my brother lieth dead which was slain right late. Ah Bors, said she, I have loved you long for the great beauty I have seen in you, and the great hardiness that I have heard of you, that needs ye must lie by me this night, and therefore I pray you grant it me. Truly, said he, I shall not do it in no manner wise. Then she made him such sorrow as though she would have died. Well Bors, said she, unto this have ye brought me, nigh to mine end. And there with she took him by the hand, and bade him behold her. And ye shall see how I shall die for your love. Ah, said then he, that shall I never see.

Then she departed and went up into an high battlement, and led with her twelve gentlewomen; and when they were above, one of the gentlewomen cried, and said: Ah, Sir Bors, gentle knight have mercy on us all, and suffer my lady to have her will, and if ye do not we must suffer death with our lady, for to fall down off this hightower, and if ye suffer us thus to die for so little a thing all ladies and gentlewomen will say or you dishonour. Then looked he upward, they seemed all ladies of great estate, and richly and well beseen. Then had he of them great pity; not for that he was uncounselled in himself that lief er he had they all had lost their souls than he his, and with that they fell a down all at once unto the earth.

Nick Cave – Are You the One That I’ve Been Waiting For? – Carl Krenek – The Lovers

19 May

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds’s single “(Are You) The One I’ve Been Waiting For?” was released on the 19th May 1997. It was the first out of two singles from their album “The Boatman’s Call” which Nick Cave personally had expressed a dislike for, claiming the album was too personal and that music shouldn’t be that personal. The other single from the album is the song “Where Do We Go Now But Nowhere” which is sad but very beautiful as well. For some reason this painting of lovers in the month of May by the Austrian painter Carl Krenek seemed very fitting to accompany the song’s lyrics. I do love the tenderness between the lovers and the way the entire natural space is filled with flowers and leaves.

Carl Krenek, May – The Lovers (Mai – Die Liebenden), 1905, tempera

Are You The One That I’ve Been Waiting For?

I’ve felt you coming, girl, as you drew near
I knew you’d find me, cause I longed you here
Are you my destiny?
Is this how you’ll appear?
Wrapped in a coat with tears in your eyes?
Well take that coat, babe, and throw it on the floor
Are you the one that I’ve been waiting for?

As you’ve been moving surely toward me
My soul has comforted and assured me
That in time my heart it will reward me
And that all will be revealed
So I’ve sat and I’ve watched an ice-age thaw
Are you the one that I’ve been waiting for?

Out of sorrow entire worlds have been built
Out of longing great wonders have been willed
They’re only little tears, darling, let them spill
And lay your head upon my shoulder
Outside my window the world has gone to war
Are you the one that I’ve been waiting for?

O we will know, won’t we?
The stars will explode in the sky
O but they don’t, do they?
Stars have their moment and then they die

There’s a man who spoke wonders
Though I’ve never met him
He said, ‘He who seeks finds
And who knocks will be let in’
I think of you in motion
And just how close you are getting
And how every little thing anticipates you
All down my veins my heart-strings call
Are you the one that I’ve been waiting for?

10:15 On a Saturday Night Waiting For the Telephone to Ring, Wondering Where He’s Been…

29 Apr

The song “10:15 Saturday Night” was the first song on the band’s debut album “The Three Imaginary Boys”, released on 11th May 1979. Just like many other songs by The Cure, it is about loneliness and despair, on a Saturday night which is very convenient because Saturday is usually the fun day of the week, the day for parties and pleasure, but it can also be the loneliest day, and night, of the week. Even if the party-abstinence and the isolation are self-imposed, as they were with Morrissey for example, one does still feel this slight ache… Robert Smith actually wrote the song when he was sixteen years old while sitting in his kitchen and feeling lonely one Saturday night. The song does have a teenage vibe to it and I love its rawness and simplicity. The water dripping in the sink, as described in the lyrics, is a monotonous reminder of the passing of time and it adds to the overall mood of doom and gloom; he is alone at home on a Saturday night, waiting for the telephone to ring, waiting for the girl to call, wondering where she’s been, and the dripping of the water in the sink is the only sound breaking the moody silence. Now, Millais’ watercolour “Dreams at Dawn”, painted in 1968, has a dawn setting, but who’s to say it’s not 10:15 and the girl is on her balcony, wondering where her beloved is? Is he thinking of her? Is he writing to her? The quietness of the lonely evening is only disturbed by her occasional sigh or a scream of a distant bird. The girl’s pose, her head leaned on her hand, says it all. Her eyes may be turned upwards at the big shining moon, but we know her thoughts are elsewhere… The stars may be shining beautifully but the magic is lost for her because she can’t stop wondering; where he’s been???

