Last night, I attended the Royal Albert Hall to see Bob Dylan. Of all the singer/songwriters I admire, I have seen him the most often and without a doubt, predictability is something that he cannot be accused of.
Upon arrival in the auditorium, the usher was clearly anxious to reinforce the fact that cameras were not permitted. He added that this would be a strictly enforced policy even before the concert started and sure enough, it was. Within seconds of a couple of gentlemen sitting down, they were involved in a dialogue with the same usher over their usage of a camera. Now, the phenomenon of not taking photos and videos at Dylan gigs is not a recent occurrence. Having said that, looking at the lighting setup last night, if you could get a decent photo or video in those conditions, you would have to be a professional photographer. The lighting seemed to be generated by what looked like large Anglepoise lamps and a couple of low level stage lights. Occasionally, more extravagant lighting effects were generated but this seemed to be the result of back projection. The old faithful 'eye' symbol that Dylan has been using for many years as a back projection was apparent for the majority of the gig.
So why would Dylan and by extension, many other artists not want their images captured for public perusal (The Eagles are apparently even worse)? In defence of artists, there must be nothing more disconcerting than the flash of a camera (I remember getting Anna Friel's autograph outside the stage door where she was performing 'Breakfast at Tiffany's' and as she came out the press etc literally overwhelmed her with their cameras, she seemed positively happy to simply sign an autograph for me). Cameras are intrusive. They block the sight lines of other audience members and disrupt the performers. Bob Dylan is 72. His stage performance has changed significantly over the years. He rarely plays guitar and now regularly sits at a keyboard. Having said that, from a performance perspective, his occasional sojourns to centre stage armed simply with a harmonica is exciting to behold. He has the stance of a fighter (he boxes) and as he ages, he actually seems younger and happier. He does not like his photo taken. I like to think this has as much to do with his need to be remembered in the moment.
In terms of my concert experience last night, it was the first time that I have attended a Dylan performance with an interval but I guess, it is physically demanding pushing yourself non-stop year in year out. Also the gig started at just after 7.30 pm, so thus it was over by 10 pm. I respect the rationale behind an early start time. Maybe, it is also accommodating for the audience who are ageing with Dylan? I have been a fan for twenty one plus years. I am nearly forty. I heard his music for the first time in 1992. It's an odd and uniquely thrilling sensation to share the lives of people you admire over time. You are reminded of your own mortality but not in a negative way. The changes in your mental and spiritual outlook influences how you regard the work produced by the artists that guide you through life.
By admiring your heroes, you learn to accept yourself. After all, they reflect you and your needs. You don't want to be them, you want to understand them and learn from them. It's fascinating to realise that they need you as much as you need them. Audiences of all artists and mediums are essential ingredients in the creative process.
So what did I learn last night? I learnt that Dylan's current set list is more rigid than in previous years with only the odd variation in song from night to night, probably to stop him from getting bored. I guess this gives him the opportunity to experiment with the songs' arrangements. 'Tangled Up In Blue' and 'Simple Twist Of Fate' were both subject to lyric variations. Dylan is one of only a handful of artists who toys with his songs. He seems to see them as pliable and indeed, it does suggest quite rightly that songs and indeed, any creative work should not be viewed as finished. Interpretation cannot be predetermined. The meaning of one song can change from person to person and indeed, the songwriter probably feels differently about his creations as the years go on. Dylan focused his set list on his current album 'Tempest' and clearly he enjoys performing songs from his more recent albums. He only played about a handful of songs from his 60s and 70s output. I was overwhelmed as ever by 'All Along The Watchtower', which remains the most astonishing song owing to its seeming simplicity yet complexity in live performance. It is melodically and lyrically a masterpiece and in performance is like a piece of clay that is moulded into unique forms based on the musical arrangement. Dylan, if you want to perform a 60 minute version of this song, I will be there, salivating in the corner. A final lesson from last night, perhaps, darkness befits a living enigma, arguably the most important living singer/songwriter. Thanks, Bob for everything!
Barry Watt - 28th November 2013.
Afterword
Anglepoise lamps are copyright to Anglepoise.
The Eagles are a little known American band. Perhaps, best known for their 'Hotel California' album which is copyrighted to Asylum Records.
'Breakfast at Tiffany's' was on the Theatre Royal Haymarket in 2009. Very good performance from Anna Friel and a nice adaptation of the story by Truman Capote.
'Tangled Up In Blue' and 'Simple Twist Of Fate' both appear on 'Blood On The Tracks' (Columbia Records).
The album 'Tempest' is copyright to Columbia Records and is well worth a listen.
'All Along The Watchtower' first appeared on Dylan's album 'John Wesley Harding' and has been covered by pretty much everyone since. Arguably, the most versatile song of all time. Discuss... ;-)
BW
Thursday 28 November 2013
Saturday 16 November 2013
Shunga: Sex and pleasure in Japanese Art at the British Museum - A Gilded Lily for the Discerning Adult.
Last Sunday, I attended the 'Shunga: Sex and Pleasure in Japanese Art' exhibition at the British Museum with my partner. It was Remembrance Sunday, a little after 11am and the exhibition was reassuringly and surprisingly busy. It was an eye-opener in every sense.
