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Musaeum Hermeticum

More from the storehouse of wonders that is the Getty Alchemy Collection at the Internet Archive. The illustrations here are from the 1678 edition of the Musaeum Hermeticum, a lengthy collection of alchemical texts with engraved illustrations by Matthäus Merian (1593–1650). Merian’s illustrations are some of the most frequently reprinted of all those you’ll find in alchemical books of this period, and justifiably so, he had a knack for presenting the allegories of the alchemical process in an elegant and detailed manner that’s also gloriously strange. The same quality of strangeness can be found in his other major alchemical work, Atalanta Fugiens (aka Scrutinium Chymicum). Browse Musaeum Hermeticum here or download it here.

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The Miracle of Bali: Recital of Music

This is a great half-hour film of a type that the BBC used to produce on a regular basis when the corporation was still pursuing the Reithian mission of informing as well as entertaining. The Miracle of Bali was originally a series of three half-hour films broadcast in 1969: The Midday Sun, Night, and Recital of Music.

The narrator is David Attenborough who leads us through a range of different music and dance performances from the island. This form of music is very familiar to me—I have several albums of gamelan music from Bali and Java—but I’ve never seen the instruments themselves presented in such detail before. There’s a taste of most of the main styles of Balinese music, beginning with a furious recital from a gamelan orchestra. Three dances follow, then the film ends with a stunning performance of the Kecak, or Monkey Chant. This is a common feature of recordings from Bali but seeing it staged takes the performance—which also includes dance and theatre—to a different level entirely. Watch it here. Via MetaFilter.

Previously on { feuilleton }
• The Gamelatron

The recurrent pose 52

After Young Man Beside the Sea (2008) by Abe Koya.

Further examples of this most recurrent of poses continue to emerge. Abe Koya subjects Flandrin’s jeunne homme to some Japanese tattooing, one of a number of prints that give other famous artworks similar treatment.

La solitudine dei numeri due (2011) by Giuseppe Veneziano.

Giuseppe Veneziano goes the opposite route by placing a superhero in Flandrin’s seascape. Another of Veneziano’s paintings has Superman in a pieta pose; Krypton’s most famous exile had already appeared in Flandrin’s setting some years ago. (Thanks to Hans for the tip!)

Elsewhere on { feuilleton }
• The recurrent pose archive

Kusama’s Self-Obliteration, a film by Jud Yalkut

Yayoi Kusama’s art has often been classed as psychedelic—some of her mirrored rooms were featured in the travelling Summer of Love exhibition in 2005—but this is more a consequence of her activities meshing with the interests of the late 60s than anything else; her preoccupations always seem a lot more personal and obsessive. Jud Yalkut’s short film shows Kusama and various friends cavorting in typical underground-movie fashion in 1967, the main indicator of the artist’s involvement being her sticking polka dots (and leaves) onto everything: trees, people, cats, horses, even a river. Later on there’s more polka-dotting at some kind of body-paint happening inside one of her mirrored rooms. The film itself is pretty psychedelic in the second half, looking like outtakes from Roger Corman’s The Trip. The of-the-moment score was provided by The CIA Change, whoever they were. Watch it here.

Previously on { feuilleton }
• Infinite reflections
• Yayoi Kusama
• The art of Yayoi Kusama

Trip texts

I would have changed the subject today if it wasn’t for spotting a copy of David Solomon’s LSD: The Consciousness-Expanding Drug (1964) in Roger Corman’s notorious and rather creditable stab at psychedelia, The Trip (1967). Corman’s film is an oddity in his run of AIP exploitation films in being far less condemnatory than you’d expect (although Peter Fonda’s character isn’t always enjoying his experience), and must also be the only film in the whole AIP canon with signifying texts.

By the time Solomon’s book makes an appearance, Fonda’s character, Paul, has started freaking out but earlier on, during his conversations with John (Bruce Dern), we have Allen Ginsberg’s Howl and Other Poems (1956) shouting out of the frame. “I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness…” Okay Rog, we get it.

There’s more, however. Behind Howl there’s another book whose identity eludes me, while behind that you can make out the red typography and white dorje symbol from the 1960 OUP edition of The Tibetan Book of the Dead. The only reason I recognised this is because I own that edition so the cover is very familiar. This would be a popular text in an acid-tripper’s apartment; John tells Paul to “Relax and float down stream”, a line that recapitulates the advice given in Leary, Metzner and Alpert’s The Psychedelic Experience: A Manual Based on The Tibetan Book of the Dead (1964). Most surprising for me about this inclusion is that The Tibetan Book of the Dead features a lot more prominently in that other major film about psychedelic experience, Enter the Void (2009). Am I the only person to have made this material connection? Probably. Does anyone care? Probably not, but I do like recording these associations.

Cover design by Lawrence Ratzkin.

Previously on { feuilleton }
• Acid albums
• Acid covers
• Lyrical Substance Deliberated
• The Art of Tripping, a documentary by Storm Thorgerson
• Enter the Void
• In the Land of Retinal Delights
• The art of LSD
• Hep cats