John Everett Millais, A Dream at Dawn, 1868

10.15
10.15
Saturday night
Saturday night
And the tap drips
And the tap drips
Under the strip light
Under the strip light
And I’m sitting
And I’m sitting
In the kitchen sink
In the kitchen sink
And the tap drips
And the tap drips
Drip drip drip drip drip drip drip drip
Drip drip drip drip drip drip drip drip
Waiting
Waiting
For the telephone to ring
For the telephone to ring
And I’m wondering
And I’m wondering
Where she’s been
Where she’s been
And I’m crying
And I’m crying
For yesterday
For yesterday
And the tap drips
And the tap drips
Drip drip drip drip drip drip drip drip
Drip drip drip drip drip drip drip drip
It’s always the same
It’s always the same

Lovers – Jugend Magazine Cover April 1899: Far worse to be Love’s lover than the lover that Love has scorned, I LET LOVE IN… (Nick Cave)

18 Apr

Far worse to be Love’s lover than the lover that Love has scorned
I let love in…
(Nick Cave, I Let Love In)

Angelo Jank, Cover of Jugend Magazine, 8 April 1899

I have been taking great aesthetical delight in this April 1899 cover of the German Jugend Magazine, painted by Angelo Jank, for months now but have patiently been waiting for April to write about it. And write about it I must because I feel it, in a way, encapsulates the romantic spirit of my blog. All the covers for the turn of the century editions of the Jugend Magazine are beautiful and innovative, but this one is by far my favourite. It is simple but stunning. Two lovers are shown kneeling on the grass, holding hands, their lips locked in a kiss. One doesn’t know where one lovers begins and where the other ends, why, even their knees are touching. Locked in a kiss forever, these painted-lovers, in a flowery meadow of a turn of the century magazine. Do they know they have been kissing for more than a hunred years? And has it been enough for them, and do their lips still taste ever so sweet? They seem out of time and place, and even their clothes have a historical flair, especially the man’s attire but the lady’s free-flowing dress as well brings to mind the fanciful princess from some bygone era.

The background is made out of stylised roses and leaves, very simple but fitting. There is a simplicity to this scene, but also a beautiful flow, a rhythm of nature and a rhythm of love. The lovers’ pose with the touching points; the kiss, the hands and the knees, is very much in the Art Nouveau style, though it does bear a great resemblance to Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s study for the cover of “The Early Italian Poets”, drawn in 1861. I feel that Angelo Jank’s drawing is more organic and flowing; both lovers are kneeling and seem to be in tune with one another and the nature around them. Even the shades of green on their clothing and in the background are the same. Still, it is interesting to see the influence of the Pre-Raphaelites seeping into the artworks even half a century later, almost, in a completely different artistic and geographical setting. Namely, the Jugend Magazine or simply “Jugend” which means “Youth” in German was an influential German art magazine that was being published from 1896 to 1940, although its peak was at the turn of the century. It was founded by Georg Hirth in Munich and he was the main editor of the magazine until he died in 1916. The legacy of the magazine, apart from the gorgeous and sometimes witty covers, is the promotion of the Jugendstil, which was the German version of the Art Nouveau style.

These past few days I have been listening to the Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds’s eighth studio album “Let Love In” very intensely and surprise, surprise, I discover that it was actually released on the 18th April 1994. Since the album, as most of Nick Cave’s music does anyway, revolves around the theme of love, in all its faces – the beautiful and the ugly, the angelic and the demonic, I thought it would be a perfect timing to publish a post about this magazine cover and, in some strange way, make it connected to Nick Cave’s album. To end a post, here are some lines from the last song on the album, the part two of the song “Do You Love Me”:

“Do you love me?
 I love you, handsome
But do you love me?
Yes, I love you,
 you are handsome…
Dreams that roam
 between truth and untruth
Memories that become monstrous lies
So onward! And Onward! And Onward I go!
Onward! And Upward! And I’m off to find love
With blue-black bracelets on my wrists and ankles
And the coins in my pocket go jingle-jangle…”

