Saturday, July 7, 2018

Roxy Music: Editions Of You

Roxy Music: Editions of You

I believe that Roxy Music are under-reported as an attraction, under-attributed as a musical influence, and under-credited as cultural icons. They were a great act, packed with talent and energy. They brought a freshness to the “rock band” presentation both aurally and visually, and they did it after a decade that was rich in such freshness. So yeah, I really like Roxy Music. No surprise there! Why wouldn't I?

They still get good notices for their sound, and their looks, and their snark, and their arty, almost fashion-world point of view. I still listen to them, though, and I am often struck by the lyrics. The lyrics are very entertaining, although they do not get a lot of attention.

Take “Editions of You,” for instance.

It starts out as a fairly conventional ode to lost love. Missing you, hoping to find someone like you, etc. And then at the end, in the manner of great lyrics, there is a completely unrelated, gratuitous lesson tacked on. As follows:

Love me; leave me; do what you will,

Who knows what tomorrow may bring?

Learn from your mistakes is my only advice,

And stay cool, it's still the main rule,

Don't play yourself for a fool!

Too much cheesecake too soon!

Old money better than new,

No mention in the latest Tribune,

And don't let this happen to you.

Of a quiet Tuesday evening, there are worse ways to spend an hour than listening to old Roxy Music songs on YouTube. I once owned a great deal of their output, including many solo projects, but that is all lost to me now. Not as though they were all lost in a fire, nothing so permanent, no, my loss is more ambiguous, more like having forgotten the secret word that rolls away the giant stone that blocks the entrance to the treasure cave. YouTube is fine for now, though. I'm not a sound-quality purist.

I hope that you find this information useful, and congratulations if you do.

Friday, July 6, 2018

The Real Thing....Tina Britt

This is on my list of all-timers. It's part of the Sue umbrella-group of labels in the early-mid-1950s. 

I think that it's perfect. I love the life in it; I love the production; I love the performance; I love the loping, driving beat; I love the enthusiasm. 

Sometimes I wonder if it's just geezermania, or if music was actually better back in those days. Is it just a bunch of oldsters reminiscing? Or was this music drenched in a wild abundance of sincerity, talent, and enthusiasm that just can't be reproduced these days? 

I'm going to leave that one hanging. 

Tuesday, July 3, 2018

The Avana Hotel on Bang Na Trat

Any reporter worth his salt would have photographs to go along with this post. And then there are reporters like me.

Bang Na Trat is a well-traveled thoroughfare in the Bang Na District of Bangkok. No, not Bangkok, it's actually in Samut Prakan, the neighboring province to the south of BKK. A few decades ago you had to leave Bangkok and go for a while over minor roads before you got to Samut Prakan, which was an agricultural area at the time. Now the border is invisible, and the Bang Na area is being built up in spectacular fashion. Samut Prakan is now the freight container capitol of the Bangkok Metro Area. There are millions of the things stacked all over. The Sky Train already goes there, and more lines are planned. It's all pretty cosmopolitan by now.

The Avana Hotel tells an interesting story, a story with a distinctly mixed message. It's a good sized place, with nice signage, and it's been there for a long time. I have no photos to display because I've only ever laid eyes on it out of moving taxi cabs, and it is not well placed for efficient mobile photography. I've ridden by frequently though, so I've seen it very often, at different times of day, and in different lighting. The signs haven't changed. The hotel is set back about twenty meters from the street, on a street that turns at an oblique angle, and there are signs on the top of the building and at the end of the small street where you would turn in to go to the hotel.

The narrow side of the building is best visible from the main street. There are two messages at the top of the building, both reading vertically from top to down, one on the left side and the other on the right. The left side says, “Avana Hotel,” and the message on the right side is, “Jesus Loves You.” Those are large, permanently affixed, well lit signs. It's unambiguous; the hotel's owners must be Christians. That's unusual in Thailand, but not unheard of. About 2% of the population report as Christians.

The Twilight Zone music starts to play when you see the giant neon sign at the front of the access street. It's lit up like an arcade sign, on an arch that goes from one side to the other. Along the top it says, in very gay colors, Avana Hotel. Below that, in lettering of the same size and the same vivid colors, it says, “Massage 24 Hours.”

