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"Kite's Book" at 6th Street Playhouse, Santa Rosa CA
To contact us Click HERE
“Kite’s Book: Tales of an 18th Century Hitman”
by Robert Caisley
Presented at 6th Street Playhouse
GK Hardt Theater, Santa Rosa CA
Photo by Eric Chazankin:
(from left) Rahman Dalrymple, Adam Burkholder
Reviewed by Suzanne and Greg Angeo
Have Sword - Will Travel
It’s an ominous sight: three huge gallows looming over the stage, smoke hanging in the air and a young man about to be torn apart by wild horses, but it offers only a clue to what’s in store. The West Coast premiere of “Kite’s Book: Tales of an 18th Century Hitman” at 6th Street Playhouse is a delight-filled black comedy supreme. And yes, there is gallows humor and glorification of the macabre, just in time for Halloween.
Charming assassin-for-hire Harry Kite chooses his clients carefully, based upon his own strict personal code. He is also a vigilante of sorts, a hero of the lower classes who takes matters into his own hands when he sees those in power, like corrupt judges and politicians, getting off scot-free with their crimes. In Harry Kite’s book, murder is the rational, even moral, thing to do. Thus he has become a celebrity - and a wanted man.
The play was conceived in the heat of the sensational early 1990s courtroom dramas featuring the scandals of O.J. Simpson, the Menendez brothers and Michael Jackson. Playwright Robert Caisley was a young teacher at Illinois Wesleyan University at the time. He was struck by the fact that the mob reaction to the trials he saw on TV reminded him of the teeming crowds gathered to observe the very public executions in 18th century London. His response was to craft a play that, despite its 1750s setting, has a bright, fresh message and is brimming with fascinating conflicts: liberal versus conservative, class warfare, illicit love and social Darwinism.
The system of crime and punishment in a society is a barometer of its social justice. Throughout human history the “haves” have imposed their rule upon the “have-nots” in a seemingly endless vicious circle. “Kite’s Book” vividly reminds us of our own times, with the distance of time providing a disconnect: a new way to see what’s happening right in front of us, on the stage and in the world. This Brechtian approach (named after the hugely influential German playwright and director Bertolt Brecht) also uses characters to represent ideas, rather than people, and in unexpected ways. It allows the audience to focus on the larger issues presented, rather than the individual characters. The audience carries this experience out of the theater and into their lives, with a lasting effect.
Director Craig Miller’s connection to “Kite’s Book” dates back to his college days at Illinois State University, where he and playwright Caisley met in the early 1990s. When Caisley returned to ISU in 1996 to present his new play “Kite’s Book”, Miller recalls being “absolutely enthralled” by the story. In the years since, he has waited for the opportunity to direct it, and is pleased to present it now at 6th Street. Miller came on board as Artistic Director earlier this year, and in that short time has proven again and again that he has considerable talents to bring to the party. Miller imbues this work with sensitivity, energy and dark humor.
At the beginning and end of the play, the actors assemble onstage as a “canting crew”, a period term used to describe a group of gypsies and thieves who speak in unison with the rhyming slang of the day set to verse, vaguely reminiscent of today’s hip-hop. The effect is spellbinding, rather like a subversive Greek chorus. The music of “Danse Macabre” by French composer Charles-Camille Saint-Saens provides the perfect theme. The raked stage showcases duels with pistols and swords, heavy romance, intrigue, and one silent, powerful scene that is simply too intense to describe in words.
The cast of characters is worthy of the tale, and each performer is brilliant in their own right. We have a wicked judge, Lord Hardwick (Barry Martin), and his beautiful, abused wife Mary Summers (Courtney Walsh). Two public officials, associates of the judge, couldn’t be more different: the fair-minded populist Romilly (Guy Slater) and the scheming, pompous Welles (Larry Williams).
Then there’s the crazed pimp Jack Wyld (Tice Allison) and his lovely, desperate floozy Nelly Sweet (April Krautner). A young vagabond actor Will Carew (Clint Campbell) falls hard for Nelly and tries to defend what honor she has left. In the title role is Rahman Dalrymple as the charismatic killer, who takes young Carew under his wing, and teaches him the fine art of mayhem. There’s a hilarious French executioner Emile (Ray Morgan), and an appearance by Welles’ children (Kate Kitchens, Preston Sigrist), two ghoulish moppets who will make you think of the Addams Family.
The artistic staff that makes this a truly quality production include Scenic Designer Jesse Dreikosen, Lighting Designer Theo Bridant, Costume Designer Tracy Sigrist and Craig Miller who, in addition to directing, also serves as Sound Designer. Special mention should be made of the Fight Choreographer, Marty Pistone, who makes the fight scenes look like natural extensions of the storytelling.
There’s good, there’s evil…and then there’s Harry Kite. Crime and punishment have never been so much fun to watch. “Kite’s Book” makes for truly satisfying and entertaining theatre.
When: Now through October 23, 2011
8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays; 2 p.m. Sundays
8 p.m. Thursdays October 6 and October 20
2 p.m. Saturday October 22
Tickets: $15 to $35
Location: 6th Street Playhouse GK Hardt Theatre, 52 West 6th St, Santa Rosa CA
Phone: 707-523-4185
Website: www.6thstreetplayhouse.com
“Kite’s Book: Tales of an 18th Century Hitman”
by Robert Caisley
Presented at 6th Street Playhouse
GK Hardt Theater, Santa Rosa CA
Photo by Eric Chazankin:
(from left) Rahman Dalrymple, Adam Burkholder
Reviewed by Suzanne and Greg Angeo
Have Sword - Will Travel
It’s an ominous sight: three huge gallows looming over the stage, smoke hanging in the air and a young man about to be torn apart by wild horses, but it offers only a clue to what’s in store. The West Coast premiere of “Kite’s Book: Tales of an 18th Century Hitman” at 6th Street Playhouse is a delight-filled black comedy supreme. And yes, there is gallows humor and glorification of the macabre, just in time for Halloween.
Charming assassin-for-hire Harry Kite chooses his clients carefully, based upon his own strict personal code. He is also a vigilante of sorts, a hero of the lower classes who takes matters into his own hands when he sees those in power, like corrupt judges and politicians, getting off scot-free with their crimes. In Harry Kite’s book, murder is the rational, even moral, thing to do. Thus he has become a celebrity - and a wanted man.
The play was conceived in the heat of the sensational early 1990s courtroom dramas featuring the scandals of O.J. Simpson, the Menendez brothers and Michael Jackson. Playwright Robert Caisley was a young teacher at Illinois Wesleyan University at the time. He was struck by the fact that the mob reaction to the trials he saw on TV reminded him of the teeming crowds gathered to observe the very public executions in 18th century London. His response was to craft a play that, despite its 1750s setting, has a bright, fresh message and is brimming with fascinating conflicts: liberal versus conservative, class warfare, illicit love and social Darwinism.
The system of crime and punishment in a society is a barometer of its social justice. Throughout human history the “haves” have imposed their rule upon the “have-nots” in a seemingly endless vicious circle. “Kite’s Book” vividly reminds us of our own times, with the distance of time providing a disconnect: a new way to see what’s happening right in front of us, on the stage and in the world. This Brechtian approach (named after the hugely influential German playwright and director Bertolt Brecht) also uses characters to represent ideas, rather than people, and in unexpected ways. It allows the audience to focus on the larger issues presented, rather than the individual characters. The audience carries this experience out of the theater and into their lives, with a lasting effect.
Director Craig Miller’s connection to “Kite’s Book” dates back to his college days at Illinois State University, where he and playwright Caisley met in the early 1990s. When Caisley returned to ISU in 1996 to present his new play “Kite’s Book”, Miller recalls being “absolutely enthralled” by the story. In the years since, he has waited for the opportunity to direct it, and is pleased to present it now at 6th Street. Miller came on board as Artistic Director earlier this year, and in that short time has proven again and again that he has considerable talents to bring to the party. Miller imbues this work with sensitivity, energy and dark humor.
At the beginning and end of the play, the actors assemble onstage as a “canting crew”, a period term used to describe a group of gypsies and thieves who speak in unison with the rhyming slang of the day set to verse, vaguely reminiscent of today’s hip-hop. The effect is spellbinding, rather like a subversive Greek chorus. The music of “Danse Macabre” by French composer Charles-Camille Saint-Saens provides the perfect theme. The raked stage showcases duels with pistols and swords, heavy romance, intrigue, and one silent, powerful scene that is simply too intense to describe in words.
The cast of characters is worthy of the tale, and each performer is brilliant in their own right. We have a wicked judge, Lord Hardwick (Barry Martin), and his beautiful, abused wife Mary Summers (Courtney Walsh). Two public officials, associates of the judge, couldn’t be more different: the fair-minded populist Romilly (Guy Slater) and the scheming, pompous Welles (Larry Williams).
Then there’s the crazed pimp Jack Wyld (Tice Allison) and his lovely, desperate floozy Nelly Sweet (April Krautner). A young vagabond actor Will Carew (Clint Campbell) falls hard for Nelly and tries to defend what honor she has left. In the title role is Rahman Dalrymple as the charismatic killer, who takes young Carew under his wing, and teaches him the fine art of mayhem. There’s a hilarious French executioner Emile (Ray Morgan), and an appearance by Welles’ children (Kate Kitchens, Preston Sigrist), two ghoulish moppets who will make you think of the Addams Family.
The artistic staff that makes this a truly quality production include Scenic Designer Jesse Dreikosen, Lighting Designer Theo Bridant, Costume Designer Tracy Sigrist and Craig Miller who, in addition to directing, also serves as Sound Designer. Special mention should be made of the Fight Choreographer, Marty Pistone, who makes the fight scenes look like natural extensions of the storytelling.
There’s good, there’s evil…and then there’s Harry Kite. Crime and punishment have never been so much fun to watch. “Kite’s Book” makes for truly satisfying and entertaining theatre.
When: Now through October 23, 2011
8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays; 2 p.m. Sundays
8 p.m. Thursdays October 6 and October 20
2 p.m. Saturday October 22
Tickets: $15 to $35
Location: 6th Street Playhouse GK Hardt Theatre, 52 West 6th St, Santa Rosa CA
Phone: 707-523-4185
Website: www.6thstreetplayhouse.com
Blueprint Book Club Part 2: Museums as Battlefields in the History Wars
To contact us Click HERE
This post is the second in a series of reactions to Blueprint, a book chronicling the rise and fall of the Dutch Museum of National History (INNL) in 2008-2011. This guest post was written by Regan Forrest, exhibition developer and visitor experience researcher at the University of Queensland in Australia. Regan was struck by the similarities between the controversy around the Dutch Museum of National History and the issues that surrounded the National Museum of Australia when it opened ten years ago.
As someone who has worked on several “ground-up” museum projects, somethat have made it to fruition, others not, I was particularly interested in thebackground context of INNL rather than the specifics of the planned museum. Inmy experience, there is often very little difference between the design andcontent of those that make it and those that don’t: it’s all about politics,economics, personalities and timing. A new national museum is a particularlyambitious undertaking, because what is being created is a highly visible andlong-standing statement about national identity, national priorities and aprojection of self-image to the world at large. Anyone with such a brief inthis day and age has their work cut out for them. The days of theunidimensional grand narrative are behind us, replaced by ongoing debate anddisagreement. It’s a far more complex picture to present.
The dismissal of the INNL’s plans as a ‘post-modern mish-mash’ (Blueprint, p219)immediately jumped out at me as something that might have been said in somequarters about the National Museum of Australia(NMA) when it opened in 2001. The NMAwas a key battlefield in Australia’s “History Wars," a continuing national debate about how we recognise, teach and interpret theknottier aspects of Australia’s colonial past. The NMA was accused ofpresenting a “black armband” view of Australia’s history (i.e., dwelling on thepredations of colonialism rather than celebrating national achievements).
Due to the political climate of the time, a review of the Museum was commissionedin 2003 to determine whether the museum had complied with the requirements of itscharter.
The review’s authors emphasised the importance of narrative (if notGrand Narrative) as a communication tool. In this sense, the NMA was deemedto have missed a trick. The linking themes and narratives of the museum wereinsufficiently explicit in many places, making the experience feel disjointed. Insome cases, the lack of a strong collection to support the storylines emphasisednarrative weaknesses. On the other hand, the review of the Museum’s programswas mostly favourable and the museum’s online presence was praised.
In response to the report, the NMA produced a Collections and Gallery Development Plan toaddress the issues highlighted. Changes to exhibitions and visitor orientationhave been made, the museum’s programs continue to evolve, and there is aredevelopment to the building currently underway which will expand the publicspaces and make it possible for the museum to display more of its iconicobjects.
The history wars may not have ended, but they have moved on to otherbattlefields.