Dante Gabriel Rossetti, The Early Italian Poets (study for titlepage), 1861

Syd Barrett’s Favourite Artists and Artworks

6 Jan

January is always a time of sobering up, the hangover after a wild party of colours, vibrancy and magic that is December. I hate that! I want the party to go on perpetually, I don’t want to ‘sober’ up… ever. I want to always be drunk on music, art, poetry, love and beauty. And so this drab, lonely and grey month always passes in a whimsical mood for me because I celebrate Syd Barrett’s birthday every year. Syd Barrett was born on the 6th January 1946. But the celebration doesn’t begin and end on the 6th, oh no, it lingers on and on. I devote myself these days to listening to Pink Floyd’s early work, then Syd’s solo albums, reading one of my ultimate favourites: Julian Palacios’s wonderful book “Syd Barrett and Pink Floyd: Dark Globe”. The book instantly transports me back in time, to some whimsical, groovy, fairy tale-like place which perhaps never even existed, or it did, but only for a moment, like a shooting star. This is a post I originally wrote six years ago to celebrate Syd’s birthday, but I thought I’d repost it today because it’s been six years, come on, and I know there are many new readers now who probably have not read it. Enjoy!

Syd Barrett with his painting, spring 1964

In this post we’ll discuss two of my favourite things in the world; Syd Barrett and art. Despite having achieved fame as a musician, first with Pink Floyd, and then later with two solo-albums, Syd was a painter first and foremost. He attended the Camberwell School of Arts and Crafts in London, and continued painting later in life. Let’s take a look at the artists and artworks Syd loved! Syd’s first passion was art. Some even went as far as saying that he was a better painter than a musician. Even David Gilmour said that Syd was talented at art before he did guitar. I’ve seen his paintings, and I wouldn’t agree. What could surpass the beauty that he’s created musically?

All quotes in this post are from the book ‘Syd Barrett and Pink Floyd: Dark Globe’ by Julian Palacios, and so is this one: ‘Waters brought older, upper-class friends round to Barrett’s house after school, among them Andrew Rawlinson and Bob Klose. They found him painting, paint below his easel, newspaper as a drop cloth and brushes on the windowsill. Painting and music ran in tandem, and Barrett was good at both. (…) Barrett sketched, painted and wrote, his output prolific.

syd-80Syd holding one of his paintings.

Syd first attended the Saturday-morning classes at Homerton College, and then started a two-year programme at the Cambridgeshire College of Arts and Technology in autumn 1962. Along with his enthusiasm and skill at painting, he was good at memorising dates and authors of paintings. Here’s another quote that demonstrates Syd’s painting technique: ‘Syd drew and painted with ease, demonstrating a deft balance between shadow and light. He had a talent for portraits, though his subjects sometimes looked somewhat frozen. Best at quick drawings, Syd had a good feel for abstract art, creating bright canvases in red and blue.‘ It seems to me that Syd would have loved Rothko; an American Abstract-Expressionist artist who painted his canvases in strong colours with spiritual vibe.

Then, in autumn of 1964, Syd came to London to study at Camberwell School of Arts and Crafts. The curriculum at Camberwell was more rigorous than what Syd was used to at his previous college of arts: ‘At Camberwell, drawing formed the core curriculum. Tutors put Barrett through his paces working in different mediums and materials.‘ Syd’s art tutor, Christopher Chamberlain was taken with Syd’s tendency to paint in blunt, careless brushstrokes. Later in life, Barrett tended to burn his paintings, ‘psychedelic paintings, vaguely reminiscent of Jackson Pollock‘ because he believed that the point lies in creation and the finished product is unimportant. I can’t understand that at all – my paintings are my children.

Now I’ll be talking about seven artists that are in one way or another connected to Syd Barrett.

1918. Hébuterne by ModiglianiAmedeo Modigliani, Portrait of Jeanne Hébuterne, 1918

Modigliani

Sitting cross-legged in the cellar at Hills Road, Mick Rock was impressed as Syd rolled a joint with quick, nimble had. Nicely stoned, they listened to blues and talked about Italian painter Amedeo Modigliani, until the morning light peeked through the narrow slot windows.