'Shunga' is used to describe a body of art works that were created in Japan between 1600 and 1900. They are essentially erotic illustrations and paintings depicting various sexual practices. Unlike most forms of later pornographic material, they are quite explicit. They are also delightfully imaginative. I also felt that they probably speak volumes about the culture that produced the works.
As I walked around the exhibition, my partner and I gazed at the various works and I was just as interested in the demographic of the visitors who had chosen this day of all days to embrace their desires and needs or those that they had overlooked as time passed. There were people of all age groups. I am sure that there were some children too but the acts of carnal desire etc would have meant little to them except providing some quite distinctive illustrations of their possible futures. So perhaps, there is an argument for taking children along to erotic art exhibitions if only to point out that there is nothing obscene about sex if it is consensual and you are over the age of consent? It also enables the parents or guardians to illustrate that the images offered in the media and indeed, by this exhibition are just that, representations of archaic acts that are simply repeated. The other people attending the exhibition included tourists who had clearly had this exhibition recommended to them or else had simply stumbled on this exhibition, having been led to the British Museum and had some time to use up prior to their afternoon visit somewhere else. Then there was the elderly couple of ladies who gazed at the images joking with each other.
I enjoyed the range of images on offer and the fact that they were available like many forms of explicit material discreetly and surreptitiously. The Japanese Government of the time did not condone the art form, although it was regularly marketed as an aid for newly wed couples. What intrigued me about the art works on offer was the range of stories depicted in these images, some suitably fantastical, woman being abducted by an Octopus and then enduring the sensation of said Mollusc performing some bizarre variation of cunnilingus on her. Then I noted, the detail of the backgrounds of the sexual acts. The attention to detail applied to the storage units and cooking utensils. Then as everyone noticed, it was interesting how many of the compositions included images of maids, babies and animals looking on as the respective couples continued their acts clearly not aware or else delighted that these willing and unwilling voyeurs were there to see the balletic exertions. One interesting fact came out of the exhibition that I feel needs to be aired. Apparently, Chinese art of the time depicted the male and female anatomy more realistically and to size. Japanese art from this period is about excess. Huge penises being the order of the day. One artwork playing up the 'fictional' penis competitions where men would measure up their members against each other. How little has changed over time and indeed, even between cultures.
A final point, the sexual acts on offer were many and varied. All sexual preferences were catered for. After all, these works were often commercial and where there's a demand, there must be a supply. Something for everyone in this closet industry.
I recommend this exhibition, particularly if you want to explore the delights of a form of art that does not need to hide its eroticism behind dark curtains. I can imagine school trips to this exhibition. Okay, maybe not but if you wish to see an influential style that inspired the likes of Picasso then you could not wish for a more thrilling couple of hours in an austere setting.
Barry Watt - 16th November 2013.
'Shunga' is used to describe a body of art works that were created in Japan between 1600 and 1900. They are essentially erotic illustrations and paintings depicting various sexual practices. Unlike most forms of later pornographic material, they are quite explicit. They are also delightfully imaginative. I also felt that they probably speak volumes about the culture that produced the works.
As I walked around the exhibition, my partner and I gazed at the various works and I was just as interested in the demographic of the visitors who had chosen this day of all days to embrace their desires and needs or those that they had overlooked as time passed. There were people of all age groups. I am sure that there were some children too but the acts of carnal desire etc would have meant little to them except providing some quite distinctive illustrations of their possible futures. So perhaps, there is an argument for taking children along to erotic art exhibitions if only to point out that there is nothing obscene about sex if it is consensual and you are over the age of consent? It also enables the parents or guardians to illustrate that the images offered in the media and indeed, by this exhibition are just that, representations of archaic acts that are simply repeated. The other people attending the exhibition included tourists who had clearly had this exhibition recommended to them or else had simply stumbled on this exhibition, having been led to the British Museum and had some time to use up prior to their afternoon visit somewhere else. Then there was the elderly couple of ladies who gazed at the images joking with each other.
I enjoyed the range of images on offer and the fact that they were available like many forms of explicit material discreetly and surreptitiously. The Japanese Government of the time did not condone the art form, although it was regularly marketed as an aid for newly wed couples. What intrigued me about the art works on offer was the range of stories depicted in these images, some suitably fantastical, woman being abducted by an Octopus and then enduring the sensation of said Mollusc performing some bizarre variation of cunnilingus on her. Then I noted, the detail of the backgrounds of the sexual acts. The attention to detail applied to the storage units and cooking utensils. Then as everyone noticed, it was interesting how many of the compositions included images of maids, babies and animals looking on as the respective couples continued their acts clearly not aware or else delighted that these willing and unwilling voyeurs were there to see the balletic exertions. One interesting fact came out of the exhibition that I feel needs to be aired. Apparently, Chinese art of the time depicted the male and female anatomy more realistically and to size. Japanese art from this period is about excess. Huge penises being the order of the day. One artwork playing up the 'fictional' penis competitions where men would measure up their members against each other. How little has changed over time and indeed, even between cultures.
