Adrienne Rich: The tigers will go on prancing, proud and unafraid

It is with great regret that the Streetlamp learned of the death, earlier this week, of the great American, feminist poet and essayist Adrienne Rich. Rich had her first works published in the early 1950s and, from that point on, continued to grow and develop as a poet. Interestingly, the content of her work became increasingly confrontational throughout the years; exploring such themes as women’s role in society, racism, and the Vietnam war. For many of us on the left, however, she will be most proudly and fondly remembered for her refusal, in 1997, of the National Medal of Arts, stating that;

"I could not accept such an award from President Clinton or this White House because the very meaning of art, as I understand it, is incompatible with the cynical politics of this administration."
Going on to say:
"(Art) means nothing if it simply decorates the dinner table of the power which holds it hostage."

Rich's family have stated that the cause of her death was related to complications of rheumatoid arthritis, from which she had suffered for most of her adult life. Readers unfamiliar with her work can read below one of my own favourite's Aunt Jennifer's Tigers. Written when Rich was in her early twenties, the poem contains, as one of its central themes, a celebration of the ability of a work of art to outlive the person who created it. I need add no more.

Aunt Jeniffer's tigers



Aunt Jennifer's tigers prance across a screen,

Bright topaz denizens of a world of green.

They do not fear the men beneath the tree;

They pace in sleek chivalric certainty.


Aunt Jennifer's finger fluttering through her wool

Find even the ivory needle hard to pull.

The massive weight of Uncle's wedding band

Sits heavily upon Aunt Jennifer's hand.



When Aunt is dead, her terrified hands will lie

Still ringed with ordeals she was mastered by.

The tigers in the panel that she made

Will go on prancing, proud and unafraid.

Here, also, is a musical interpretation of Rich's most celebrated work, Diving Into the Wreck,set to music by ThOmas.W




Griff

Griff says; Do not pass Go; Anne Laplantine.

As Gordon rightly points out in his last post (see 'here'), I've been nagging him to write something about the mercurial talent that is Momus for some time now. The fact that he chose Sunday night to do so has also been serendipitous, as this week I wanted to write something myself about an artist who is a former collaborator of Momus, the equally capricious, Anne Laplantine (pictured).


Anne Laplantine, who in the past has also gone by the names of Michiko Kusaki and Angelika Koehlermann, is an experimental French musician and video artist. She currently lives and works in Paris. Momus fans will remember her for the collaboration Summerisle, which was released in 2004. This garnered mixed reviews at the time and is famously considered a 'difficult' listen due to Laplantine's idiosyncratic musical accompaniment to Momus's restrained, almost whispered, vocals. Overall, the music is an experimental/ambient/folktronica melange. Here's a sample track below coupled with an interesting and successful experimental video collage composed of mainstream pop footage reduced to an abstract movement of shape, light and colour (the video artist's page can be visited 'here').



A free MP3 of the track is available 'here'.

Interestingly, the Summerisle album is a concept piece partly based on Robin Hardy's classic, British, horror movie The Wicker Man, a film that both Gordon and I consider to be amongst the greatest ever made.

After the release of Sumerisle, Laplantine got married, moved to Paris, and quit music to concentrate on playing the ancient, Chinese game of strategy, Go. During this time, Laplantine reportedly played the game obsessively, to the exclusion of almost all else. She only returned to making art three years later in response to the infamous Virginia Tech Massacre in 2007. At that time, Laplantine produced a series of art videos, since removed from Youtube, which explored acts of violence, particularly as they occur in Western society. These videos were often misunderstood and attracted a storm of criticism, with internet trolls having a field day.

Since then, Laplantine has re-surfaced with a new Youtube page where you can see her most recent quirky, experimental, short films. She also has a great, interactive and unpredictable site devoted to her various art forms, which is worth a trawl around (see 'here'). More recently, Laplantine has taken to releasing her latest experimental, electronic compositions on soundcloud. All of this work can be freely downloaded, but will only appeal to the more musically adventurous amongst you. Here's a sample track:

Ah by anne laplantine


As you will learn, once you become familiar with her work, Laplantine's music is not bound by convention. Instead, she allows herself free rein to create her delicate and fragile sound-forms in an organic fashion. To finish, I'm embedding another piece of video art, which I think really recognises this aspect of her work and creates a charming visual that combines very succesfully with the music.
Enjoy!




Griff
xx

~Tales Of The Momii~#1: The Man On Your Street

Ever since we first started this Blog, Griff has been pestering me to write an article on Momus, almost purely because he knows that Momus stands up there next to Morrissey in my echelon of musical heroes. And that has been the problem in why I've resisted in writing about him for so long. I could never encapsulate what Momus's songs and records have meant over this past (almost) 30 years any more than I could try to explain what Morrissey has meant in my life in a single Blog entry.
BUT.....I did feel that I would have to write something, so what I'm going to do (or attempt to do) is tackle each album that Momus has released, in some sort of chronological pattern. This may become quite a hefty undertaking, and it may become difficult once Momus abandons the formulaic fashion of releasing proper records through a record label, but I may as well give it a go.
It may not be entirely accurate, and some of my interpretations of his songs and lyrics may be vastly incorrect, but that's just it....they're MY interpretations.