Amedeo Modigliani; whose name itself sounds like a sad hymn of beauty, is perhaps one of the most unsung heroes of the art world. And the story of Amedeo and Jeanne’s love is perhaps the saddest of all. When Modigliani died, she couldn’t bear life without him so she threw herself out of the window, eight months pregnant at the time, oh how engulfed in sadness that January of 1920 must have been. Modigliani painted women, he painted them nude, and he painted their heads with large sad eyes, elongated faces, long necks and sloping shoulders. I think Modigliani expressed melancholy and the fragility of life like no other painter. I can’t tell for sure that Syd loved Modigliani, but since he talked about him, I take it that he was at least interested in the story behind his art. I would really like to hear that conversation between Syd and Rock.

gustav klimt beechwood forestGustav Klimt, Beechwood forest, 1902

Klimt

Appealing to Barrett’s Cantabrigian sensibilities were paintings like Gustav Klimt’s 1903 Beechwood Forest, where dense beech trees blot the sky, each leaf captured in one golden brushstroke.

Smouldering eroticism pervades all of Gustav Klimt’s artworks. Sometimes flamboyant, at other occasions toned down, but always burning in the shadow. In ‘Beechwood Forest’, Klimt paints trees with sensuality and elegance. He always painted landscape as a means of meditation, usually on holidays spent in Litzlberg at Lake Attersee, enjoying the warm, sunny days with his life companion Emilie Flöge. Klimt approached painting landscapes the same way he painted women, with visible sensuality and liveliness. The absence of people in all of his landscapes suggest that Klimt perceived the landscape as a living being, mystical pantheism was always prevalent. The nature, in all its greenness, freshness and mystery, was a beautiful woman for Klimt.

1891. James Ensor, Skeletons Fighting Over a Hanged ManJames Ensor, Skeletons Fighting Over a Hanged Man, 1891

James Ensor

Stephen Pyle recalled that Syd’s main interests were expressionist artist Chaim Soutine and surrealist painters Salvador Dali and James Ensor. Ensor’s surreal party of clowns with skeletons cropped up in his artwork even thirty years later.

Belgian painter James Ensor (1860-1949) was a true innovator of the late 19th century art. He was alone and misunderstood amongst his contemporaries, just like many revolutionary artists are, but he helped in clearing the path for some art movements like Surrealism and Expressions which would turn out to be more popular than Ensor himself. Painting ‘Skeletons Fighting Over a Hanged Man’ is a good example of Ensor’s themes and style of painting: skeletons, puppets, masks and intrigues painted in thick but small brushstrokes, with just a hint of morbidness all found their place in Ensor’s art. There’s no doubt that Barrett was inspired by the twisted whimsicality and playfulness of Ensor’s canvases.

1920. Les Maisons by SoutineChaim Soutine, Les Maisons, 1920

Soutine

Art historian William Shutes noted,Barrett used large single brushstrokes, built up layer by layer, layer over layer, like relief contours.

Chaim Soutine was a wilful eccentric, an Eastern Jew, an introvert who left no diaries and only a few letters. But he left a lot of paintings, mostly landscapes that all present us with his bitter visions of the world. He painted in thick, heavy brushstrokes laden with pain, anger, resentment and loneliness. In ‘Les Maisons’ the houses are crooked, elongated, painted in murky earthy colours. Their mood of alienation and instability is ever present in Soutine’s art. He portrayed his depression and psychological instability very eloquently. Description of Barrett’s style of painting, layers and layers of colour, relief brushstrokes, reminds me very much of the way Soutine painted; in heavy brushstrokes, tormented by pain and longings, as if layering colours could release the burden off of his soul.

Ren? Magritte, The Son of Man, 1964, Restored by Shimon D. Yanowitz, 2009 øðä îàâøéè, áðå ùì àãí, 1964, øñèåøöéä ò"é ùîòåï éðåáéõ, 2009Rene Magritte, The Son of Man, 1964

Rene Magritte

There’s no doubt that, as a Surrealist, Magritte was inspirational to young people in the sixties who were inclined to listening to psychedelic music or had a whimsical imagination. With Barrett, Magritte is mostly associated with his ‘Vegetable Man’ phase, in times when his LSD usage was getting out of control, just prior to being kicked out of band. Magritte is, along with Dali, another Surrealist that appealed to Barrett’s imagination. Belgian artist, Magritte meticulously painted similar, everyday objects like men in suits, clouds, pipes, umbrellas and buildings with strange compositions and shadows. In ‘The Son of Man’, some have suggested that he was dealing with the subject of one’s own identity, and that might be something that appealed to Syd when he appeared in the promotional picture with spring onions tied to his head which is an obvious wink to Magritte, not to mention Acimboldo.