So when considering plans on paper for a museum that didn’t even make itto the ribbon stage, some latitude is warranted. We don’t know how things wouldhave evolved from opening day. How would the competing views of Dutch history haveplayed out? To what extent would changing political tides have influenced theoutcome? Would the interlocking storylines have made sense to the averagevisitor? Would it have captured the imagination of audiences? Would visitorshave left feeling energised, or overwhelmed?
This post is the second in a series of reactions to Blueprint, a book chronicling the rise and fall of the Dutch Museum of National History (INNL) in 2008-2011. This guest post was written by Regan Forrest, exhibition developer and visitor experience researcher at the University of Queensland in Australia. Regan was struck by the similarities between the controversy around the Dutch Museum of National History and the issues that surrounded the National Museum of Australia when it opened ten years ago. As someone who has worked on several “ground-up” museum projects, somethat have made it to fruition, others not, I was particularly interested in thebackground context of INNL rather than the specifics of the planned museum. Inmy experience, there is often very little difference between the design andcontent of those that make it and those that don’t: it’s all about politics,economics, personalities and timing. A new national museum is a particularlyambitious undertaking, because what is being created is a highly visible andlong-standing statement about national identity, national priorities and aprojection of self-image to the world at large. Anyone with such a brief inthis day and age has their work cut out for them. The days of theunidimensional grand narrative are behind us, replaced by ongoing debate anddisagreement. It’s a far more complex picture to present.
The dismissal of the INNL’s plans as a ‘post-modern mish-mash’ (Blueprint, p219)immediately jumped out at me as something that might have been said in somequarters about the National Museum of Australia(NMA) when it opened in 2001. The NMAwas a key battlefield in Australia’s “History Wars," a continuing national debate about how we recognise, teach and interpret theknottier aspects of Australia’s colonial past. The NMA was accused ofpresenting a “black armband” view of Australia’s history (i.e., dwelling on thepredations of colonialism rather than celebrating national achievements).
Due to the political climate of the time, a review of the Museum was commissionedin 2003 to determine whether the museum had complied with the requirements of itscharter. The review’s authors emphasised the importance of narrative (if notGrand Narrative) as a communication tool. In this sense, the NMA was deemedto have missed a trick. The linking themes and narratives of the museum wereinsufficiently explicit in many places, making the experience feel disjointed. Insome cases, the lack of a strong collection to support the storylines emphasisednarrative weaknesses. On the other hand, the review of the Museum’s programswas mostly favourable and the museum’s online presence was praised.
In response to the report, the NMA produced a Collections and Gallery Development Plan toaddress the issues highlighted. Changes to exhibitions and visitor orientationhave been made, the museum’s programs continue to evolve, and there is aredevelopment to the building currently underway which will expand the publicspaces and make it possible for the museum to display more of its iconicobjects.
The history wars may not have ended, but they have moved on to otherbattlefields.
So when considering plans on paper for a museum that didn’t even make itto the ribbon stage, some latitude is warranted. We don’t know how things wouldhave evolved from opening day. How would the competing views of Dutch history haveplayed out? To what extent would changing political tides have influenced theoutcome? Would the interlocking storylines have made sense to the averagevisitor? Would it have captured the imagination of audiences? Would visitorshave left feeling energised, or overwhelmed?
Blueprint Book Club Part 3: The Future of the National Vending Machine
To contact us Click HERE
This post is the third and final in a series of reactions to Blueprint, a book chronicling the rise and fall of the Dutch Museum of National History (INNL) in 2008-2011. This guest post was written by Geert-Jan Davelaar and Anna Tiedink, educators at the Zuiderzee Open Air Museum in the Netherlands, the museum that "adopted" the INNL's National Vending Machine project after INNL's closure. The Vending Machine project was one of my favorites; you can learn more about it here.
After INNL was forced to close its (mostly virtual) doors, the National Vending Machine, one of the projects the Museum of National History had set up, was transferred to the Zuiderzeemuseum. How is the exhibit living on at the museum and what is it like to take over someone else’s project? We’d like to share some thoughts and ideas in this guest post.
The National Vending Machine is an actual functional machine, which, instead of traditional Dutch snacks, contains different everyday objects and souvenirs visitors can buy for a small sum. Information on a label and a short video clip informs the buyer about the history behind objects including a tulip, fishing boat, licorice and tea towel. Online, participants can share why they bought the object and suggest a new object for the machine.
A vending machine is actually a pretty good metaphor for the process of taking over the exhibit from INNL:
But the National Vending Machine, as most of INNL’s projects, is a prototype. Consequently, soon after the transfer, our discussions focused on the objective of the machine in its new context: what purpose does it have? Where should we place it and how do we want our visitors to engage with it?
Zuiderzeemuseum is an open-air museum that focuses on a specific region in the north of the Netherlands. Originally, we placed the vending machine in the car park ticketing area, where about 60% of our visitors wait for a ferry to come to the museum itself. After exhibiting the vending machine in our entrance building, we found it was used by a cross-section of our audience: families, day-trippers, pupils and students. We also noticed about 30% of the exhibit's visitors by-passed the registration procedure, choosing to buy an object without creating a user profile. This focus on buying the object was also reflected in the fact that none of the registered participants responded to the objects online. The vending machine itself was popular, but the secondary experience around it was not.
So now, we are trying to come up with a way to go beyond the convenience of the quick sale and seduce our audience to have a deeper engagement with the histories behind the objects. We want to have a conversation with our audience and facilitate storytelling. We want to increase the offline and online participation and go beyond what can be seen as a gimmick: buying an historical object in an unexpected way.
While we are interested in facilitating deeper experiences, we also plan to start tweaking the usability of the vending machines to make buying an object as easy as possible. Why should a visitor go through a laborious registration procedure to get a RFID card when it has no other use for him or her? The RFID card was intended to be the entrance ticket for INNL, so it made sense in that context during their planning. For us, the card is less useful. Also, just like any vending machine, objects get physically stuck in the system. Rethinking the design and the technology used is an important part of this ongoing process.
Being an open-air museum presenting the past, present and future of a specific region in the north of The Netherlands, our discussion of what regional objects we should include in the vending machine goes deeper. Are we the ones who should curate the items that tell people’s history? We don’t think so. Most importantly, we see the Vending Machine as a catalyst for co-creation, giving our audience greater influence and a greater voice to a shared history. The Vending Machine will travel to different communities in and outside our region. We would like to link with other organizations, institutions, individuals and neighborhoods and have them decide which objects represent their history and belong in the exhibit. This project will result in new objects for the Vending Machine as well as our coming new main exhibition. The vending machine could even be a message in a bottle: going from one place to the other spreading its stories as it moves.
So, we’re back to our original vending machine. In a way we are like our visitors, standing in front of the brightly lit National Vending Machine, coins in our hands, 80 different compartments to choose from, trying to make our decision as we would an actual vending machine. We're left wondering what aims can be relevant for this exhibit and our museum. Which compartment would you open?
This post is the third and final in a series of reactions to Blueprint, a book chronicling the rise and fall of the Dutch Museum of National History (INNL) in 2008-2011. This guest post was written by Geert-Jan Davelaar and Anna Tiedink, educators at the Zuiderzee Open Air Museum in the Netherlands, the museum that "adopted" the INNL's National Vending Machine project after INNL's closure. The Vending Machine project was one of my favorites; you can learn more about it here. After INNL was forced to close its (mostly virtual) doors, the National Vending Machine, one of the projects the Museum of National History had set up, was transferred to the Zuiderzeemuseum. How is the exhibit living on at the museum and what is it like to take over someone else’s project? We’d like to share some thoughts and ideas in this guest post.
The National Vending Machine is an actual functional machine, which, instead of traditional Dutch snacks, contains different everyday objects and souvenirs visitors can buy for a small sum. Information on a label and a short video clip informs the buyer about the history behind objects including a tulip, fishing boat, licorice and tea towel. Online, participants can share why they bought the object and suggest a new object for the machine.
A vending machine is actually a pretty good metaphor for the process of taking over the exhibit from INNL:
- It was convenient: without going through the process of initiation and development our museum was treated to a very attractive exhibit, all set up and ready to go.
- It was well stocked: not only did we have about 60 objects and their stories; the whole project was well documented as well.
- It was solid: in the 1.5 years the exhibit had been presented at four different locations across the Netherlands, it had proven itself to be a great tool in engaging the public with historical objects.
But the National Vending Machine, as most of INNL’s projects, is a prototype. Consequently, soon after the transfer, our discussions focused on the objective of the machine in its new context: what purpose does it have? Where should we place it and how do we want our visitors to engage with it? Zuiderzeemuseum is an open-air museum that focuses on a specific region in the north of the Netherlands. Originally, we placed the vending machine in the car park ticketing area, where about 60% of our visitors wait for a ferry to come to the museum itself. After exhibiting the vending machine in our entrance building, we found it was used by a cross-section of our audience: families, day-trippers, pupils and students. We also noticed about 30% of the exhibit's visitors by-passed the registration procedure, choosing to buy an object without creating a user profile. This focus on buying the object was also reflected in the fact that none of the registered participants responded to the objects online. The vending machine itself was popular, but the secondary experience around it was not.
So now, we are trying to come up with a way to go beyond the convenience of the quick sale and seduce our audience to have a deeper engagement with the histories behind the objects. We want to have a conversation with our audience and facilitate storytelling. We want to increase the offline and online participation and go beyond what can be seen as a gimmick: buying an historical object in an unexpected way.
While we are interested in facilitating deeper experiences, we also plan to start tweaking the usability of the vending machines to make buying an object as easy as possible. Why should a visitor go through a laborious registration procedure to get a RFID card when it has no other use for him or her? The RFID card was intended to be the entrance ticket for INNL, so it made sense in that context during their planning. For us, the card is less useful. Also, just like any vending machine, objects get physically stuck in the system. Rethinking the design and the technology used is an important part of this ongoing process.
Being an open-air museum presenting the past, present and future of a specific region in the north of The Netherlands, our discussion of what regional objects we should include in the vending machine goes deeper. Are we the ones who should curate the items that tell people’s history? We don’t think so. Most importantly, we see the Vending Machine as a catalyst for co-creation, giving our audience greater influence and a greater voice to a shared history. The Vending Machine will travel to different communities in and outside our region. We would like to link with other organizations, institutions, individuals and neighborhoods and have them decide which objects represent their history and belong in the exhibit. This project will result in new objects for the Vending Machine as well as our coming new main exhibition. The vending machine could even be a message in a bottle: going from one place to the other spreading its stories as it moves.
So, we’re back to our original vending machine. In a way we are like our visitors, standing in front of the brightly lit National Vending Machine, coins in our hands, 80 different compartments to choose from, trying to make our decision as we would an actual vending machine. We're left wondering what aims can be relevant for this exhibit and our museum. Which compartment would you open?
What Belgian Beer-Brewing Monks Taught Me about Non-Profit Business Models
To contact us Click HERE
If you want to drink the best beer in the world, you'd better be ready to work for it. A recent episode of the design podcast 99 Percent Invisible chronicled the hoops people jump through to get a bottle of Westvleteren 12, which is produced by the monks of the Abbey of Saint Sixtus of Westvleteren in Flanders, Belgium. You can only reserve a bottle by phone. You must pick it up in person at the Abbey at a specific time on a specific date. You can only buy a small amount, and you are limited to one purchase every 60 days.
The episode is mostly focused on the thrill of the hunt, and all the attendant ways exclusivity fuels desire. But late in the episode (minute 9), when the supplicant finally drinks the beer at the monastery, he is underwhelmed. The beer is terrific, but the experience is unfulfilling. He feels anonymous. He feels disconnected. He made it to Mecca, and it's kind of eh.
Why the disconnect? As Roman Mars, the show's host, puts it, "You, the consumers of beer, are not the real customer. God is." The monks make beer to support their monastic lifestyle, not to serve consumers. The exclusivity and the complicated path to purchasing the beer are not branding strategies to trump up the value of the beer. They are limitations that enable monks to spend most of their time being monks.
Listening to the podcast, I was struck by its strange connections to the non-profit world's approach to funding. In many ways, the monks have a much more practical approach to the problem of supporting their mission than the rest of us do. They brew beer to provide the income to support their religious work. It's the ultimate case of unrelated business income. They don't want their beer-brewing work and their prayer to be commingled; they are intentionally separate. Whereas non-profits work hard to fit everything they do under one mission, the monks split it up. The beer supports the mission. The beer is not part of the mission.
In the arts, this bears directly on the current debate around "art for art's sake" versus "art for community development." Not every arts organization is fundamentally focused on connecting with and engaging audiences. While a few are, the majority are only slowly pivoting towards a primary focus on audience engagement. Some do so with gusto, seeing the opportunity for transformation, relevance, and new relationships with the public. Others do so half-heartedly. Some even feel forced to do so. They want to be art monks, not customer-serving businesses.
