It's A Man Ray Kind Of Sky: The Sleeping Cinema

I fell asleep and read just about every paragraph
Just when you thought it was safe to return to Philistinism, the ~Streetlamp~ found themselves once again in the East End of Glasgow, having been invited to the latest event at the Pipe Factory....the Sleeping Cinema. This was a concept created by Alex Storey Gordon who we had met there the previous Saturday. The idea is to project the early cinematic works of the Surrealists up on to the ceiling whilst the audience lies on mattresses or in sleeping bags below. The idea being that audience will fall asleep, their heads scrambled by the avant garde images playing above them, and will be unable to tell where the movies end and the dreams begin.....

Read the scene where gravity is pulling me around
So we arrived in Glasgow on a rather pleasant Spring evening, the sky a whisky golden colour, and the usually bustling Barras area surprisingly quiet. As we made our way to the Pipe Factory, it struck us how odd the Barras looks on a quiet Tuesday evening as opposed to a frantic Saturday afternoon where the place is overflowing with street traders, winos and smack dealers. It was a totally different place. !esac ni tsuj arépO'l ed emôtnaF eL s'xuoreL notsaG fo ypoc debmuht llew sih gnola thguorb dah dnomyaR
Once again it was Alex who welcomed us in and showed us up to the top floor of the building where there were already some people lying on the floor, some entrenched in huge sleeping bags.
As we took our places, lying supine on the mats under the screen, the latest run of films was just starting....

Peel back the mountains, peel back the sky

The first film shown was 'L'Étoile de Mer', Man Ray's 1928 experimental work on which every shot is some way textured; either by being filmed off the surface of a mirror, through frosted glass, or simply out of focus. The swirling collage of images is probably the closest any of the films we saw tonight came to capturing the essence of a dream. Both Griff and Ray, who are usually quite resistant to the charms of Surrealist cinema, claimed this to be the most beautiful of the films we saw tonight.
Stomp gravity into the floor
The air within the building was surprisingly muggy, and I've no idea what Surrealism smells like but I'm guessing it may have the aroma of Sugar Puffs. Or it certainly did there, thanks to the two girls behind us!
It's a Man Ray kind of sky
Man Ray, originally a Dada-ist photographer, whose glorious monochrome images of women's faces, human bodies from strange angles, and industrial skylines are some of the most beautiful examples of Dada-ism, made only a handful of movies, but they remain the bedrock of the Surrealist film movement.
You can view the entire movie ʍolǝq...

Let me show you what I can do with it

The next film in the sequence was 'La Coquille et Le Clergyman', another film from 1928, this one directed by Germaine Dulac. The film is controversial in many ways. Firstly, it was denounced as not a Surrealist film at all, but one inspired by the German Expressionist movement. I feel personally however, that this is quite wrong....the bizarre juxtapositioning of images, the overt eroticism, and the ridiculing of the church and religion has far more to do with Surrealism than Expressionism.
Time and distance are out of place here
The second contentious point is probably the one it is most remembered for, and a perfect example of how the British Film rosneC are completely worthless, and utterly redundant! When the film was presented to the board of srosnec they immediately banned the film purely on the grounds that, and I quote "the film is apparently meaningless but if there is a meaning, it is doubtless objectionable". Yep, there you have it....because they didn't understand it, they felt it's message HAD to be offensive! That's British Film pihsrosnec for you! 
Step up, step up, step up the sky is open-armed
The film itself is a series of deranged hallucinations experienced by a Priest who has developed an infatuation with a woman who he is marrying to an army general. The mix of the clergyman's creepy behaviour and odd movements, coupled with the sinister, stoic deadpan General, and the dark-eyed eroticism of the woman prove a heady hallucinatory vibe that was matched perfectly by the bizarre circumstances we found ourselves in.
Again, you can view the film ʍolǝq...