1875. Les Raboteurs de parquet - Gustave CaillebotteGustave Caillebotte, Les Raboteurs de parquet, 1875

Gustave Caillebotte

Lying in bed one morning, he stared at his blanket’s orange and blue stripes and had a flashback to Gustave Caillebotte’s 1875 painting ‘The Wood Floor Planers’, which depicts workers scraping the wood floors of a sunlit room in striated patterns. Inspired, with Storm Thorgenson’s garish orange and red room at Egerton fresh in his mind, he got up, pushed his few belongings into a corner, and sauntered off to fetch paint from the Earl’s Court Road.

This is perhaps Caillebotte’s best legacy – inspiring Syd Barrett to paint his floor in stripes which later ended up gracing his first solo-album, the famously dark and whimsical ‘The Madcap Laughs’, released on 3 January 1970. Like the cover, other pictures taken that spring day in 1969 by Mick Rock and Storm Thorgenson, are all filled with light and have a transcendent mood.

1935-dali-paranoiac-visageDali, Paranoiac Visage, 1935

Dali

I believe none of you are surprised that Dali is on this list. Anyone who is familiar with his art will know that it ties very well with the music of Pink Floyd, and perhaps some other psychedelic bands. There’s no one quite like Dali in the world of art. Art he created, like Surrealism in general, is a visual portrayal of Freud’s ideas of the unconscious, and is based on irrationality, dreams, hallucinations and obsessions. His paintings are mostly hallucinogenic landscapes in the realm of dreams; realistic approach combined with deformed figures and objects which, just like in the art of Giorgio de Chirico, evokes feelings of anxiety in the viewer.

When I like an artist, musician or a writer, I always want to know what inspired them, or what they thought of something that I love. What did Barrett really think of Modigliani, for example? But, some things will forever stay a mystery. Perhaps it’s better that way.

You’ve been reading some old letters, You smile and you think how much you’ve changed

29 Dec

The end of the year approaching, my thoughts naturally tend towards reflection. Bouts of a bittersweet wistfulness overwhelm me often these nights. So many different feelings mix and mingle in my soul, to quote Morrissey, “I’m not happy and I’m not sad”. Night after night, when everyone is asleep, I found myself alone in the quiet stillness of the night, flipping through the pages of my many diaries written throughout the years. I don’t even know why I have the habit of doing it, for it only leaves me shattered and in tears, but at times there shines a smile on my face and this song, not originally written but covered by the Welsh band the Manic Street Preachers comes to mind. I love how the video for the song captures the highlights of the band’s early years, especially moments with Richey who looks just stunning with his eyeliner and cool hairdo. I really love how the song combines both sentiments; the looking back at the past and all the wonderful moments that no money in the world could bring back, but also stating ‘this is the day your life will surely change’ so it’s looking cheerfully into the future and what goods things it might bring. It’s almost like the Roman God Janus who represents things such as duality, gateways, passageways, transitions, endings, beginnings, and whose face looks both ways; into the past and into the future. To be able to simply appreciate the beautiful moments of the past days without the ache of yearning in your heart, now that would be a true gift.

William Turner, Moonlight, 1841

You didn’t wake up this morning
’cause you didn’t go to bed
You were watching the whites of your eyes turn red

The calendar on your wall is ticking the days off
You’ve been reading some old letters
You smile and you think how much you’ve changed
And all the money in the world
Couldn’t bring back those days


You pull back the curtains
And the sun burns into your eyes
You watch a plane flying
Across a clear blue sky

This is the day, your life will surely change
This is the day when things fall into place

You could’ve done anything if you’d wanted
And all your friends and family think that you’re lucky
But the side of you they’ll never see
Is when you’re left alone with the memories
That hold your life together, together like glue


You pull back the curtains
And the sun burns into your eyes
You watch a plane flying
Across a clear blue sky
This is the day, your life will surely change
This is the day when things fall into place
This is the day, your life will surely change
This is the day when things fall into place
This is the day
This is the day

Serge Gainsbourg’s L’Hôtel Particulier and the Art of Paul Delvaux

20 Dec

“All my life I’ve tried to transcribe reality to make it into a kind of dream.”