It's totally valid for an artist or an art organization to have a monastic approach. For these organizations, the ultimate audience--the one they care most about--is something else. It could be "art" with a capital A, the pursuit of social justice or innovation or institutional critique. I've talked to plenty of non-profit artistic directors and curators who will say that the master is the work... or if not the work, the artists behind the work. To them, audience engagement is a distraction at best, a dilution or bastardization at worst.
So why do they even consider it? These days, a few key arts funders are shifting towards public engagement through art. Everyone is strapped, so organizations try to move with the funders. Monastically-inclined institutions pursue donors who support public engagement with the work, and they package the work into a kind of sausage they can sell to audiences. The result is not Mecca. It's something less than, something that often frustrates artists and audiences alike.
Community-focused organizations have the same problem in reverse. Even if they primarily care about deep engagement with audiences, these organizations often have to talk about "artistic excellence" to get noticed by traditional arts funders and donors. Community organizations without brand-name artists can be denigrated as "craft centers," even if the outcomes of their engagement efforts are tremendous.
The problem is that no one--neither art monks nor community-driven organizations--are entitled to funding. We all have to find supporters and customers who can help us pay the bills. Maybe, instead of shifting with the traditional funding, all kinds of arts organizations should be proudly and blatantly seeking out unrelated sources of income. I recently heard the director of a major performing arts organization pejoratively refer to for-profit music venues as "bars with bands" as opposed to organizations that exist to produce and present "real" music. But is it any less problematic to be supported by grants and high ticket prices than by beverage sales? Does it lead to more "pure" programming decisions? I don't think so.
We are always told that everything we do should flow from our mission. Maybe instead, we should think like the monks and figure out how we can make sure everything we do serves our mission. There are arts organizations (including my own) that get significant amounts of their operating budgets from endowments, real estate, or parking garages. There are innovative arts organizations that are led by volunteer staff members who make their money as teachers or engineers or marketers. Maybe we shouldn't apologize for these "non-mission-based" sources of income. Maybe we should pursue more of them. After all, they are what allow us to pursue our missions--for whomever our ultimate audience may be.
If you want to drink the best beer in the world, you'd better be ready to work for it. A recent episode of the design podcast 99 Percent Invisible chronicled the hoops people jump through to get a bottle of Westvleteren 12, which is produced by the monks of the Abbey of Saint Sixtus of Westvleteren in Flanders, Belgium. You can only reserve a bottle by phone. You must pick it up in person at the Abbey at a specific time on a specific date. You can only buy a small amount, and you are limited to one purchase every 60 days.The episode is mostly focused on the thrill of the hunt, and all the attendant ways exclusivity fuels desire. But late in the episode (minute 9), when the supplicant finally drinks the beer at the monastery, he is underwhelmed. The beer is terrific, but the experience is unfulfilling. He feels anonymous. He feels disconnected. He made it to Mecca, and it's kind of eh.
Why the disconnect? As Roman Mars, the show's host, puts it, "You, the consumers of beer, are not the real customer. God is." The monks make beer to support their monastic lifestyle, not to serve consumers. The exclusivity and the complicated path to purchasing the beer are not branding strategies to trump up the value of the beer. They are limitations that enable monks to spend most of their time being monks.
Listening to the podcast, I was struck by its strange connections to the non-profit world's approach to funding. In many ways, the monks have a much more practical approach to the problem of supporting their mission than the rest of us do. They brew beer to provide the income to support their religious work. It's the ultimate case of unrelated business income. They don't want their beer-brewing work and their prayer to be commingled; they are intentionally separate. Whereas non-profits work hard to fit everything they do under one mission, the monks split it up. The beer supports the mission. The beer is not part of the mission.
In the arts, this bears directly on the current debate around "art for art's sake" versus "art for community development." Not every arts organization is fundamentally focused on connecting with and engaging audiences. While a few are, the majority are only slowly pivoting towards a primary focus on audience engagement. Some do so with gusto, seeing the opportunity for transformation, relevance, and new relationships with the public. Others do so half-heartedly. Some even feel forced to do so. They want to be art monks, not customer-serving businesses.
It's totally valid for an artist or an art organization to have a monastic approach. For these organizations, the ultimate audience--the one they care most about--is something else. It could be "art" with a capital A, the pursuit of social justice or innovation or institutional critique. I've talked to plenty of non-profit artistic directors and curators who will say that the master is the work... or if not the work, the artists behind the work. To them, audience engagement is a distraction at best, a dilution or bastardization at worst.
So why do they even consider it? These days, a few key arts funders are shifting towards public engagement through art. Everyone is strapped, so organizations try to move with the funders. Monastically-inclined institutions pursue donors who support public engagement with the work, and they package the work into a kind of sausage they can sell to audiences. The result is not Mecca. It's something less than, something that often frustrates artists and audiences alike.
Community-focused organizations have the same problem in reverse. Even if they primarily care about deep engagement with audiences, these organizations often have to talk about "artistic excellence" to get noticed by traditional arts funders and donors. Community organizations without brand-name artists can be denigrated as "craft centers," even if the outcomes of their engagement efforts are tremendous.
The problem is that no one--neither art monks nor community-driven organizations--are entitled to funding. We all have to find supporters and customers who can help us pay the bills. Maybe, instead of shifting with the traditional funding, all kinds of arts organizations should be proudly and blatantly seeking out unrelated sources of income. I recently heard the director of a major performing arts organization pejoratively refer to for-profit music venues as "bars with bands" as opposed to organizations that exist to produce and present "real" music. But is it any less problematic to be supported by grants and high ticket prices than by beverage sales? Does it lead to more "pure" programming decisions? I don't think so.
We are always told that everything we do should flow from our mission. Maybe instead, we should think like the monks and figure out how we can make sure everything we do serves our mission. There are arts organizations (including my own) that get significant amounts of their operating budgets from endowments, real estate, or parking garages. There are innovative arts organizations that are led by volunteer staff members who make their money as teachers or engineers or marketers. Maybe we shouldn't apologize for these "non-mission-based" sources of income. Maybe we should pursue more of them. After all, they are what allow us to pursue our missions--for whomever our ultimate audience may be.
The Event-Driven Museum, One Year Later
To contact us Click HERE
A year ago, I wrote a post speculating about whether events (institutionally-produced programs) might be a primary driver for people to attend museums, with exhibitions being secondary. Now, a year later, I've seen the beginnings of how that question has borne out at the Santa Cruz Museum of Art & History (MAH), as well as hearing from folks around the museum industry about the interplay of exhibitions and events at their own institutions.
And so, in this post, a few findings, and more questions.
Many museums, big and small, thrive on events. I had originally assumed that this phenomenon might affect smaller museums in smaller markets more than large urban institutions, but I've since learned from colleagues at big hitters like LACMA and the Dallas Museum of Art that the majority of their visitors attend through events. One director of a children's museum even told me that they "eventize" normal operations--calling a Saturday a "family festival" without changing the planned programming--to draw more people. At our museum, about 68% of casual visitors (non-school tours) attended through events this year.
This isn't true for every museum. There are still many museums in large tourist centers with a hefty one-time audience. Zoos, aquaria, science and children's museums boast a significant "anytime" audience of families who return again and again. But for art and history museums, especially outside the biggest tourism markets, I wouldn't be surprised if events drive the lion's share of attendance, period.
At our small museum, events have driven a huge increase in attendance, community partnerships, and media coverage. We're still crunching numbers for the close of the fiscal year, but our attendance has more than doubled from 17,349 last year to about 36,000 this year. The vast majority of that increase has come through attendance to new events.
These events don't just increase audience. This year, we produced our events--especially the 3rd Friday evening series--in partnership with over 700 artists and community organizations in Santa Cruz. Events enabled us to partner with diverse groups who brought in new audiences and programmatic opportunities. We turned a place where “nothing happens” into a place where somethingwas often happening. We got media attention each time we hosted an event, and withina year, we were celebrated by the local weekly as “a major go-to hotspot… thatkeeps things fresh and fuels the creative fires of Santa Cruz.”
So why is this happening, and what does it mean? Here are three possibilities I'm toying with for why events are taking center stage at museums:
A year ago, I wrote a post speculating about whether events (institutionally-produced programs) might be a primary driver for people to attend museums, with exhibitions being secondary. Now, a year later, I've seen the beginnings of how that question has borne out at the Santa Cruz Museum of Art & History (MAH), as well as hearing from folks around the museum industry about the interplay of exhibitions and events at their own institutions.And so, in this post, a few findings, and more questions.
Many museums, big and small, thrive on events. I had originally assumed that this phenomenon might affect smaller museums in smaller markets more than large urban institutions, but I've since learned from colleagues at big hitters like LACMA and the Dallas Museum of Art that the majority of their visitors attend through events. One director of a children's museum even told me that they "eventize" normal operations--calling a Saturday a "family festival" without changing the planned programming--to draw more people. At our museum, about 68% of casual visitors (non-school tours) attended through events this year.
This isn't true for every museum. There are still many museums in large tourist centers with a hefty one-time audience. Zoos, aquaria, science and children's museums boast a significant "anytime" audience of families who return again and again. But for art and history museums, especially outside the biggest tourism markets, I wouldn't be surprised if events drive the lion's share of attendance, period.
At our small museum, events have driven a huge increase in attendance, community partnerships, and media coverage. We're still crunching numbers for the close of the fiscal year, but our attendance has more than doubled from 17,349 last year to about 36,000 this year. The vast majority of that increase has come through attendance to new events.
These events don't just increase audience. This year, we produced our events--especially the 3rd Friday evening series--in partnership with over 700 artists and community organizations in Santa Cruz. Events enabled us to partner with diverse groups who brought in new audiences and programmatic opportunities. We turned a place where “nothing happens” into a place where somethingwas often happening. We got media attention each time we hosted an event, and withina year, we were celebrated by the local weekly as “a major go-to hotspot… thatkeeps things fresh and fuels the creative fires of Santa Cruz.”
So why is this happening, and what does it mean? Here are three possibilities I'm toying with for why events are taking center stage at museums:
- Culturally, we are shifting to a more event-driven society. Recreational time is down, people are more scheduled than ever, and “casually” visiting a museum is irrelevant to many people, especially those who live outside large urban cultural centers. Festivals—whether of jazz, visual art, ethnic identity, or historic reenactment—are experiencing record attendance even as more permanent institutions that offer the same content are struggling. People want to come for the weekend, the moment, the event. (Note: this is a hypothesis with little data to back it up. Can you help with some concrete information to confirm or refute this idea?)
- It's less about the event than the timing. Audience behavior could be more driven by museum hours than by the type of activity offered. Events mostly happen in the evening or on weekends, outside of work time. The majority of our exhibition hours do not. Maybe if museums were open from 3-10pm instead of 10am-5pm, the attendance would be higher overall. However, it is worth noting that at the MAH, a Saturday without an event during daytime hours typically draws half as many visitors as a Saturday with even a very low-key drop-in program.
- Events generate media buzz and attention with greater frequency than exhibitions. The more events we do, the more we get known for events, and the more people attend during them. If society is more event-driven than ever, we have to give people explicit (and frequent) reasons to think of museums as an "anytime" experience, or they never will attend casually. This could be a worthwhile long play that introduces people to the value of a weekly "museum moment," or it could be an uphill battle against the reality of how and why people prefer to engage.
8 Temmuz 2012 Pazar
Purple Stickpin Gets (Un)Lucky on Friday the 13th
To contact us Click HERE
UPDATE 7-5-12: I just learned that this show has been cancelled. Tex says he's hoping to bring Purple Stickpin to Santa Fe sometime later this year.
A pretty nice consolation prize though: Big Sandy & The Fly-Rite Boys are scheduled that night at Santa Fe Sol.
(Original post below)
This should be an amazing show:
Purple Stickpin, featuring T. Tex Edwards (The Nervebreakbreakers, Out on Parole, The Swingin' Cornflake Killers, etc.) and Santa Fe's own Tommy Trusnovic (Monkeyshines, The Hickoids, Blood Drained Cows, The Floors, 27 Devils Joking), will play The Underground, or as oldtimers call it "Evangelos' Basement.) on Friday the 13th.
Opening are Chango and Monkeyshines.
I don't know what the cover is, but The Underground usually is pretty reasonable.
My review of the recent T. Tex compilation, Intexicated is HERE.
And here's a couple of videos:
A pretty nice consolation prize though: Big Sandy & The Fly-Rite Boys are scheduled that night at Santa Fe Sol.
(Original post below)
This should be an amazing show:
Purple Stickpin, featuring T. Tex Edwards (The Nervebreakbreakers, Out on Parole, The Swingin' Cornflake Killers, etc.) and Santa Fe's own Tommy Trusnovic (Monkeyshines, The Hickoids, Blood Drained Cows, The Floors, 27 Devils Joking), will play The Underground, or as oldtimers call it "Evangelos' Basement.) on Friday the 13th.
Opening are Chango and Monkeyshines.
I don't know what the cover is, but The Underground usually is pretty reasonable.