When the light is mine, I felt gravity pull

It should be pointed out here that there was an air of contrariness about this whole venture; the idea of going to see films purely on the very real chance you may fall asleep seems very odd, as does the fact that Alex chose NOT to show the Grandaddy of all Surrealist films, 'Un Chien Andalou'. Surely this akin to having a night of Gangster films and not showing The Godfather! Maybe it was felt that 'Un Chien Andalou' would be too much of a distraction from the rest of the films, but there was no complaints when the next movie started, for yes, it was time for the yrelbbiw dnatstah that is 'L'Age D'Or'....
Holding my head straight (looking down)
This madcap collaboration between Luis Bunuel and Salvador Dali plays out like one huge Monty Python sketch....or rather Monty Python is L'Age D'Or stretched over four series. Again, the overall tone of the film is anti-religious, anti-authoritarian, and even anti-Cinematic as it steamrollers over every movie cliche of that time.
In his introduction to the Moviedrome showing of the film 'Performance', Alex Cox describes James Fox's character, after he has slicked his hair back with red paint, as the first Punk Rock movie star since Gaston Modot. And I'm guessing it's Modot's performance in this film that he was referencing. Surly, rude, truculent and prone to outbursts of violence, Modot also appears to have a cockatoo hairstyle in one scene after he's been thrown in the mud.
Completely bizarre in every way, L'Age D'Or features burning Christmas trees, decomposing bishops, cattle in the bedroom, priests and giraffes being hurled out of windows, a couple's constant attempts at sex being thwarted, a Christ figure losing his beard, a young boy shot by his adoring father, and a rat being killed by a scorpion.
It was during this film that I first noticed that Alex had removed all the subtitles from the prints. I guess this was so that the viewer doesn't become too involved with any narrative (fat chance!!), and that the viewer focuses only on the image. It's safe to say that subtitles aren't required for L'Age D'Or though, especially as this was about the 40th time I had seen it.
If you have never seen it before, I urge you to check it out, either by getting the DVD and watching it supine on your back....or on the viewer ʍolǝq....

This is the easiest task I've ever had to do
Way back around 1989, when I first got the book Incredibly Strange Films, I was fixated by the list of 'must see' films that the authors had compiled at the back of the book. I made a point of trying to see every film on the list. There, in amongst all the exploitation, horror and general weirdness, was a film called 'Land Without Bread'. I tried in vain to see this particular film but to no avail.
So, when the next film began spooling last night, and the opening card read 'Terre Sans Pain', I immediately became excited as I knew straight away that this was indeed 'Land Without Bread'. However, my enthusiasm was tempered slightly by the fact there were, as I pointed out earlier, no subtitles. The good thing, however, was that this meant you had to concentrate on the images playing out.
Reason had harnessed the tame
The film, again by Luis Bunuel, is more of a Surrealist documentary than a movie, and it deals with life in remote and desolate part of Spain, where the industrial revolution doesn't appear to have reached, and the people seem to live in a mix of poverty, desperation, and a basic sense of getting on with life. The faces are as craggy, pained and remote as the landscape in which they dwell. This is life at it's hardest and the haunted visages looking out at us seem almost to be from another world....or a nightmare.
Holding the sky in their arms
It was at this point that I realised that Griff had actually fallen asleep, as had a couple of other people in the room judging by the breathing patterns. Well, I guess that was the whole point of the artistic exercise. Ray later claimed that he found himself zoning in and out of the films, again exactly what was the desired effect. Unfortunately, thanks to my unusual body-clock which prevents me from feeling sleepy until 1:30am, I watched the whole shebang wide awake and worrying that Griff and Ray weren't enjoying the experience....they not being as fanatical about Surrealist films as I am.
Once again, you can catch the whole film ǝɹǝɥ ...

When 'Terre Sans Pain' finished, Ray and I decided it was getting a bit late and we had to drive all the way back to Stirling. So I thumped the mat Griff was sound asleep on and he practically exploded awake! As we made our goodbyes, Alex thanked us for coming and seemed pleased that we had really bought into the whole experience. He still had a few films to run, including the Cocteau trilogy 'The Blood Of A Poet', 'Orpheus' and 'The Testament Of Orpheus'. As we walked back to our cars, my worries that Griff and Ray hadn't enjoyed it proved redundant as they extolled the virtues of both the films and the whole event.
I think it's safe to say this was another success.
Me....I just needed a little shut-eye!

Gravity pulls me down
  
~Gordon~

  
Lyrics by Michael Stipe

Birthday Bashing: A Week Of Culture

As Griff explained in his Blog last Saturday, we recently celebrated the ~Streetlamp~'s second birthday/anniversary, and so all three of set about marking this event by indulging in a plethora of various art, music and cultural experiences.
Here's a more in-depth look at how we got on, who we met, and what we did....

