{music} – Page 215 – { feuilleton }

Mistaken Memories Of Mediaeval Manhattan

The first ambient film, at least in the Brian Eno sense of the term, although one can think of other examples prior to this, not least Andy Warhol’s Empire (1964) which is possibly alluded to in a sequence showing the Empire State Building in the distance. Eno filmed several static views of New York and its drifting cloudscape from his thirteenth-floor apartment in 1980–81. The low-grade equipment (and NTSC video) give the images a hazy, impressionistic quality. Lack of a tripod meant filming with the camera lying on its side so the tape had to be re-viewed with a television monitor also turned on its side. The assembled videos were later screened in galleries with music from some of the Ambient series of albums, and also two unique pieces.

An edited suite of seven pieces running 47 minutes was released on VHS tape in 1987. Like the original recordings, these could only be viewed by turning your TV on its side, something I used to think was a combination of the hazardous and foolhardy to all but the most diehard Eno aficionados. Television sets in the 1980s were either portable things in cheap plastic enclosures (some with curved sides), or cathode-tube monsters that would require two people two handle, assuming they weren’t screwed to a stand. I’ve yet to hear of anyone other than Eno himself who ever went to this trouble to watch a single video recording. It’s notable that recent DVD reissues of these videos, and the later Thursday Afternoon, have included horizontal as well as vertical versions.

The screen grabs here are from a 26-minute edit of the suite. The 14 Video Paintings DVD is currently out-of-print but a vertical copy can be found at Ubuweb.

Previously on { feuilleton }
• Brian Eno: Imaginary Landscapes
• Thursday Afternoon by Brian Eno
• Moonlight in Glory
• Tiger Mountain Strategies
• Generative culture
• My Life in the Bush of Ghosts

Strange Days

Strange Days was the second album by The Doors, released in October 1967. It’s the album that veers the closest to what people think of today as a psychedelic sound—which puts it in my favour—and is also unique in the group’s catalogue for minimising their presence on the gatefold sleeve, something Jim Morrison was always eager to do even as the record company were trying to turn him into a pop star.

The cover photo by Joel Brodsky of street performers was intended to be reminiscent of a scene from Fellini. For years I was under the impression that this street was European, it certainly doesn’t look typically American, so it was a surprise to read earlier today that the location is Sniffen Court, a small mews in the heart of New York City. New York or not, I’ve always wanted to live in a place like this. You can keep your gardens and empty lawns, I’d be quite happy to see those wonderfully eroded flagstones every day. Contemporary views of Sniffen Court show that much of its atmosphere on the cover derives solely from Joel Brodsky’s skill at capturing the light as it reflects from the paving stones. The place today looks neater, cleaner and a lot less attractive, but that’s not too surprising for a historic area in one of the most expensive cities on earth.

Sniffen Court, NYC, in 2012. The plaques at the rear were sculpted by Malvina Hoffman.

Elsewhere on { feuilleton }
• The album covers archive

Weekend links 166

The Julian House cover art for the forthcoming collaboration between John Foxx and Belbury Poly (here renamed) has been revealed. Single no. 9 in the Ghost Box Listening Centre Study Series is now available.

• In addition to new Ghost Box records there’s more Hauntological (for want of a better term) cinema on the way this summer with the DVD/BR release of Ben Wheatley’s A Field in England. The potted description at Movie Mail is “a monochrome psychedelic trip into magic and madness set during the English Civil War”. Julian House has made a trailer. Meanwhile at Fangoria, there’s a PIF mixtape from The Advisory Circle. This accompanies an interview with John Krish, director of the most bizarre of the UK’s many strange and alarming public information films from the 1970s.

• More mixes: The hour-long OH/EX/OH show for The Geography Trip on Chorlton FM. “Expect slumber / tension / euphoria in almost equal measures.” It’s marvellous. At Self-Titled mag there’s DJ Food with O Is For Orange: Boards of Canada, Broadcast, The Books, etc.

• Tangiers is a computer game based on the fiction of William Burroughs. Jim Rossignol talked to Alex Harvey about the development of the project.

Walpurgisnacht (1917) by Amadeus. A drawing that could easily be from the late 1960s. If anyone knows the full name of the artist, please leave a comment. Via Beautiful Century.

• Rebecca J. Rosen asks “What would the night sky look like if the other planets were as close as the moon?”

• The mystery of Charles Dellschau and the Sonora Aero Club.

• The Surreal Cave Paintings Of Stockholm’s Metro Stations.

• At 50 Watts: More strange art from Marcus Behmer.

• Ry Cooder in 1970. Directed by Van Dyke Parks!

• The Post Office Tower: now you see it…

• At Little Augury: 99 Meninas.

• Sartori In Tangier (1982) by King Crimson | City Of Mirage (2010) by John Foxx

The Sea of Monsters

The German definite article has unfortunate implications when applied to a group of Brits, but if we overlook this detail the poster makes an interesting contrast with its US counterpart. Where the American design depicts all the film’s main characters, Heinz Edelmann’s painting concentrates almost solely on the creatures from the Sea of Monsters with no Blue Meanies in sight. As is often the case with film posters, both designs give a slightly different impression whilst being accurate in their selective representations. Yellow Submarine was reissued on DVD and Blu-ray last year. It looks and sounds marvellous.

Previously on { feuilleton }
• Tomorrow Never Knows
• Yellow Submarine comic books
• A splendid time is guaranteed for all
• Heinz Edelmann
• Please Mr. Postman
• All you need is…

What Is A Happening?

Poster for the 14 Hour Technicolor Dream (1967) by Michael McInnerney.

“The language of Mellow Yellow, the art of the Happening…”

Yesterday’s story from International Times appeared in the same week in 1967 as this 30-minute BBC documentary shown as part of the Man Alive documentary strand. Taking them together you receive contrasting views of a major moment for London’s psychedelic underground, The 14 Hour Technicolor Dream, an all-night indoor arts-and-music festival staged at Alexandra Palace on 29th April, 1967. The event was a benefit to raise money for International Times following a prosecution for obscenity (Oz magazine later had to endure a similar, more notorious rigmarole). Alexandra Palace was an odd choice of location, being a huge Victorian exhibition space which had once served as the BBC’s main studios. (The first Quatermass serial was filmed there in 1953.) The venue was apparently chosen because it had previously hosted blues all-nighters but the acoustics are dreadful for live music, as the BBC’s documentary demonstrates. The film also shows that most of the audience wouldn’t have been too concerned; being there was more important.

When you’ve been reading about an event like this for years it’s fascinating to get an extended view of the thing. The BBC were there all night, and capture many key incidents. The three interviewers are deeply sceptical of the whole business but that’s inevitable when they were making a film for a general audience. All the same, the repeated questions of “Why are you here? What’s this for?” are ones that would never be asked of a group of visitors to, say, Ascot, or the Henley Regatta. “It’s the audience which is the interesting part,” an upper-class Chelsea bookseller astutely declares, the interviewer seeming surprised that an older person might wish to be present. If the event looks trivial and even stereotypical today (tripped-out kids and blissful sentiments), it needs to be remembered that this was the very first time anything like this had been seen in Britain, hence the presence of the documentary crew. For sceptics and initiates alike the night was a glimpse of bright new territory opening up. The excitement of the moment still communicates itself.

• What Is A Happening?: part one | part two | part three

• The 14 Hour Technicolor Dream at UK Rock Festivals

Previously on { feuilleton }
• My White Bicycle