My review of the recent T. Tex compilation, Intexicated is HERE.
And here's a couple of videos:
TERRELL'S SOUND WORLD PLAYLIST
To contact us Click HERE
Sunday, July 1, 2012
KSFR, Santa Fe, N.M.
10 p.m. to midnight Sundays Mountain Time
Host: Steve Terrell
Webcasting!
101.1 FM
email me during the show! terrell(at)ksfr.org
OPENING THEME: Let it Out (Let it All Hang Out) by The Hombres
America by Lou Reed
Gone Deep Underground by Stan Ridgway
1000 Answers by The Hives
Drop in and Go by The Molting Vultures
The Crusher by The Novas
Don't Take Your Bad Trip Out on Me by The Electric Mess
You're Just Another Macaroon by Figures of Light
Bing Bong (There's A Party Goin' On) by The A-Bones
Der Kommisar by Die Zorros
America the Beautiful by The Dictators
Mr Bogota by Joe King Carrasco & Las Coronas
The Devil's Chasing Me by Reverend Horton Heat
Blackout by Trash Emperors
Ted by The Amputees
Bend Over I'll Drive by The Cramps
When I Was Young by The Ramones
Three Girls Named Molly by Johnny Otis
Little Latin Lupe Lu by The Kingsmen
If Looks Could Kill by T. Tex Edwards
Green Eyed by The Fall
Happy Birthday, Bitch! by The Ruiners
Get Me to the World on Time by The Electric Prunes
Mind Eraser by The Black Keys
Little Miss Chocolate Syrup by The Dirtbombs
Standing at the Station by Ty Segall
Shake Your Hips by 68 Comeback
Go Ahead and Burn by Barrence Whitfield & The Savages
House Rockin' Boogie by Howlin' Wolf
Tell Mama by Janis Joplin
Bad Man by T. Model Ford
Oh Catherine by Pere Ubu
CLOSING THEME: Over the Rainbow by Jerry Lee Lewis
Subscribe to The Big Enchilada Podcast! CLICK HERE
Sunday, July 1, 2012 KSFR, Santa Fe, N.M.
10 p.m. to midnight Sundays Mountain Time
Host: Steve Terrell
Webcasting!
101.1 FM
email me during the show! terrell(at)ksfr.org
OPENING THEME: Let it Out (Let it All Hang Out) by The Hombres
America by Lou Reed
Gone Deep Underground by Stan Ridgway
1000 Answers by The Hives
Drop in and Go by The Molting Vultures
The Crusher by The Novas
Don't Take Your Bad Trip Out on Me by The Electric Mess
You're Just Another Macaroon by Figures of Light
Bing Bong (There's A Party Goin' On) by The A-Bones
Der Kommisar by Die Zorros
America the Beautiful by The Dictators
Mr Bogota by Joe King Carrasco & Las Coronas
The Devil's Chasing Me by Reverend Horton Heat
Blackout by Trash Emperors
Ted by The Amputees
Bend Over I'll Drive by The Cramps
When I Was Young by The Ramones
Three Girls Named Molly by Johnny Otis
Little Latin Lupe Lu by The Kingsmen
If Looks Could Kill by T. Tex Edwards
Green Eyed by The Fall
Happy Birthday, Bitch! by The Ruiners
Get Me to the World on Time by The Electric Prunes
Mind Eraser by The Black Keys
Little Miss Chocolate Syrup by The Dirtbombs
Standing at the Station by Ty Segall
Shake Your Hips by 68 Comeback
Go Ahead and Burn by Barrence Whitfield & The Savages
House Rockin' Boogie by Howlin' Wolf
Tell Mama by Janis Joplin
Bad Man by T. Model Ford
Oh Catherine by Pere Ubu
CLOSING THEME: Over the Rainbow by Jerry Lee Lewis
Subscribe to The Big Enchilada Podcast! CLICK HERE
A Few of My Radio Shows Online
To contact us Click HERE
I threatened to make a habit of this early this year when I posted one of my KSFR radio shows on Mixcloud for the first time.
Well, I've got a grand total three up at the moment, but they all are doozies.
You can find them all at http://www.mixcloud.com/steveterrell
Bookmark that page. I'll be adding more when the spirit says "Upload."
I just uploaded the first half of the Sound World show where I interviewed Wheeler Dixon and Michael Downey of Figures of Light.
Terrell's Sound World 6-24-12 by Steve Terrell on Mixcloud
There's also one from May with my pal Scott Gullett co-hosting.
Terrell's Sound World 5-27-12 by Steve Terrell on Mixcloud
And there's my Santa Fe Opry from January, when I celebrated New Mexico's 100th birthday
Santa Fe Opry 1-6-2012 New Mexico Centennial by Steve Terrell on Mixcloud
Well, I've got a grand total three up at the moment, but they all are doozies.
You can find them all at http://www.mixcloud.com/steveterrell
Bookmark that page. I'll be adding more when the spirit says "Upload."
I just uploaded the first half of the Sound World show where I interviewed Wheeler Dixon and Michael Downey of Figures of Light.
Terrell's Sound World 6-24-12 by Steve Terrell on Mixcloud
There's also one from May with my pal Scott Gullett co-hosting.
Terrell's Sound World 5-27-12 by Steve Terrell on Mixcloud
And there's my Santa Fe Opry from January, when I celebrated New Mexico's 100th birthday
Santa Fe Opry 1-6-2012 New Mexico Centennial by Steve Terrell on Mixcloud
R.I.P. Sheriff Andy
To contact us Click HERE
Andy Griffith is dead at the age of 86. Here's a good obit for him.
For virtually all us baby boomers, he was America's Sheriff, thanks to his portrayal of Sheriff Andy Taylor on The Andy Griffith Show. At a time in which real Southern "lawmen" like Bull Connor of Birmingham were making headlines for the brutal suppression of the Civil Rights movement, Sheriff Andy gave us an image of what everyone wished law enforcement was like.
(However, I once came up with a weird idea for a Hicksploitation movie in which a couple of hippie hitchhikers in North Carolina were stopped by a Southern cop and hauled into jail -- the Mayberry jail as it turned out -- where they met sinister, sadistic versions of Andy and Deputy Barney Fife. In this imaginary film Floyd the Barber was a torture specialist, but Otis the Town Drunk would heroically help the poor hippie boys escape ... Great idea, but I don't think Griffith would have gone for it. )
(And I won't even bring up the vile, obscene song called "Barney Fife," sung to the tune of "Sam Hall," that my brother and I wrote back in the '80s when we were thinking of starting a punk bluegrass band ...)
But in all seriousness, I'm saddened by the loss of Andy Griffith. Though the Mayberry character will be what he's most remembered for, his greatest contribution as an actor was his portrayal of "Lonesome Rhodes" a guitar-strumming drunken drifter who rises to become a political demagogue in Elia Kazan's A Face in the Crowd (1957). And in that role he showed he was a pretty good singer too (see video below)
Goodbye, Andy. I hope Heaven is a lot like Mayberry.
at
For virtually all us baby boomers, he was America's Sheriff, thanks to his portrayal of Sheriff Andy Taylor on The Andy Griffith Show. At a time in which real Southern "lawmen" like Bull Connor of Birmingham were making headlines for the brutal suppression of the Civil Rights movement, Sheriff Andy gave us an image of what everyone wished law enforcement was like.
(However, I once came up with a weird idea for a Hicksploitation movie in which a couple of hippie hitchhikers in North Carolina were stopped by a Southern cop and hauled into jail -- the Mayberry jail as it turned out -- where they met sinister, sadistic versions of Andy and Deputy Barney Fife. In this imaginary film Floyd the Barber was a torture specialist, but Otis the Town Drunk would heroically help the poor hippie boys escape ... Great idea, but I don't think Griffith would have gone for it. )
(And I won't even bring up the vile, obscene song called "Barney Fife," sung to the tune of "Sam Hall," that my brother and I wrote back in the '80s when we were thinking of starting a punk bluegrass band ...)
But in all seriousness, I'm saddened by the loss of Andy Griffith. Though the Mayberry character will be what he's most remembered for, his greatest contribution as an actor was his portrayal of "Lonesome Rhodes" a guitar-strumming drunken drifter who rises to become a political demagogue in Elia Kazan's A Face in the Crowd (1957). And in that role he showed he was a pretty good singer too (see video below)
Goodbye, Andy. I hope Heaven is a lot like Mayberry.
at
TERRELL'S TUNEUP: (Mr.) Trouble Ahead
To contact us Click HERE
A version of this was published in The Santa Fe New Mexican
July 6, 2012
The first time I saw Stan Ridgway touting Mr. Trouble on Facebook, he referred to it as a “four-song EP.” That was just a couple of months ago. Somehow, the project kept growing, and by the time it made it to CD form, the darn thing had become a 10-song, 45-minute album.
For those keeping score, there are six new songs here plus four live tracks — all of which are taken from Ridgway’s 2010 appearance on the Mountain Stage radio show. So what we have here isn’t really an album but two EPs occupying space on one disc.
This raises an interesting question: who cares?
Whether it’s an album or EPs (or a breath mint or a candy mint), Mr. Trouble contains some of the best new songs Ridgway has done in years.
Ridgway 101 for the uninitiated: The first memory many longtime fans have of Stanard Ridgway is his face rising out of a pot of beans in the video for the song “Mexican Radio.” Ridgway was the singer of the Los Angeles New Wave group Wall of Voodoo. The video was an early MTV favorite — and it was far snazzier than anything A Flock of Seagulls or The Buggles ever did.
In a way, it was fitting that the Wall achieved fame through a video. The band formed in hopes of being hired to write and perform soundtracks for low-budget movies. But not long after that video — and the excellent Call of the West album, which contains “Mexican Radio” — things started falling apart, and Ridgway left to start a solo career.
After a short stint with Geffen Records, Ridgway has gone the independent route, not achieving massive fame but — with the help of his wife, keyboardist Pietra Wexstun — building a healthy cult following.
Back to the present: The first Mr. Trouble tunes that really grabbed me were the bluesy, funky, crime-jazz-tinted numbers, which hark back to Ridgway’s early solo years in the mid-’80s — when critics were calling him a rock ’n’ roll Raymond Chandler.
“All Too Much” (no, not The Beatles’ song) is a breezy, soul-informed workout — there’s a horn section! — in which Wexstun and guitarist Rick King shine. The melody might remind you of The B-52s’ “Love Shack,” but the lyrics aren’t so idyllic. Ridgway, as he’s known to do, sings about corruption, injustice, and hard times.
Even better is “Gone Deep Underground,” a snappy, bass-driven sleaze-blues jumper in which Ridgway sings about institutions crumbling and various people making themselves scarce. The song is full of images of boarded-up houses, people sleeping in airport bars, and even a secret government laboratory. It also contains some of the funniest lyrics I’ve heard lately: “Sandstorm blowin’ into Phoenix can ruin a perfectly good toupee/Hey, somebody hand me a Kleenex/She’s on a crying jag that won’t go away.”
“Across the Border” might just be the prettiest and saddest song Ridgway’s ever written. It’s a wistful tune colored by what sounds like tropical marimbas. The melody is gorgeous, and I don’t think Ridgway’s voice has ever sounded better. But it’s the story he tells that will punch you in the gut. A woman carrying only a small suitcase and a cellphone is leaving her country, crossing the border to start a new life.
As she’s walking, she gets a call from her husband or boyfriend, I assume, who’s trying to change her mind. But it doesn’t work. “‘This country, it once was a jewel/In a wilderness so wild and so cruel/But now no one can fix it, everything’s broken/So I’m leavin’ tonight in this rain/And nothing can stop me, no chain/And least of all you, so don’t call me again,’ and she closed up her phone.” And then comes an unforgettable image. “She walked ahead slowly, her hands holding tight/A boy on the corner lost the string of his kite/And it blew past the red, white, and blue and into the gold, red, and green/Across the border.”
At first I assumed the protagonist is a Mexican, leaving her “broken” country to come to the good old U.S.A. But could it be that she’s an American going into Mexico? After all, the boy’s kite is apparently flying across the border into Mexico, so that’s the way the wind is blowing.
The Mountain Stage tracks are decent, if not essential, performances of acoustic-oriented Ridgway tunes, with bluegrass honcho Tim O’Brien playing fiddle. The material is drawn from Ridgway’s first solo album, 1986’s The Big Heat; his previous album, Neon Mirage, from 2010; and a couple from in between. The finest of these is one of Ridgway’s best-known songs, “Camouflage,” a Vietnam ghost story that never gets old, even when you know the surprise ending.
The thing I like most about this album is that it’s far more upbeat than the comparatively somber Neon Mirage, an album made following the deaths of several of Ridgway’s loved ones. Like the title character of his new album, Ridgway seems eager to cause a little trouble here. And it sure sounds good.