(Paul Delvaux)

Paul Delvaux, Sleeping Venus (La Venus Endormie), 1944

Serge Gainsbourg’s acclaimed concept album “Historie de Melody Nelson” released on 24 March 1971 has a Lolitaesque theme and in seven unique yet connected songs tells a tale of an older gentleman (Serge) who, by accident, collides his car into the red bicycle of a sweet and pretty schoolgirl called Melody Nelson (Jane Birkin). This chance seemingly unhappy encounter blossoms into a flower of seduction and romance as the gentleman takes Melody to a hotel. This part of the musical story is told in the fifth song “L’hôtel particulier“. Needless to say, I very much enjoy the variety of different musical styles on the album’s songs, and I love the innocently-sexy Jane Birkin in the videos, but it is the video for this song “L’hôtel particulier” that fascinates me in particular because it features the wondrous paintings of the Belgian Surrealist painter Paul Delvaux (1897-1994) who was actually still alive during the time the album was made. Not only alive, but also very prolific. Even though he was the last surviving Surrealist during his life, he was a wanderer and an individualist in the Surrealist crowd who created a unique dream-like world on his canvases which feature repetitive motifs; Classical architecture, nocturnal setting, nude women whose bodies are white as snow and appear smooth as marble, skeletons, crescent moon, trains, boudoirs.

The shaping of Delvaux’s art career was a slow and steady process because at first his parents pressured him into studying architecture, it was something he didn’t enjoy but it did serve him greatly later in creating the strange, accurately depicted yet eerie spaces in his paintings. In 1934 Delvaux saw the Surrealist exhibition “Minotaure” and this inspired him to start working in the direction of Surrealism because it led him back to the imaginative state of childhood. Delvaux’s art also shows the influence of Giorgio de Chirico’s cold and enigmatic worlds where architecture is drawn with precision yet the overall effect is unsettling. In 1937 and 1939 he visited Italy and the architecture inspired him to serve as a setting for the world of his languid dead-eyed hypnotised nudes. Delvaux painted some wonderful eerie paintings even in the late 1960s and 1970s, but the paintings chosen for Gainsbourg’s video were mostly painted in the 1940s. The World War II period was a harsh one for Delvaux as it was for everyone, but it only inspired him to paint more and to retreat into the world of his imagination. The artist stated “I would like to create a fabulous painting in which I would live, in which I could live.”

As a child he was afraid of skeletons but later in life he found a way to incorporate them into his nocturnal worlds, bones glistening in moonlight, death opposing the sensuality of the women’s nude flesh. One such skeleton pops up in the painting “Sleeping Venus” painted in 1944, and unlike skeletons in James Ensor’s art (a fellow Belgian painter), Delvaux’s skeleton is unashamed of himself, he doesn’t put on a mask or hide under some garish carnival clothes. Nude Venus is sweetly asleep on a divan in front of the temple-like building while the skeleton is having a fascinating conversation with a Belle Epoque woman with a large brimmed hat and a dark red dress. The conversation is so fascinating that not even the passing couple, Serge and Jane, can interrupt it. Even though Delvaux’s paintings aren’t directly connected to the music and the song, I think they create a striking background visually which really leaves the viewer interested.

Bellow I’ve compared Delvaux’s paintings to stills from the video and also added the lyrics of the song because they are really descriptive:

Paul Delvaux, The Echo, 1943

Au cinquante-six, sept, huit, peu importeDe la rue X, si vous frappezÀ la porteD’abord un coup, puis trois autresOn vous laisse entrerSeul et parfois même accompagné
*
At number fifty-six, seven, eight… who knows,
Of the unnameable street,
if you knock on the door
One knock first, then three more,
they will let you in
Alone or sometimes even not alone.

Paul Delvaux, Night Train, 1947

Une servante, sans vous dire un motVous précèdeDes escaliersDes couloirs sans fin se succèdentDécorés de bronzes baroquesD’anges dorésD’Aphrodites et de Salomés
*
Without saying a word,
a maid leads you
Through a haze of endless stairs and hallways
Adorning baroque bronzes,
gilded angels,
Aphrodites and Salomés

Paul Delvaux, The Great Sirens, 1947

S’il est libre, dites que vous voulez le quarante-quatreC’est la chambre qu’ils appellent iciDe CléopâtreDont les colonnes du lit de style rococoSont des nègres portant des flambeaux
 
If it’s available, say that you want room forty-four
They call it here
the Cleopatra room,
Where ebony bodies holding torches
Cover the rococo style bed columns

Paul Delvaux, Le nu et le mannequin, December 1947

Entre ces esclaves nusTaillés dans l’ébèneQui seront les témoins muetsDe cette scèneTandis que là-haut un miroirNous réfléchitLentement j’enlace Melody
 
Among these naked slaves
carved in wood,
All silent witnesses to the scene,
While above us a mirror
reflects our image,
Slowly I embrace Melody.