A final point, the sexual acts on offer were many and varied. All sexual preferences were catered for. After all, these works were often commercial and where there's a demand, there must be a supply. Something for everyone in this closet industry.
I recommend this exhibition, particularly if you want to explore the delights of a form of art that does not need to hide its eroticism behind dark curtains. I can imagine school trips to this exhibition. Okay, maybe not but if you wish to see an influential style that inspired the likes of Picasso then you could not wish for a more thrilling couple of hours in an austere setting.
Barry Watt - 16th November 2013.
Saturday 2 November 2013
Morrissey - The Nation's Favourite Grandson.
Today, I finished reading 'Morrissey: Autobiography'. Having finished the book, which has caused some rumblings in the world owing to the decision made by the publishers, Penguin, to release it under their 'Classics' imprint, I am left with the same feeling I had when I started, his life is in his songs. The revelations begin and end within the bridge/verse/chorus structure, which occupy his creative mind. In the Acknowledgements, Morrissey tellingly emphasises this point:
Whatever is sung is the case.
(Page 470 - 'Autobiography')
The Autobiography reads like a dissection of his current life, using the past to explain how he is where he is today. What is most fruitfully revealed is a man who wants something that he only seems to get on stage. The audience are his fuel, his meaning for being. Everything else that matters to him is only hinted at. Just his love of the audience, music, unwavering veganism and his love/support of animals/birds/fish shines from the pages of this tome.
In many respects, he remains the blank canvas onto which his listeners and audience members project their own needs and aspirations.
Having briefly expressed my view of the 'Autobiography', I feel it worthwhile to expand upon Morrissey's significance to me, as everyone has an opinion of Morrissey whether they like him or not.
I got into Morrissey in a quite haphazard way. I remember taping a radio recording of Morrissey's Drury Lane concert in 1995 for a friend's brother and being intrigued by his vocal style and lyrics. I remember being particularly struck by the song 'Jack the Ripper', with its moody intensity. I remember being told that Morrissey had been the lead singer in a band called The Smiths when I stupidly heard my first Smiths' song in the Student Union bar of Greenwich University and had stated 'that guy sounds like Morrissey'.
Through my growing interest in Morrissey, I purchased a fanzine called 'A Chance To Shine', where I made contact with a friend I am still in touch with today (Louise had placed an advert in the Contacts section). I was pleased to discover that mutual tastes in music often mirror other mutual interests. Through our friendship, she has introduced me to other types of music, particularly the band Love and Scott Walker.
I finally saw Morrissey live in 1999 at the Forum in London, his set was just under eighty minutes and I seem to remember at least a couple of stage invasions. The phenomenon of stage invasions is curiously only really apparent at Morrissey gigs. The sight of predominantly men clambering over the security to grab, hug and touch Morrissey's hands is still a potent sight. He regularly condones the act and only seems to edge away when the advances seem too aggressive. I have seen other Morrissey gigs since and I was unlucky enough to have a ticket for one of the London Roundhouse gigs he didn't perform owing to illness. Indeed, one of the frustrations of being a Morrissey fan is the realisation that the chances of his cancelling a gig go up exponentially the longer the tour. But I guess this is to be expected, as your body can only take so much.
The fanaticism surrounding Morrissey is scary. There are monthly nights dedicated to Morrissey and The Smiths at The Star and Garter pub in Manchester, where only Smiths' and Morrissey music is played. Seeing so many men dressed elegantly with freshly groomed quiffs is a surprisingly engaging sight. Oddly enough, I have never felt the need to try consciously to look like Morrissey, although occasionally by accident, I do! (I was once told this at a Morrissey night).
As I have grown up with Morrissey, I have witnessed him change from someone inspiring and possibly, an Everyman figure to someone who seems filled with hate and vengeance. His views range from intelligent and funny to vindictive and deliberately controversial. His musical output obviously seems to reflect this progression in some respects, although his lyrics still retain a sense of humanity when they are not steeped in a veil of self-pity. Don't get me wrong, I believe he is entitled to explore his feelings in any form he chooses, yet if you are feeling down, certain songs will make you feel even worse. Also there are times when I just want to hug him.
Reading the 'Autobiography' has left me with the same view of Morrissey, he is a great singer/songwriter, a pervasive performer on stage and possibly the most insular person off-stage. He stated once in an interview with Jonathan Ross (if I recall correctly) that he could count his friends on one hand and he wasn't joking. His sexuality as it always should have been is his concern. The 'Autobiography' hints at relationships with both men and women. The only sensation I feel upon reflecting upon this 'Autobiography' is his deep need for a child, but his own child not an adopted child as a P.R. stunt, someone he can care for unconditionally.
Morrissey will always be the man who got away. I just wonder what he is escaping from.
Barry Watt - 27th October 2013
Afterword
'Morrissey: Autobiography' is out now and is published by Penguin Classics. My one quote was borrowed from the 'Acknowledgements' page on page 470.
'Jack The Ripper' appears on various Morrissey albums and on the single 'Certain People I Know'. It is on the live album, 'Beethoven Was Deaf' (HMV).
BW
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