Blog Bonus: Enjoy this video of a couple of songs from Mr. Trouble
July 6, 2012
The first time I saw Stan Ridgway touting Mr. Trouble on Facebook, he referred to it as a “four-song EP.” That was just a couple of months ago. Somehow, the project kept growing, and by the time it made it to CD form, the darn thing had become a 10-song, 45-minute album.For those keeping score, there are six new songs here plus four live tracks — all of which are taken from Ridgway’s 2010 appearance on the Mountain Stage radio show. So what we have here isn’t really an album but two EPs occupying space on one disc.
This raises an interesting question: who cares?
Whether it’s an album or EPs (or a breath mint or a candy mint), Mr. Trouble contains some of the best new songs Ridgway has done in years.
Ridgway 101 for the uninitiated: The first memory many longtime fans have of Stanard Ridgway is his face rising out of a pot of beans in the video for the song “Mexican Radio.” Ridgway was the singer of the Los Angeles New Wave group Wall of Voodoo. The video was an early MTV favorite — and it was far snazzier than anything A Flock of Seagulls or The Buggles ever did.
In a way, it was fitting that the Wall achieved fame through a video. The band formed in hopes of being hired to write and perform soundtracks for low-budget movies. But not long after that video — and the excellent Call of the West album, which contains “Mexican Radio” — things started falling apart, and Ridgway left to start a solo career.
After a short stint with Geffen Records, Ridgway has gone the independent route, not achieving massive fame but — with the help of his wife, keyboardist Pietra Wexstun — building a healthy cult following.
Back to the present: The first Mr. Trouble tunes that really grabbed me were the bluesy, funky, crime-jazz-tinted numbers, which hark back to Ridgway’s early solo years in the mid-’80s — when critics were calling him a rock ’n’ roll Raymond Chandler.
“All Too Much” (no, not The Beatles’ song) is a breezy, soul-informed workout — there’s a horn section! — in which Wexstun and guitarist Rick King shine. The melody might remind you of The B-52s’ “Love Shack,” but the lyrics aren’t so idyllic. Ridgway, as he’s known to do, sings about corruption, injustice, and hard times.
“Well it’s a hot afternoon on a city street/A cop in black and strolling his beat/He hears a baby crying from a window ledge/Times are tough and people still on the edge/And there’s a gang of boys movin’ on the corner/lookin’ mean and gettin’ ready to fight/As somewhere downtown in a high-rise office a man at the bank tells you times are tight.”The title song is a swampy blues number that allows King to show off some nasty Tony Joe White licks and Ridgway to blow his distinctive harmonica. What’s that strange sitar sound you hear in the background in the first minute or so of the song?
Even better is “Gone Deep Underground,” a snappy, bass-driven sleaze-blues jumper in which Ridgway sings about institutions crumbling and various people making themselves scarce. The song is full of images of boarded-up houses, people sleeping in airport bars, and even a secret government laboratory. It also contains some of the funniest lyrics I’ve heard lately: “Sandstorm blowin’ into Phoenix can ruin a perfectly good toupee/Hey, somebody hand me a Kleenex/She’s on a crying jag that won’t go away.”
“Across the Border” might just be the prettiest and saddest song Ridgway’s ever written. It’s a wistful tune colored by what sounds like tropical marimbas. The melody is gorgeous, and I don’t think Ridgway’s voice has ever sounded better. But it’s the story he tells that will punch you in the gut. A woman carrying only a small suitcase and a cellphone is leaving her country, crossing the border to start a new life.
As she’s walking, she gets a call from her husband or boyfriend, I assume, who’s trying to change her mind. But it doesn’t work. “‘This country, it once was a jewel/In a wilderness so wild and so cruel/But now no one can fix it, everything’s broken/So I’m leavin’ tonight in this rain/And nothing can stop me, no chain/And least of all you, so don’t call me again,’ and she closed up her phone.” And then comes an unforgettable image. “She walked ahead slowly, her hands holding tight/A boy on the corner lost the string of his kite/And it blew past the red, white, and blue and into the gold, red, and green/Across the border.”
At first I assumed the protagonist is a Mexican, leaving her “broken” country to come to the good old U.S.A. But could it be that she’s an American going into Mexico? After all, the boy’s kite is apparently flying across the border into Mexico, so that’s the way the wind is blowing.
The Mountain Stage tracks are decent, if not essential, performances of acoustic-oriented Ridgway tunes, with bluegrass honcho Tim O’Brien playing fiddle. The material is drawn from Ridgway’s first solo album, 1986’s The Big Heat; his previous album, Neon Mirage, from 2010; and a couple from in between. The finest of these is one of Ridgway’s best-known songs, “Camouflage,” a Vietnam ghost story that never gets old, even when you know the surprise ending.
The thing I like most about this album is that it’s far more upbeat than the comparatively somber Neon Mirage, an album made following the deaths of several of Ridgway’s loved ones. Like the title character of his new album, Ridgway seems eager to cause a little trouble here. And it sure sounds good.
Blog Bonus: Enjoy this video of a couple of songs from Mr. Trouble
7 Temmuz 2012 Cumartesi
Quick Hit: A Love Letter to Createquity
To contact us Click HERE
You know those times when you are looking for a blog that provides you with meaty analysis on contemporary issues in arts engagement? When you wish for bloggers who were willing to write 2,000 words instead of 200? When you want someone rooted in both the business and art worlds? When you want cogent arguments with charts to back them up?
Stop looking and start subscribing to Createquity. Led by Ian David Moss of Fractured Atlas, Createquity offers weekly(ish) long format posts on arts policy, research, strategy, and funding. Ian authors the blog alongside rotating "writing fellows" who bring diverse perspectives to the table (and make it possible to issue many thousands of words per week).
Here's what I love about Createquity:
You know those times when you are looking for a blog that provides you with meaty analysis on contemporary issues in arts engagement? When you wish for bloggers who were willing to write 2,000 words instead of 200? When you want someone rooted in both the business and art worlds? When you want cogent arguments with charts to back them up?Stop looking and start subscribing to Createquity. Led by Ian David Moss of Fractured Atlas, Createquity offers weekly(ish) long format posts on arts policy, research, strategy, and funding. Ian authors the blog alongside rotating "writing fellows" who bring diverse perspectives to the table (and make it possible to issue many thousands of words per week).
Here's what I love about Createquity:
- In-depth analysis of arts research reports. Check out today's fabulous post from fellow Jackie Hasa about the new James Irvine Foundation-commissioned report on arts participation in California's Inland Empire. These posts tend to provide both a broad overview and unique insights into the meaning of new research. Every time I read one, I think "I should write about this research study too." And then I don't, because they did it so well at Createquity.
- A healthy dose of nerdiness. Like me, Ian is a former scientist, and he relishes the opportunity to apply mathematical rigor in the exploration and critique of arts research and policy. While I understand that it's not for everyone, I love the exhaustive and often technical way that he digs into topics. I also love his willingness to revisit past topics with more information, as he did after an internship at the Hewlett Foundation in 2008.
- Complex approach to topics I care about. Recently, the majority of Createquity posts focus on the topics of active arts engagement and creative placemaking. The posts share cross-discipline stories ranging from dance to classical music to public art. They are rigorous. And they generate some really interesting discussion in the comments. Ian and I are unapologetically "on the same side" in a broad sense, but he makes me realize there are additional angles and surfaces to these issues I hadn't noticed before.
- Honesty and directness. Createquity is verbose, but not circumspect. Ian and his compatriots write honestly from their own experience, and then they back it up with lots of data. Or they critique the data. Whatever their reaction to the inciting report or topic, they are authentic and clear in representing their perspectives. I often think their arguments are the best around when it comes to active arts participation, as long as your audience is willing to read long articles.
- Exposure to a broader arts world. I've lived in a museum bubble for a long time. I like having a resource that makes me more aware of what's going on with symphonies and public art and foundations. Createquity is a little heavy on the funding discussion, but the Around the Horn bullet list posts along with the longer essays help me connect with worlds beyond museums. It's a bit surprising to perceive that the American "arts" field is in as much of a bubble as the museum industry--perhaps even a smaller one. There is a very tight circle of names dropped on this blog and its relations, and I feel like Createquity is a good access point to their world. It also makes me wonder what other worlds are out there.
999: Takeover (1998)
To contact us Click HERE
Some critics have claimed that 999 (more HERE) really never had a particular point-of-view, unlike their class of '77 peers; The Sex Pistols (pro-anarchy), The Clash (pro-revolution) or The Damned (pro-smashing-it-up). Of course, when time moved on those very overwhelming points-of-view became hindrances to returning-to-form. Once you've backed off from such an all-consuming point-of-view, it's hard to just pick it back up. But for 999, with their straight-forward-but-intriguing subject matter (greed, murder, the inability to make it with girls), bouncing back after the mid-eighties-bottom-out all those artists went through was easy as one-two-three. Starting with 1993's You Us It!, 999 have released a trio of return-to-top-form albums. The middle album, 1998's Breakdown, is considered the go-to example of their on-going vitality. The guitars crackle, the rhythm section keeps a pub-rockin' beat and Nick Cash's voice remains startlingly familiar to thier glory days. On this out-of-print come-back, you get rip-roarers like "Fit Up", hang-em all put-downs like "Takeover" and even mid-tempo balladesque tracks like, "Damp With Tears". Check it out!
Tracklist
1 Takeover 2:12
2 Didn't Mean To 2:26
3 No Prisoners 3:30
4 Headcase 3:17
5 Salvage Mission 2:38
6 Fit Up 1:13
7 Out Of Our Heads 2:13
8 I Can't Wait 2:15
9 Split Personality 2:17
10 Damp With Tears 2:09
11 Edge Of The World 3:17
12 Falling 2:35
13 Really Like You 1:48
14 Jam Me Up (With Something Nice) 1:33
15 Pile Up 2:25
999 fans,
What do you make of the band's
comebacks albums, especially Takeover?
Let us know in the COMMENTS section.
Support the band!
Homepage
Amazon
iTunes
Facebook
Some critics have claimed that 999 (more HERE) really never had a particular point-of-view, unlike their class of '77 peers; The Sex Pistols (pro-anarchy), The Clash (pro-revolution) or The Damned (pro-smashing-it-up). Of course, when time moved on those very overwhelming points-of-view became hindrances to returning-to-form. Once you've backed off from such an all-consuming point-of-view, it's hard to just pick it back up. But for 999, with their straight-forward-but-intriguing subject matter (greed, murder, the inability to make it with girls), bouncing back after the mid-eighties-bottom-out all those artists went through was easy as one-two-three. Starting with 1993's You Us It!, 999 have released a trio of return-to-top-form albums. The middle album, 1998's Breakdown, is considered the go-to example of their on-going vitality. The guitars crackle, the rhythm section keeps a pub-rockin' beat and Nick Cash's voice remains startlingly familiar to thier glory days. On this out-of-print come-back, you get rip-roarers like "Fit Up", hang-em all put-downs like "Takeover" and even mid-tempo balladesque tracks like, "Damp With Tears". Check it out!
Tracklist
1 Takeover 2:12
2 Didn't Mean To 2:26
3 No Prisoners 3:30
4 Headcase 3:17
5 Salvage Mission 2:38
6 Fit Up 1:13
7 Out Of Our Heads 2:13
8 I Can't Wait 2:15
9 Split Personality 2:17
10 Damp With Tears 2:09
11 Edge Of The World 3:17
12 Falling 2:35
13 Really Like You 1:48
14 Jam Me Up (With Something Nice) 1:33
15 Pile Up 2:25
999 fans,
What do you make of the band's
comebacks albums, especially Takeover?
Let us know in the COMMENTS section.
Support the band!Homepage
Amazon
iTunes
V.A. Powerpearls (1979-1982) Volume One
To contact us Click HERE
(Cover scans by Roberto)
A quick history from one of the Powerpearls creators:
Volume One of Powerpearls is stellar set of mod-punk-power-pop-new-wave ravers that, while predominantly of UK origin, also includes other European nations, some Commonwealthers like Canada and New Zealand and a couple of American bands.
* Everyday, Everyway (Really Thirds, UK, 1981, from only 7")
* One Out All Out (Straight Up, UK 1979, from only 7" [split with Justin Case])
* Feel The Pain (Bureaucrats, Canada, 1980, from only 7")
* Language School (Tours, UK, 1979, from 1.7")
* Modern Time (Gents, Germany, 1980, from 2.7")
* One Last Night (Atlantics, UK, 1979, from only 7"?)
* Nora's Diary (Jimmy Edwards, UK, 1979, from 1.7")
* That Girl (Techtones, New Zealand, 1980, from 1.7")
* Who's Kissing You (Famous Players, UK, 1980, from only 7")
* Fashion (Tweed, France, 1979, from only 7")
* It Doesn't Bother Me (Distractions, UK, 1979, from 2.7")
* Playing With Fire (TV21, UK, 1980, from 1.7")
* The Kids Are Dancing (News, USA, 1978, from only 7")
* It's Your Birthday (Fastbacks, USA, 1981, from 1.7")
* Susan's Day (Rousers, Holland, 1980, from 3.7")
* No Fear (Squares, UK, 1978, from 1.7")
* Liberty (Small World, UK, 1982, from 1.7")
* Blast The Pop! (Local Heroes, UK, 1980, from only 7")
This re-furbished, re-upped series need to be re-enforced by some reactions (i.e. COMMENTS) from you, dear re-readers!