We kicked things off in the West End of Glasgow(the Govan end) with a visit to Bellahouston Park. Our intention was to see a film work by the artist Henry Combes called "I Am The Architect, This Is Not Happening, This Is Unacceptable". However, as we approached the building it was to be shown in, the film-maker's secretary rushed out of a nearby car to tell us that the event had been postponed due to fault with the sound system. Although this was slightly disappointing, on the upside we did bump into our female doppelgangers....we're guessing that somewhere out there a femme-centric version of the ~Streetlamp~ is being run by three women!
We had a quick scout around the park; having a look round the gardens and checking out the last Art Deco building left from the Empire Exhibition of 1938.

Then it was off to the East End....

Walking past a life-style inflatable Stonehenge (no, really!!) we found ourselves right slap-bang in the very heart of the Barras where there exists one of the coolest art centres in Scotland....The Pipe Factory. You have to go searching for this place amongst the back streets of one of Glasgow's roughest areas. The place was locked up when we got there, but after persistently banging on the door and ringing the bell, we were greeted by the cheery, amiable presence of Alex Storey Gordon. Alex is the co-creator of the art installation that was taking place that afternoon; an event called Projector Director which he co-authored with his partner Kari Robertson. This was a collection of images displayed by old (and sometimes broken) slide projectors which allow the viewer to deconstruct the projected image, or to reduce a powerful image such as arch Capitalist Milton Friedman into a series of almost comical snapshots, thus rendering such a hate figure in a humorous light.

Alex took time to chat with us and to explain his work in some detail, something which goes against the more po-faced attitudes of some artists. We were equally impressed by the strange roughshod nature of the setting....here in the depths of Glasgow's East End, we were within a wrecked old building in which the sunlight shone through cracks in the brickwork casting an odd, fractured light throughout. One imagines that as the light changes outside, the ambiance of the art changes inside!

After lunch in the 13th Note (which Griff has already described as 'my dream pub') we headed up to Hillhead, to the University end of Glasgow. Here amongst some of the most spectacular architecture in all of Glasgow, we decide to visit the Hunterian Museum. Amidst the sarcophaguses(sarcophagi??) and body-parts-in-formaldehyde came the unusual occurrence of a Jazz quintet fronted by a gentleman with an impenetrable accent performing an accompaniment to an exhibition detailing a piece of wood that 'may' have come from the tree under which David Livingstone's heart was buried!! Confused? We certainly were!
Walking around the splendid grounds and the incredible buildings that make up Glasgow University, I felt pangs of sadness that I hadn't stuck in more at school and hadn't waylaid an education for the sake of Pop Music....

So that was Saturday!
On the Monday, Ray and I want to the Bo'ness Hippodrome to take in a rare showing of Otto Preminger's Noir whodunnit 'Laura'. Despite plot holes you could drive a bus through, and the fact that two of the main characters were inexplicably played as being a little light on their loafers, this was a superb, stylish, dreamlike thriller that, as someone in the crowd remarked at lights up, "they don't make  like that anymore".
Unfortunately Griff couldn't make it to this event which was a pity as it starred his favourite actress (and four tissue fantasy) Gene Tierney.

And so to Wednesday....
Despite almost being May, it was a cold and wet afternoon as we headed back into the heart of Glasgow. The rain was like sheets of icy razors and the perpetual grey of the skyline created a perturbing backdrop as we drove deep into the belly of the beast. Our search was for the SW3G art workshops, hidden away in the kind of gloomy backstreets you'd expect to see Jack Nance walking through, on his way back to feed 'the baby'.
Parking under an archway over which traffic rumbled ominously we found ourselves inside the cold, airy workshops. In the main part of the building was an installation by the artists Max Prus, José Eduardo Yaque Llorente & Diego Chamy.
After viewing this we headed upstairs to catch some of the noise-music performance by Australian composer/artist Marco Fusinato. Like being hit by a force of nature, it was almost impossible to believe that this wall of cacophony was being created by one man with a guitar and an effects box. Coming across like Hijokaidan without the ear-shredding dentist drill treble; Einsturzende Neubauten without the industrial machinery; or Boyd Rice/NON without the offensive political stance, this was quite something to behold. Kudos must be given to the young Buddhist who was using the noise to meditate to, and to the sound engineer who had been there for four hours by the time we arrived.