So let's start at the beginning, way back before he even was Momus....back when he was Nick Currie of The Happy Family.....
It's March 1982, and 4AD Records have just released the 'Puritans' EP by The Happy Family. This band are comprised of former members of Postcard legends Josef K, who have decided to back Paisley born, Edinburgh-based, literature student Nicholas Currie, who had sent them his lyrics.
The lyrics are deft, intelligent and have a barely-suppressed, delicate fury, borne from Nick's current 'angry young man' status. In future sleeve notes for the re-issues, Nick puts forward the theory that since they scrapped National Service in the UK, the angry young men brigade form gangs instead, and some of those gangs become bands. And in the late 70s/early 80s there was a lot of anger channelled through music.
Lyrically, the three tracks on Puritans; the title track, Innermost Thoughts and The Mistake, bristle with an anti-Calvinistic rancour and a political point of view developed and reflected through the prism of Theodor Adorno's 'Minima Moralia', Nick's most studied reading matter of the time.
Over a staccato rhythm, guitars jangle and chime, more like freshly sharpened knives than a tambourine, and Nick delivers a vocal not unlike Edwyn Collins, of those other Postcard legends, Orange Juice.
"Oh, take these Puritans away!"
It's a perfect slice of knowing, arch post-Punk/Pop, completely of it's time, yet carbon dated due to it's unsparing production. Harsh, yet oddly endearing!


But if Puritans was a quirky, of-it's-time, Indie-pop song, it gave no clues as to the scale and intellectual ferocity of The Happy Family's next release; the album 'The Man On Your Street', released in November of 1982.
The subtitle strap-line of the album should have been a warning; "Songs From The Career Of Dictator Hall: Witnessed And Presented By The Happy Family!". Yes, for their first full length LP The Happy Family delivered a concept album based on the fictional life of a European Fascist dictator known as President Hall.
The album's dramatis peronae comprises four main characters; President Hall; his unknowing nemesis, an Evangelical detergent salesman; Samuel, the salesman's son; and Maria, the daughter of the President.

Nick Currie claims in the sleeve notes of the reissue that his own inner turmoil, at what was a turbulent time in his personal life, led to the creation of an unlovable recording. The album's opaque, obtuse lyrical concerns; the way the listener is dropped into the middle of situations involving characters who have not been properly fleshed out yet; is reminiscent of films of Renoir, Antonioni or Fassbinder, or the books of Thomas Pynchon or Bret Easton Ellis. The listener has to piece together the clues often buried deep and cloaked in political or psychological theories they have no learning in. It was deliberately inpenetrable, Nick casting himself as a hybrid of Mark E Smith and Kasper Hauser.

The music too, offers little relief to the already brain-hurting perplexity of the listening experience. There are few obvious reference points for the listener to identify with. The music shifts from baroque chamber-pop to a forthright Post-Punk jarring, the occasional moments of fluidity often torn asunder by well-executed time signature shifts. The voice has not yet become that which is so beloved of his listeners, and still sounds too mimicking of other contemporary vocalists of that time. All of this leads to an album that could hardly be filed under 'Easy Listening'. I have to confess that of all Nick Currie's records, this is the one I have listened to least. It can't simply be put on as background music, nor can it just be played for a little soothing balm at the end of the working day. It's an album that you have to sit down and tackle in one sitting. Even then, only some of the album's narrative themes become obvious; Hall achieved his wealth and power thanks to a lottery win (though this was a full 12 years before the UK National Lottery would begin); like Bergman's The Silence, all the action takes place in an unnamed European city at a time of war; Maria, daughter of President Hall will fall in love with Samuel, the salesman's son and they will join the Red Brigade to overthrow the dictator; the catalyst for the revolution will take place during March in the city of Turin....the album ends with the words, "March in Turin// Where lovers can win// March in Turin// Only in strange times and places....// Now's our chance// Now!".


Okay, so it's hardly 'Club Tropicana'....but that's the point! In 1982 Nick Currie was an angry young man in a five man army, his music his rifle, his words his bullets. But his first offensive had not quite had the desired effect he had hoped for. Only by venturing out on his own, donning the garb of Momus, the Greek god of Mockery, and creating one of the most dazzling bodies of work in the left-field Pop would he see his planet-sized imagination bear fruit.

The Man On Your Street is not an album I could recommend to everyone, it's a complex enigma that requires both patience and a detective's willingness to investigate; like the books of James Joyce, or the films of Dreyer, you have to WANT to listen to it.

But it's a rewarding challenge, and the first footsteps of a Pop genius.

Take revenge!

~Gordon~

If you do WANT to listen to album(along with the Puritans EP), you can download it here
(This file does not belong to the ~Streetlamp~. If anyone is unhappy about us posting it, we can remove it from our page, but we cannot remove it from the Internet)

Griff says: What big ears you have - Stereowoolf

I've just got a short blog for you tonight and one tinged with a certain amount of anguish. You see, the song I'm bringing you is the very last offering from short-lived, German riot grrrl band Stereowoolf. As you know, the Streetlamp team love our European feminist punk (see 'here' and 'here') and so, while we're happy to put you in touch with Stereowoolf's parting gift, we're also a little sad that we'll hear nothing more from them.
The song itself is the strangely titled 'When I Was A Baby Feminist' and it is a tight slab of guitar rock with a quirky, meandering, story lyric delivered in distinctively charming, central-European-accented English. You'll love it, and what's more it can be downloaded for free on bandcamp and soundcloud.

Stereowoolf - When I was a Baby Feminist (free download) by stereowoolf


Griff
xx