Powerpearls Vol. 1 is HERE
(Cover scans by Roberto) A quick history from one of the Powerpearls creators:
The comps started back in 1998 with #1 and ended 2003 with #10. There was another one planned called "Best of Powerpearls", but was not realized due to less interest of the customers.
You might know the Killed by Death and Bloodstains compilations, which were focused on punk rock in the 90's. We thought it's a good idea to give people an idea of the more poppy part of punk. The idea was to release just one track of every band. There was much interest in punk and power pop record collection end of the 90's. Extremely high prices were paid for the original records. For example the Fingers on PP #4 reached $3000-4000.
It's good to know that there are still a lot people around who love the music. Nowadays it's so easy with mp3, no vinyl to need...
Cheers
i.
Volume One of Powerpearls is stellar set of mod-punk-power-pop-new-wave ravers that, while predominantly of UK origin, also includes other European nations, some Commonwealthers like Canada and New Zealand and a couple of American bands.
* Everyday, Everyway (Really Thirds, UK, 1981, from only 7")
* One Out All Out (Straight Up, UK 1979, from only 7" [split with Justin Case])
* Feel The Pain (Bureaucrats, Canada, 1980, from only 7")
* Language School (Tours, UK, 1979, from 1.7")
* Modern Time (Gents, Germany, 1980, from 2.7")
* One Last Night (Atlantics, UK, 1979, from only 7"?)
* Nora's Diary (Jimmy Edwards, UK, 1979, from 1.7")
* That Girl (Techtones, New Zealand, 1980, from 1.7")
* Who's Kissing You (Famous Players, UK, 1980, from only 7")
* Fashion (Tweed, France, 1979, from only 7")
* It Doesn't Bother Me (Distractions, UK, 1979, from 2.7")
* Playing With Fire (TV21, UK, 1980, from 1.7")
* The Kids Are Dancing (News, USA, 1978, from only 7")
* It's Your Birthday (Fastbacks, USA, 1981, from 1.7")
* Susan's Day (Rousers, Holland, 1980, from 3.7")
* No Fear (Squares, UK, 1978, from 1.7")
* Liberty (Small World, UK, 1982, from 1.7")
* Blast The Pop! (Local Heroes, UK, 1980, from only 7")
This re-furbished, re-upped series need to be re-enforced by some reactions (i.e. COMMENTS) from you, dear re-readers!
Powerpearls Vol. 1 is HERE
V.A. Powerpearls (1979-1982) Volume Two
To contact us Click HERE
(Cover scans by Roberto)
Another stellar set of mod-punk-power-pop-new-wave ravers that while predominantly of UK origin, also includes lots of European and American bands not to mention the series' first Australian one.
* Got To Have Pop (Moderns, Sweden, 1979, from 1.7")
* Teen Line (Shivvers, USA, 1980, from only 7")
* Diamonds In The Rough (Vertebrats, USA, 1981, from only 7")
* Don't Take Her Away (Go, USA, 1980, from only 7")
* Ghost Of A Chance (Blades, Ireland, 1981, from 2.7")
* Kirjoituksia Kellarista (Kollaa Kestaa, Finland, 1979, from 3.7")
* Too Cool To Dance (Names, UK, 1980, from only 7")
* Show Her You Care (Strangeways, UK, 1978, from 1.7")
* Dumb Blonde (Jags, UK, 1980, from 2.7")
* Pill Girl (Vogue, Austria, 1981, from 1.7")
* Breakdown (Toys, UK, 1980, from only 7")
* Just Want Your Attention (Protex, N. Ireland, 1978, from 1.7")
* Rock Show (Excel, UK, 1979, from 1.7")
* Killing Time (Leftovers, Australia, 1980, from only 7")
* The Original Mixed Up Kid (Various Artists, UK, 1980, from only 7")
* Chica del Metro (Telegrama, Spain, 1982, from only 7")
* Ole Hyva Nyt (Ratsia, Finland, 1979, from 1.7" [and 1.LP])
* Fun (Longport Buzz, UK, 1980, from First Offenders compilation LP)
This re-furbished, re-upped series need to be re-enforced by some reactions (i.e. COMMENTS) from you, dear re-readers!
Powerpearls 2 is HERE
(Cover scans by Roberto)
Another stellar set of mod-punk-power-pop-new-wave ravers that while predominantly of UK origin, also includes lots of European and American bands not to mention the series' first Australian one.
* Got To Have Pop (Moderns, Sweden, 1979, from 1.7")
* Teen Line (Shivvers, USA, 1980, from only 7")
* Diamonds In The Rough (Vertebrats, USA, 1981, from only 7")
* Don't Take Her Away (Go, USA, 1980, from only 7")
* Ghost Of A Chance (Blades, Ireland, 1981, from 2.7")
* Kirjoituksia Kellarista (Kollaa Kestaa, Finland, 1979, from 3.7")
* Too Cool To Dance (Names, UK, 1980, from only 7")
* Show Her You Care (Strangeways, UK, 1978, from 1.7")
* Dumb Blonde (Jags, UK, 1980, from 2.7")
* Pill Girl (Vogue, Austria, 1981, from 1.7")
* Breakdown (Toys, UK, 1980, from only 7")
* Just Want Your Attention (Protex, N. Ireland, 1978, from 1.7")
* Rock Show (Excel, UK, 1979, from 1.7")
* Killing Time (Leftovers, Australia, 1980, from only 7")
* The Original Mixed Up Kid (Various Artists, UK, 1980, from only 7")
* Chica del Metro (Telegrama, Spain, 1982, from only 7")
* Ole Hyva Nyt (Ratsia, Finland, 1979, from 1.7" [and 1.LP])
* Fun (Longport Buzz, UK, 1980, from First Offenders compilation LP)
This re-furbished, re-upped series need to be re-enforced by some reactions (i.e. COMMENTS) from you, dear re-readers!
Powerpearls 2 is HERE
V.A. Powerpearls (1979-1982) Volume Four
To contact us Click HERE
(Cover scans by Roberto)
Yet one more stellar set of mod-punk-power-pop-new-wave ravers that while still UK-centric, doesn't neglect the rest of Europe or North America.
(Yay, Canada!)
* Words (Tunnelrunners, UK, 1981, from 1.7")
* Playing Bogart (23 Jewels, UK, 1979, from 1.7")
* Your I's Are Too Close Together (Elevators, UK, 1980, from only 7")
* Downtown (Cuban Heels, UK, 1978, from 1.7")
* Isolation (Fingers, USA, 1977, from only 7")
* That's Just...Someone That I Knew (Singles, Australia, 1980, from 2.7")
* Living In The 80's (Blue Peter, Canada, 1979, from Test Patterns For Modern Living 12" EP)
* Ett Gevar I Min Hand (Diestinct, Sweden, 1981, from 1.7")
* One Way Love (Innocents, UK, 1980, from only 7")
* I Don't Wanna Cry (Keys, UK, 1981, from 3.7")
* Do Dead People Tan? (X-Conz, USA, 1981, form only 7")
* Geneva Street (Geneva, UK, 1980, from only 7")
* Ice Age (Babij Jar, Norway, 1981, from 1.7")
* Gimme Cigarettes (Cigarettes, USA, 1978, from only 7")
* Won't You Be My Girl (Vice Creems, UK, 1978, from 1.7")
* X-Ray Proofed (Princes of Peace, Holland, 1980, from only 7")
* Takeaway Love (Resistors, UK, 1980, from only 7")
* You're A Hit (Strate Jacket, UK, 1979, from only 7")
This re-furbished, re-upped series need to be re-enforced by some reactions (i.e. COMMENTS) from you, dear re-readers, OTHERWISE IT WILL BE TIME FOR A POWERPEARL PAUSE.
Powerpearls Vol. 4 is HERE
(Cover scans by Roberto) Yet one more stellar set of mod-punk-power-pop-new-wave ravers that while still UK-centric, doesn't neglect the rest of Europe or North America.
(Yay, Canada!)
* Words (Tunnelrunners, UK, 1981, from 1.7")
* Playing Bogart (23 Jewels, UK, 1979, from 1.7")
* Your I's Are Too Close Together (Elevators, UK, 1980, from only 7")
* Downtown (Cuban Heels, UK, 1978, from 1.7")
* Isolation (Fingers, USA, 1977, from only 7")
* That's Just...Someone That I Knew (Singles, Australia, 1980, from 2.7")
* Living In The 80's (Blue Peter, Canada, 1979, from Test Patterns For Modern Living 12" EP)
* Ett Gevar I Min Hand (Diestinct, Sweden, 1981, from 1.7")
* One Way Love (Innocents, UK, 1980, from only 7")
* I Don't Wanna Cry (Keys, UK, 1981, from 3.7")
* Do Dead People Tan? (X-Conz, USA, 1981, form only 7")
* Geneva Street (Geneva, UK, 1980, from only 7")
* Ice Age (Babij Jar, Norway, 1981, from 1.7")
* Gimme Cigarettes (Cigarettes, USA, 1978, from only 7")
* Won't You Be My Girl (Vice Creems, UK, 1978, from 1.7")
* X-Ray Proofed (Princes of Peace, Holland, 1980, from only 7")
* Takeaway Love (Resistors, UK, 1980, from only 7")
* You're A Hit (Strate Jacket, UK, 1979, from only 7")
This re-furbished, re-upped series need to be re-enforced by some reactions (i.e. COMMENTS) from you, dear re-readers, OTHERWISE IT WILL BE TIME FOR A POWERPEARL PAUSE.
Powerpearls Vol. 4 is HERE
5 Temmuz 2012 Perşembe
"The GC" - Shame On You NZ On Air
To contact us Click HERE
Shame, shame, shame on you New Zealand On Air. Like everyone with half a brain in this country, I find it appalling that New Zealand On Air used tax-payer money to fund a show as disastrously vacuous at The GC. A misplaced point mentioned by some on my Newstalk ZB talkback show was, "if you don't like it, don't watch it." I agree! Bad TV shows have existed since the beginning of TV, but what is different is that New Zealand On Air funded The GC to the tune of $420,000.
The GC is yet another Julie Christie production that instead of aiming to enhance New Zealand culture arguably subtracts from it; just think of the Christie-led decline of This Is Your Life with its nadir being a tribute to rugby legend Jonah Lomu in the form of the less than golden triumvirate of NZ Idol winners Lummis, Vai and Saunoa singing a third rate Faith Hill song There You'll Be that had nothing to do with him. Of course viewers deserved better, but so too did the most famous rugby player we've ever produced.
And if people watch these shows and they can sell advertising around it, then we are all the dumber for it and who can blame them for making television that makes them a profit. So let them make a pseudo-reality show (pseudo because large chunks are clearly scripted) about young Kiwis partying and sleeping around on the Gold Coast, but for crying out loud, don't help with the funding.
Worst of all, here is how the show was originally explained by NZ On Air:
"The TV3 series will explore emigration from a Maori perspective and how Tikanga Maori supports them as they adapt to life in a new country."
Compare that to TV3's recent publicity: "The GC follows the lives of a group of talented and attractive young Maori as they work hard and play even harder in Australia's favorite playground, the glittering Gold Coast."
New Zealand On Air has lost its way and in the same year that TVNZ7 is getting the chop, it is more vital than ever it gets an overhaul.
UPDATE - MAY 17:
Oh my gosh! The dust is settling! The show still sucks, but I feel sorry for the cast. On top of that, the reaction to The GC has become infinitely more interesting than the show itself - read about it here.
Shame, shame, shame on you New Zealand On Air. Like everyone with half a brain in this country, I find it appalling that New Zealand On Air used tax-payer money to fund a show as disastrously vacuous at The GC. A misplaced point mentioned by some on my Newstalk ZB talkback show was, "if you don't like it, don't watch it." I agree! Bad TV shows have existed since the beginning of TV, but what is different is that New Zealand On Air funded The GC to the tune of $420,000.The GC is yet another Julie Christie production that instead of aiming to enhance New Zealand culture arguably subtracts from it; just think of the Christie-led decline of This Is Your Life with its nadir being a tribute to rugby legend Jonah Lomu in the form of the less than golden triumvirate of NZ Idol winners Lummis, Vai and Saunoa singing a third rate Faith Hill song There You'll Be that had nothing to do with him. Of course viewers deserved better, but so too did the most famous rugby player we've ever produced.