Going further upstairs we stumbled upon the beautiful bird/rodent hybrid creations of Jamie Fitzpatrick. Jamie was there and allowed us to film and photograph his incredible work, whilst telling us how he mixed sculpture, roadkill and taxidermy to create his artistry. I think it was safe to say this was one of the highlights of our week.

Heading out of the main building and over to one of the adjoining studios, we caught a glimpse of '#Unravel', a musical installation collaboration between Aidan Moffatt of Arab Strap, and the Edinburgh experimental art/Pop music collective FOUND. Using ten 7" vinyl singles, the viewer/listener participates in unravelling the Narrator's story which, depending on which records you choose and how they in turn will prompt different music, could play out in over 160 variations. We won't spoil any of the story or how the project works, we'll just advise you to check it out. It runs until the 7th of May.

Heading across the M8, we decided to drop into the Scotland Street School Museum where there was an exhibition of Young Scottish Socialism through the 20th Century. We were quite surprised to learn that for most of the last century there had been Socialist Sunday Schools where the teachings of Christ were imparted in a Marxist/Anarchist way, rather than that of any religious denomination. It's pretty eye-opening stuff to see just how deep the Socialist ideology ran through Glasgow at the time of the two World Wars and up as far the early 70s, and it also saddened us that this pure Socialist view is no longer taken by the Labour Party whom we expected to carry it forward. I think the word 'Judas' may have been said a few times that afternoon. Ironically. Or not, as the case may be.

The school (now a museum) itself is quite a thing of beauty to behold, and it's never-to-be-seen-again architecture coupled with its history of Scottish school days makes it a fantastic place to visit.

Once school was out, we headed over to the East End of Glasgow where we we visited the rather wonderful Monorail Music. A shoe-in for best Record Shop in Glasgow, the shop is run by Scottish music legend Stephen Pastel, and Mr Pastel himself was behind the counter upon our visit. I should point out that Monorail is much more than a record shop; it is also a cafe with a selection of vegan and vegetarian foods, and there is also an art and printing studio within. There was a an exhibition of fake 12" record sleeves by the Obstacle Group arts project which gave us some of the best laughs of the day. The project is called Record Store and again runs until the 7th of May.
The shop itself was recovering from the previous Saturday's Record Store Day(at which Edwyn Collins had played a live set), so there were many vinyl rarities and bargains on offer. We were especially smitten by the lo-fi dreampop of Glasgow's own Golden Grrrls whose superb 'New Pop' is an early contender for my song of the year.

And there was also the dreamy, sun dappled music of Lightships whose music and video for their song 'Sweetness In Her Spark' captures perfectly everything I've tried to elucidate about love and the way it affects the light and the skyscape when your heart is full to bursting. The way a girl's silhouette or a streetlamp's glow against a bruised Summer sky can capture a moment that makes your heart beat in a different rhythm. Lightships are the new musical project of Teenage Fanclub's Gerard Love, but for us this is better than any of his principal band's oeuvre....

After all this art, we decided on a long dinner to chill out. This comprised of yet another visit to our favourite haunt, the 13th Note, where we enjoyed three veggie burgers, spicy fries, onion rings and a bowl of olives (bet you're glad you weren't in the car with us afterwards), all washed down with some staggeringly (and unexpectedly) expensive Chardonnay.
Then it was time to head round to the Britania Panopticon Music Hall, located up some back street in the Trongate area.

Built in 1857, it is Britain's oldest standing music hall, and it is where Stan Laurel made his stage debut in 1906. And that is part of the reason we were there....the Laurel & Hardy society, The Sons Of The Desert were using the theatre to show some of Stan and Ollie's best work. It was the first time many of us had ever seen Laurel & Hardy with an audience, and it was safe to say that the duo had lost none of their magic.

The theatre itself, despite being cold and draughty, is a thing of great beauty to behold, and it literally was like stepping back in time. The staff were dressed in appropriate garb of the times, and the place is set to hold many more events based on recreating the past. The theatre relies on charitable support to maintain its upkeep, so we urge you, if you can, to check the place out if you have the opportunity.

So that was our birthday week of culture. Beautiful, surreal, edgy, politically fervent, and at times dreamlike (and that's just us three), this was quite some week. We must do it again some day.
Roll on next year!!

~Gordon~