Thailand is full of massage places, and they come in a full range of the services provided. All of the massage places have signs that provide all of the information that any initiate will need to understand what kind of place it is. I'm going to leave you hanging here, rather than spell it out for you, but take my word for it, “Massage 24 Hours,” displayed so prominently, is a clear description of the place. They are serious about it. They want to improve your circulation in the worst way.

And some of the proceeds go to Mr. Jesus! How great is that? Everything in Thailand is Thai style, and that is really one of the best things about the country. Don't be so serious, let's have some fun, life is better if everyone is comfortable. Why would Mr. Jesus object if you wanted to relax with a special massage? Jesus loves you! He wants you to be happy! For Thais, there is zero tension in this mixed message. It's all about the love.

And the money, of course. I've been seeing the Avana Hotel and its lovely signage for ten years now, so it's a going concern. I wish them well. They are providing several valuable services to a grateful community.

The Secret to Success in the World of Fine Art

It's not that hard. There's a formula. There's money in it. You should try it!

Before my verbosity overtakes me, I should reduce the requirements to a list:

  1. Use noble materials;
  2. Observe the rules of academic technique;
  3. Come to the enterprise with a natural sociability (Your actual personality may be dark or light, but you must be under tight emotional control at all times and able to carefully monitor the content of your speech and the expression on your face. People are taking pictures! Also control your body-language.);
  4. Live in a big city, and ruthlessly meet and schmooz all of the important people in the local art community. Keep files; memorize them. Patrons of the arts; university professors in art related disciplines; gallery owners; society matrons; writers; collectors; critics; Chamber of Commerce types; journalists; anyone who is wealthy, or whose family was once wealthy; Masons; politicians; other artists; craftsmen; retailers; everybody;
  5. You must have a style that is immediately recognizable. There must be a narrative element, but too much narrative is not ideal. Just a hint of what may be happening in the shadow world of your art, whether it is a painting or a sculpture or what have you. Is that diagonal a stairway? Is that rectangle a window? Is that grass? Is that a cow? Leave a lot of mystery in it. All colors must be dark, but not muddy. Nothing is merely “brown,” or “gray.” But the colors must be very high on the hue and value charts. High-yellow, high-blue, high-red. So dark that they carry only a hint of their actual identity, but real colors just the same. There are formulas for such things. Those are among your “academic techniques”;
  6. Your art must be BIG. People like big things, and they will pay more for big things. A couple of meters by a few meters, anyway;
  7. Have no noticeable taste in art yourself. Speak of other artists work only in the most general terms. Change the subject. Tell personal anecdotes. Never let anyone pin you down about anything.

None of this will be easy, but with a detailed and closely observed plan based upon the above rules you could potentially earn enough money to actually be secure in this crazy new world of ours. As of 2018 I put the buy-in at about fifteen to twenty million dollars of bank, plus a couple of properties in your own name. A really hip studio with a cool address and a gourmet kitchen is a must, but you don't have to live there. Have a family if you must, but ensure that they will all join you in adherence to the plan.

At all costs, you must avoid following your personal interest in the art that you practice. I recently pointed out on this blog that Van Gogh painted for the sheer pleasure of it. He followed his vision, and where did it get him? He didn’t make a nickel on his art. It's the age old story.

During the 1960s we were all music fans and there was a lot of great music around. Most of my friends were quick to name the “best” guitar players, or even to identify the single greatest guitar player of them all. Those were heated debates. I would patiently point out to them that almost certainly the best guitar players were guys that we had never heard of, guys that perhaps no one had ever heard of. Guys that just practiced alone in their parents garages. One night I was driving a cab in Manhattan and listening to WWRL on a small radio that was lying on the seat next to me. They played a song that I had never heard before, and never heard again. I didn't catch the artists name. The guitarist on the cut was, forgive me for using a much overused word, amazing. He was like some guitar equivalent of Art Tatum on the piano. Put him on stage with any of the famous names and he would cut them to ribbons. It was like a science fiction blues record. It was, I think, a regional record being played in New York only because the disk jockey liked it. I never heard that guitarist again. The great unknowns are out there.