And if people watch these shows and they can sell advertising around it, then we are all the dumber for it and who can blame them for making television that makes them a profit. So let them make a pseudo-reality show (pseudo because large chunks are clearly scripted) about young Kiwis partying and sleeping around on the Gold Coast, but for crying out loud, don't help with the funding.
Worst of all, here is how the show was originally explained by NZ On Air:
"The TV3 series will explore emigration from a Maori perspective and how Tikanga Maori supports them as they adapt to life in a new country."
Compare that to TV3's recent publicity: "The GC follows the lives of a group of talented and attractive young Maori as they work hard and play even harder in Australia's favorite playground, the glittering Gold Coast."
New Zealand On Air has lost its way and in the same year that TVNZ7 is getting the chop, it is more vital than ever it gets an overhaul.
UPDATE - MAY 17:
Oh my gosh! The dust is settling! The show still sucks, but I feel sorry for the cast. On top of that, the reaction to The GC has become infinitely more interesting than the show itself - read about it here.
John Banks On His Cabbage Boat - Proof At Last
To contact us Click HERE
This photo is thanks to Newstalk ZB listener Ben Cunningham who heard me say on last night's episode of The 2 (with Pam Corkery) that someone needed to photoshop John Banks onto a cabbage boat. Ben sprung into action and produced this photo, which with benefit of the doubt to both Ben and Banks, may in fact be real.
One thing's for certain, if Banks' memory is so shot he can't remember helicopter rides to $30 million dollar mansions, we must forgive him if he also forgets that hypothetical cabbage boat cruises were indeed real. Maybe Kim Dotcom sorted him a discount on the cabbage boat? Receipts will be published soon.
Just in case you've missed the (cabbage) boat on all this, when refusing to answer any of Paul Holmes' questions on Q&A regarding the Kim Dotcom / anonymous donation scandal, Banks decided to make up a saying on the spot: "I think you think I came up the river on a cabbage boat."
This photo is thanks to Newstalk ZB listener Ben Cunningham who heard me say on last night's episode of The 2 (with Pam Corkery) that someone needed to photoshop John Banks onto a cabbage boat. Ben sprung into action and produced this photo, which with benefit of the doubt to both Ben and Banks, may in fact be real.One thing's for certain, if Banks' memory is so shot he can't remember helicopter rides to $30 million dollar mansions, we must forgive him if he also forgets that hypothetical cabbage boat cruises were indeed real. Maybe Kim Dotcom sorted him a discount on the cabbage boat? Receipts will be published soon.
Just in case you've missed the (cabbage) boat on all this, when refusing to answer any of Paul Holmes' questions on Q&A regarding the Kim Dotcom / anonymous donation scandal, Banks decided to make up a saying on the spot: "I think you think I came up the river on a cabbage boat."
HIV-Positive Child Told To Stay At Home - The Story Of Paul Michael Glaser, The Original Starsky
To contact us Click HERE
Last night on Newstalk ZB we not surprisingly discussed the disturbing story of the four-year old boy in Whangerei told to stay at home from his childcare centre for being HIV-positive. While the centre has refuted some of the allegations against them (including saying he was never expelled and that his removal was to get a "care plan" in place), what is undeniable is that our attitudes to people with HIV and AIDS have somehow reverted back to how they were in the 1980s.
Why do we let our ignorance drive our fears and choose not to arm ourselves with facts? The family of this child have been suffering what sounds like a good old fashioned witch-hunt, with fliers breaching their privacy being sent out to the community and some parents allegedly even harassing the older siblings of the child regardless of the fact they aren't even HIV-positive.
But what if they were? Does anyone in this community care that in the history of the world (a phrase I'm not adverse to using to when it suits) that there are no recorded cases of child-to-child infections of HIV at childcare centres? Fact. Though facts sometimes get in the way of a good moral panic and with permanent markers already drawn and placards waiting for ill-informed slogans to be written, this community in Whangerei has rightfully become a national embarrassment.
The one good part of the story is that it reminds the pessimistic that sometimes things in this world do get better. Rates of mother-to-child HIV infections are reducing around the globe and those fortunate enough to have access to the right HIV medications are no longer facing a death sentence. An unexpected result of this is that we have become complacent in the need to educate people on the realities of this disease.
I mentioned on my show how in broadcasting you have the unique opportunity to do things with either a positive or negative influence. On a station like Newstalk ZB, you have a pretty big megaphone and without being too earnest, and I try to remind myself of that. It would be easy to get disillusioned how some people in the industry, namely former mayors of medium-sized towns, forget just how privileged they are to have a voice and to use that only for destructive ends is un-empathetic, narrow-minded and to what benefit?
With that in mind, I reminded people of the work of Paul Holmes in the 90s in bringing the story of Eve van Grafhorst to the mainstream. A young Australian girl who ultimately succumbed to AIDS, Eve and her mother Gloria were virtually forced to abandon Australia, such was the prejudice against them. Relocating to New Zealand a quarter of a century ago, they found a public willing to replace their fears and ignorance with knowledge. As the country's pre-eminent broadcaster, Holmes brought Eve's courageous story to the public consciousness and changed attitudes to HIV and AIDS in New Zealand in the process.
In the years since though, I guess some of us forgot. Or maybe, some of us were born too late. So kudos to the Campbell Live team for breaking this story, kudos to Paul Holmes for educating anyone with a TV in the 90s and extra kudos to the original Starsky (from Starsky & Hutch) Paul Michael Glaser. Alongside his wife Elizabeth Glaser, the two of them were at the forefront in America in the 80s and 90s in raising HIV awareness and some have even gone so far as to say they did more than anyone in the States in leading the dramatic reduction of mother-to-child infection rates.
It's a story I've told a few times on-air, but in case you haven't heard it, click here to read my feature article about my time in LA in 2006 with Paul Michael Glaser as he discussed losing not only his wife to AIDS, but his daughter as well; amongst the most important interviews I've ever done.
 |
| Paul Michael Glaser |
Why do we let our ignorance drive our fears and choose not to arm ourselves with facts? The family of this child have been suffering what sounds like a good old fashioned witch-hunt, with fliers breaching their privacy being sent out to the community and some parents allegedly even harassing the older siblings of the child regardless of the fact they aren't even HIV-positive.
But what if they were? Does anyone in this community care that in the history of the world (a phrase I'm not adverse to using to when it suits) that there are no recorded cases of child-to-child infections of HIV at childcare centres? Fact. Though facts sometimes get in the way of a good moral panic and with permanent markers already drawn and placards waiting for ill-informed slogans to be written, this community in Whangerei has rightfully become a national embarrassment.
The one good part of the story is that it reminds the pessimistic that sometimes things in this world do get better. Rates of mother-to-child HIV infections are reducing around the globe and those fortunate enough to have access to the right HIV medications are no longer facing a death sentence. An unexpected result of this is that we have become complacent in the need to educate people on the realities of this disease.
I mentioned on my show how in broadcasting you have the unique opportunity to do things with either a positive or negative influence. On a station like Newstalk ZB, you have a pretty big megaphone and without being too earnest, and I try to remind myself of that. It would be easy to get disillusioned how some people in the industry, namely former mayors of medium-sized towns, forget just how privileged they are to have a voice and to use that only for destructive ends is un-empathetic, narrow-minded and to what benefit?
With that in mind, I reminded people of the work of Paul Holmes in the 90s in bringing the story of Eve van Grafhorst to the mainstream. A young Australian girl who ultimately succumbed to AIDS, Eve and her mother Gloria were virtually forced to abandon Australia, such was the prejudice against them. Relocating to New Zealand a quarter of a century ago, they found a public willing to replace their fears and ignorance with knowledge. As the country's pre-eminent broadcaster, Holmes brought Eve's courageous story to the public consciousness and changed attitudes to HIV and AIDS in New Zealand in the process.
In the years since though, I guess some of us forgot. Or maybe, some of us were born too late. So kudos to the Campbell Live team for breaking this story, kudos to Paul Holmes for educating anyone with a TV in the 90s and extra kudos to the original Starsky (from Starsky & Hutch) Paul Michael Glaser. Alongside his wife Elizabeth Glaser, the two of them were at the forefront in America in the 80s and 90s in raising HIV awareness and some have even gone so far as to say they did more than anyone in the States in leading the dramatic reduction of mother-to-child infection rates.
It's a story I've told a few times on-air, but in case you haven't heard it, click here to read my feature article about my time in LA in 2006 with Paul Michael Glaser as he discussed losing not only his wife to AIDS, but his daughter as well; amongst the most important interviews I've ever done.
Robin Gibb Dies - The Fight For The Bee Gees' Legacy
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I heard the news about Robin Gibb yesterday without even reading his name or that of the Bee Gees. On holiday in Bali, I borrowed a friend's iPhone and checked my Facebook for the first time in a couple of days and saw I had dozens of notitifications of condolences. The first one I read said "I heard the news and I thought of you instantly," and in that instant, I also knew immediately they would be talking about Robin.
In a way I feel honoured that when people hear the Bee Gees they might think of me. I have always worn my love of the brothers Gibb on my sleeve and have shamelessly preached their good news with a kind of evangelical fervour. To be linked with them in people's minds is something I'm thankful for. Because in the history of popular music, only John Lennon and Paul McCartney have had more success as songwriters than Barry, Robin and Maurice Gibb.
Ever since Robin's cancer was revealed (and particularly when he went into a coma) I've been thinking about the mother of the Bee Gees, Barbara Gibb. This is a lady who in her 92 years has outlived not only her husband (with Hugh passing away in 1992) but also three of her sons: Andy in 1988, Maurice in 2003 and now Robin in 2012. The sacrifices that this family have made to bring this music to the world are enormous. On the one hand Barbara Gibb can feel pride and gratitude in everything her sons achieved, but was it worth it for all the heartache?
But life isn't meant to be lived thinking about things beyond our control. Robin recently said that maybe the tragedies his family have faced is some sort of karmic balance for all their incredible successes. Maybe. Though I don't believe the universe operates that way. The rain falls on us all.
Indeed, it is the challenges that in many ways shaped the Gibbs in terms of songcraft and even their legacy. If they hadn't fallen on tough financial times (and the boys weren't getting into a few scrapes with the law), they would have probably never left the UK and moved to Australia in the 1950s. If the brothers hadn't struggled to make friends in school, they wouldn't have had the same singular and insular drive. If even though Barry was the most in demand songwriter in Australia in the mid-60s (despite still being in his teens), they initially could barely get hits themselves, they probably wouldn't have gone back to England in 1967.
If infighting hadn't driven the brothers apart in the late 60s, it wouldn't have paved the way for the timeless emotion of songs like Lonely Days and How Can You Mend A Broken Heart. If their career hadn't hit a brief stylistic rut in the early 70s, they wouldn't have reinvented themselves as mid-late 70s R&B Gods. If American radio hadn't turned their back on them in the 80s, they may not have written full albums for the likes of Barbra Streisand, Jimmy Ruffin, Dionne Warwick, Kenny Rogers and Diana Ross.
Those challenges gave them the drive to never give up. In 1987 the had the biggest hit in all of Europe for the year with You Win Again, deciding it was time to be "The Bee Gees" again. They even returned to the US top 10 in 1989 with One - more than a decade after Fever. Their 1993 hit For Whom The Bell Tolls not only hit the UK top 5, but went number one across South America. And best of all, their 1997 album Still Waters sold millions around the world, including the States - the same year they won a Brit lifetime achievement award and were inducted into the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame.
Barry once said the Bee Gees were the "enigma with the stigma." When you consider this is a band who sold over 200 million records, who wrote 21 different songs to make US or UK number one, who had massive hits in five consecutive decades, who've been covered by everyone from Nina Simone to Richard Ashcroft, who could write ballads (Massachusettes), soul (To Love Somebody), country (Islands In The Stream), rock (Idea), gospel (Bury Me Down By The River), blues (When The Change Is Made), folk (Sun In My Morning), funk (Love You Inside Out), R&B (Stayin' Alive), disco (Night Fever), Motown-pop (Chain Reaction), Euro-pop (Embrace), orchestral symphonies (Be Who You Are) and of course, pure, brilliant pop (Alone), it is ridiculous that this was ever true.
No other act has had to fight as hard for their legacy than the Bee Gees, but it was worth the fight and in my mind, informed some of the pathos (not to mention innovation) that is at the heart of the best Gibb songs. The statistics are staggering and you can read more here about their scarcely believable triumphs (like having five songs in the US top 10 in the same week), but for now, let's focus on the music. Robin and Barry were the tension and the spark and Maurice was the glue. Their voices have a familial blend, though individually were remarkably different. Just as Barry's falsetto is one of the most recognizable in music, Robin's soulful vibrato is virtually without peer.
Here is the song which many Bee Gees fans feel is the finest work they released in the 90s. So much of what makes the Bee Gees great is to the fore: An unforgettable title; a massive chorus, with unusual verse and bridge structures; Barry singing in both falsetto and natural voice; three part background harmonies topped with a powerful Robin lead. And unlike the parody Meaningless Songs In Very High Voices, this song really does means something:
When the lonely heart breaks
It's the one that forsakes
It's the dream that we stole
And I'm missing you more
And the fire that will roar
There's a hole in my soul
For you it's goodbye
And for me it's to cry
For Whom The Bell Tolls
Robin Gibb: 1949-2012
I heard the news about Robin Gibb yesterday without even reading his name or that of the Bee Gees. On holiday in Bali, I borrowed a friend's iPhone and checked my Facebook for the first time in a couple of days and saw I had dozens of notitifications of condolences. The first one I read said "I heard the news and I thought of you instantly," and in that instant, I also knew immediately they would be talking about Robin.In a way I feel honoured that when people hear the Bee Gees they might think of me. I have always worn my love of the brothers Gibb on my sleeve and have shamelessly preached their good news with a kind of evangelical fervour. To be linked with them in people's minds is something I'm thankful for. Because in the history of popular music, only John Lennon and Paul McCartney have had more success as songwriters than Barry, Robin and Maurice Gibb.
Ever since Robin's cancer was revealed (and particularly when he went into a coma) I've been thinking about the mother of the Bee Gees, Barbara Gibb. This is a lady who in her 92 years has outlived not only her husband (with Hugh passing away in 1992) but also three of her sons: Andy in 1988, Maurice in 2003 and now Robin in 2012. The sacrifices that this family have made to bring this music to the world are enormous. On the one hand Barbara Gibb can feel pride and gratitude in everything her sons achieved, but was it worth it for all the heartache?
But life isn't meant to be lived thinking about things beyond our control. Robin recently said that maybe the tragedies his family have faced is some sort of karmic balance for all their incredible successes. Maybe. Though I don't believe the universe operates that way. The rain falls on us all.
Indeed, it is the challenges that in many ways shaped the Gibbs in terms of songcraft and even their legacy. If they hadn't fallen on tough financial times (and the boys weren't getting into a few scrapes with the law), they would have probably never left the UK and moved to Australia in the 1950s. If the brothers hadn't struggled to make friends in school, they wouldn't have had the same singular and insular drive. If even though Barry was the most in demand songwriter in Australia in the mid-60s (despite still being in his teens), they initially could barely get hits themselves, they probably wouldn't have gone back to England in 1967.
If infighting hadn't driven the brothers apart in the late 60s, it wouldn't have paved the way for the timeless emotion of songs like Lonely Days and How Can You Mend A Broken Heart. If their career hadn't hit a brief stylistic rut in the early 70s, they wouldn't have reinvented themselves as mid-late 70s R&B Gods. If American radio hadn't turned their back on them in the 80s, they may not have written full albums for the likes of Barbra Streisand, Jimmy Ruffin, Dionne Warwick, Kenny Rogers and Diana Ross.
Those challenges gave them the drive to never give up. In 1987 the had the biggest hit in all of Europe for the year with You Win Again, deciding it was time to be "The Bee Gees" again. They even returned to the US top 10 in 1989 with One - more than a decade after Fever. Their 1993 hit For Whom The Bell Tolls not only hit the UK top 5, but went number one across South America. And best of all, their 1997 album Still Waters sold millions around the world, including the States - the same year they won a Brit lifetime achievement award and were inducted into the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame.
Barry once said the Bee Gees were the "enigma with the stigma." When you consider this is a band who sold over 200 million records, who wrote 21 different songs to make US or UK number one, who had massive hits in five consecutive decades, who've been covered by everyone from Nina Simone to Richard Ashcroft, who could write ballads (Massachusettes), soul (To Love Somebody), country (Islands In The Stream), rock (Idea), gospel (Bury Me Down By The River), blues (When The Change Is Made), folk (Sun In My Morning), funk (Love You Inside Out), R&B (Stayin' Alive), disco (Night Fever), Motown-pop (Chain Reaction), Euro-pop (Embrace), orchestral symphonies (Be Who You Are) and of course, pure, brilliant pop (Alone), it is ridiculous that this was ever true.
No other act has had to fight as hard for their legacy than the Bee Gees, but it was worth the fight and in my mind, informed some of the pathos (not to mention innovation) that is at the heart of the best Gibb songs. The statistics are staggering and you can read more here about their scarcely believable triumphs (like having five songs in the US top 10 in the same week), but for now, let's focus on the music. Robin and Barry were the tension and the spark and Maurice was the glue. Their voices have a familial blend, though individually were remarkably different. Just as Barry's falsetto is one of the most recognizable in music, Robin's soulful vibrato is virtually without peer.
Here is the song which many Bee Gees fans feel is the finest work they released in the 90s. So much of what makes the Bee Gees great is to the fore: An unforgettable title; a massive chorus, with unusual verse and bridge structures; Barry singing in both falsetto and natural voice; three part background harmonies topped with a powerful Robin lead. And unlike the parody Meaningless Songs In Very High Voices, this song really does means something:
When the lonely heart breaks
It's the one that forsakes
It's the dream that we stole
And I'm missing you more
And the fire that will roar
There's a hole in my soul
For you it's goodbye
And for me it's to cry
For Whom The Bell Tolls
Robin Gibb: 1949-2012
Bee Gee Robin Gibb's Sad, Beautiful Funeral
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A few hours ago Bee Gee Robin Gibb was finally laid to rest with his funeral in Thame in Oxfordshire. The only surviving Gibb brother Barry spoke and spoke beautifully, his voice trembling with emotion. Barry talked of his brother's "magnificent mind and beautiful heart," who was forever changed by the loss of his twin Maurice nearly 10 years ago. Barry said, "When you're twins, you're twins all your life. You go through every emotion....and now they're together."
Looking at the funeral, it looks like the farewell Robin so richly deserved. I always felt the funeral of Maurice back in 2003 represented a family shattered and reports that there was no music, no prayer and that family members were so grief-stricken they arrived late only added to the heartbreak. With Robin it was no less sad an occasion, but like the man itself, it had beauty.
This was evident from the stately horse-drawn glass carriage, with the immaculate black horses bringing Robin's white coffin through the streets of Thame to St Mary's Church. Fans were welcomed to line the streets to watch the procession, which included Robin's wife Dwina and children Spencer, Melissa and RJ as well as Barry's family and extended close friends like Sir Tim Rice and David English. The Gibbs have already said there will be a public memorial service for Robin in September, but the fact they invited the public to the funeral procession was a warm gesture acknowledging the fans. To me, it's clear Barry also found this acceptance of the public's grief for his brother deeply cathartic.
During his eulogy he had this to say about the people who'd turned up to pay their respects: "I think there are an awful lot of things happening right now that maybe you won't be aware of. And one is how many people came on such a terrible day. It is staggering.
"So many people loved this boy, so many illustrious people are here that loved him. And that is such a pleasure to witness. The three of us have seen a lot of crowds but I've never seen so much love in one crowd as I'm looking at today."
Robin's body entered the church to the sounds of the Bee Gees How Deep Is Your Love and during the service there were also the Gibb songs Don't Cry Alone and I Started A Joke as well as hymns Jerusalem and Be Thou My Vision. The Lord's Prayer was read and Robin's wife Dwina also presented a poem she'd written My Songbird Has Flown. Alongside words from the vicar the Reverend Alan Garratt (who led the service with Barry), Robin's youngest son RJ also spoke, saying his father would "always only be a song away."
The Bee Gees were a phenomenon. A songwriting team who stayed at the top of the charts across five decades. 220 million records sold. 21 different songs as songwriters to hit US or UK number one. A back catalogue of well over 1000 songs. More than 20 official studio albums. More than 6000 cover versions of their songs with everyone from Nina Simone to Elvis to the Smashing Pumpkins to Wyclef Jean recording their work.
And now that they're down to the last Gibb brother, I go back to when I first became a fan. I was eight years old and music was already my life. I lived and breathed it and was even at that age a Bruce Springsteen, Simon and Garfunkel, Stevie Wonder, Michael Jackson and Cliff Richard fan. I can remember being obsessed with music on television and always wanting to stay up and watch concerts. It was 1989 and the Bee Gees One For All concert was on TV and I can still remember the image of the three figures on-stage, with the two bearded guys either side of the slight guy in the middle who occasionally held his hand to his ear while he sang. I'd never heard melodies like it. Song after song captivated the eight year version of me and 23 years later, nothing has changed.
The Bee Gees wrote so many songs that are poignant in times of loss, like Spirits Having Flown (1979), For Whom The Bell Tolls (1993), Wish You Were Here (1989), Songbird (1975) and How Can You Mend A Broken Heart (1971). But sometimes it's nice to highlight songs which wear their melancholy a little more implicitly. Here is a song which like a number of Gibb songs, has a hard to explain spirituality. Maybe it is the arc of a life being divided into verses describing the morning, the daytime and the evening. Maybe it's the sweetness of the melody. Maybe it's the otherworldly harmonies. Maybe it's because teenagers shouldn't be able to write songs this good unless there's a little divine intervention. Who knows? That's the magic of Barry, Robin and Maurice Gibb. Here is a song they wrote in 1965, re-recorded in 1970, Morning Of My Life:
This article used various overseas newspapers as source material, though primarily the Sydney Morning Herald and mirror.co.uk - many thanks.
 |
| Barry Gibb laying a rose for brother Robin |
Looking at the funeral, it looks like the farewell Robin so richly deserved. I always felt the funeral of Maurice back in 2003 represented a family shattered and reports that there was no music, no prayer and that family members were so grief-stricken they arrived late only added to the heartbreak. With Robin it was no less sad an occasion, but like the man itself, it had beauty.
This was evident from the stately horse-drawn glass carriage, with the immaculate black horses bringing Robin's white coffin through the streets of Thame to St Mary's Church. Fans were welcomed to line the streets to watch the procession, which included Robin's wife Dwina and children Spencer, Melissa and RJ as well as Barry's family and extended close friends like Sir Tim Rice and David English. The Gibbs have already said there will be a public memorial service for Robin in September, but the fact they invited the public to the funeral procession was a warm gesture acknowledging the fans. To me, it's clear Barry also found this acceptance of the public's grief for his brother deeply cathartic.
During his eulogy he had this to say about the people who'd turned up to pay their respects: "I think there are an awful lot of things happening right now that maybe you won't be aware of. And one is how many people came on such a terrible day. It is staggering.
"So many people loved this boy, so many illustrious people are here that loved him. And that is such a pleasure to witness. The three of us have seen a lot of crowds but I've never seen so much love in one crowd as I'm looking at today."
Robin's body entered the church to the sounds of the Bee Gees How Deep Is Your Love and during the service there were also the Gibb songs Don't Cry Alone and I Started A Joke as well as hymns Jerusalem and Be Thou My Vision. The Lord's Prayer was read and Robin's wife Dwina also presented a poem she'd written My Songbird Has Flown. Alongside words from the vicar the Reverend Alan Garratt (who led the service with Barry), Robin's youngest son RJ also spoke, saying his father would "always only be a song away."
The Bee Gees were a phenomenon. A songwriting team who stayed at the top of the charts across five decades. 220 million records sold. 21 different songs as songwriters to hit US or UK number one. A back catalogue of well over 1000 songs. More than 20 official studio albums. More than 6000 cover versions of their songs with everyone from Nina Simone to Elvis to the Smashing Pumpkins to Wyclef Jean recording their work.
And now that they're down to the last Gibb brother, I go back to when I first became a fan. I was eight years old and music was already my life. I lived and breathed it and was even at that age a Bruce Springsteen, Simon and Garfunkel, Stevie Wonder, Michael Jackson and Cliff Richard fan. I can remember being obsessed with music on television and always wanting to stay up and watch concerts. It was 1989 and the Bee Gees One For All concert was on TV and I can still remember the image of the three figures on-stage, with the two bearded guys either side of the slight guy in the middle who occasionally held his hand to his ear while he sang. I'd never heard melodies like it. Song after song captivated the eight year version of me and 23 years later, nothing has changed.
The Bee Gees wrote so many songs that are poignant in times of loss, like Spirits Having Flown (1979), For Whom The Bell Tolls (1993), Wish You Were Here (1989), Songbird (1975) and How Can You Mend A Broken Heart (1971). But sometimes it's nice to highlight songs which wear their melancholy a little more implicitly. Here is a song which like a number of Gibb songs, has a hard to explain spirituality. Maybe it is the arc of a life being divided into verses describing the morning, the daytime and the evening. Maybe it's the sweetness of the melody. Maybe it's the otherworldly harmonies. Maybe it's because teenagers shouldn't be able to write songs this good unless there's a little divine intervention. Who knows? That's the magic of Barry, Robin and Maurice Gibb. Here is a song they wrote in 1965, re-recorded in 1970, Morning Of My Life:
This article used various overseas newspapers as source material, though primarily the Sydney Morning Herald and mirror.co.uk - many thanks.
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