In the music world it takes much more than talent to make a living. It takes luck, and interpersonal skills, and good looks, and brains, and connections. The fine art world follows that same pattern. The financially successful fine artists whose names we know have all followed the rules outlined above. So, in fact, had all of the famously great guitarists of the 1960s. Following your dream is the death of making a living.

I visited a law client at his home one time (it was on my way; I saved him a trip to my office). He lived with his mother, who was a clinically observed lunatic who also happened to be a classically trained painter. She had been trained at a university in South America. The apartment was filled with her paintings, which were all quite spectacular, if a bit odd. The walls were full of them, and they were stacked everywhere. Every one of them had a narrative, there wasn’t an abstract painting in the bunch, or even an impressionist. Every painting was done in real oil paints on properly stretched canvases. My undergraduate degree is in Art History, and to my eyes these paintings were museum quality, worthy of cataloging and further study. She favored reds, and her subject matter may have been religious or allegorical, the iconography was obscure. She was an accurate draftsman though, and every person or object was perfectly modeled. All perspectives were rendered with academic precision. I almost asked to buy several, but I didn't want to intrude on the woman's lunatic solitude. She didn’t make a nickel on those paintings; she was further out of the circle than poor Vincent. I may be the only non-relative who ever saw those paintings. The dust-bins of the world are full of lost art. Some people make the art just to keep busy.

But this plan that I propose, I have seen it work. I have known a successful artist or two well enough to get invited to their studios. They were successful, and my observation of their strategies gave me the basis for this plan. I've also known a lot of craftsmen, many unsuccessful artists, and many members of the groups listed as “important people in the local art community.” I have not pulled this plan out of the air; it is based on observation.

Let's see, what needs clarification?

By noble materials I mean media that will withstand the ravages of time without quickly fading or losing their character color-wise. Don't be fooling around with tempera or acrylics. Nothing on paper, you could hardly sell it unless you were already very famous and rich. No pastels or chalk, they'll look different tomorrow than they do today. Stick with real oil-based paints, and apply them to properly prepared and stretched canvases. If you are working at the proper scale, which is to say something like four by seven meters, you may need help with the preparation of the canvases.

As you are beginning to accumulate some work product, you must begin a social whirl that will last you for the rest of your life. You will be out and about, meeting people and talking about the art business, at least three to five evenings every week. Here you will begin working on your lists and your files. You must remember everything about everyone that you meet, so that when you see them again, you can immediately say, “hello, Michael! How did that trip to Florence work out?” Or, “Joyce! How nice to see you again! How is that manuscript going? I'm looking forward to reading it!” You must have eyes and ears everywhere. If some important art professor's child suffers an unanticipated death, you must appear unbidden at the funeral and be appropriately subdued. Things like that are critically important.

Much more important, in fact, than the artistic quality of your output. That must only be consistent, and marketable.

Good luck! And look for the bright side. Art is much more susceptible to this scientific approach than music is. Music is the toughest gig in the show business. Art is a piece of cake compared to music.

Monday, July 2, 2018

The Mummies - Zip A Dee Doo Dah

I'm just playing an old mix CD that I found in a box that has managed to stay with me through my various exiles, and this song came on. I still have a weakness for "talent optional" bands like the Mummies, or Tav Falco, or the early Shonen Knife (or early Small Faces!). There's a lot to be said for sincerity, enthusiasm, and just pure fun. 

Saturday, June 30, 2018

Oppression Obsession

This is, to me, Tom Walker's benchmark bit for the Jonathan Pie character. Just fucking amazing. 

And it is also the second time that have ever heard the noun, "blancmange," ever. It's a French word, and a French dessert, I suppose, but both incidents of the word have come from British comedians. The first was in an early Monty Python bit that I saw in 1974 on PBS. That bit was hysterical and you could tell from context what a blancmange was, which was very helpful, I can tell you. 

This fellow is really, really good. 

Friday, June 29, 2018

More Fascinating Thai Architecture

For no particular purpose at all, here is a photo of another fascinating example of Thai architecture here in Bangkok. This photo was taken from a moving taxi in the Cheng Watthana district. I was going to visit the immigration office for some reason. I try to forget those details almost as they happen.

I think that the building is the headquarters of some Thai corporation, or more likely a Thai Public Company Limited. Those are very popular these days.