why a big suit needs to be seen and heard in stereo down on Mono
...it's been a big weekend in terms of high cultchuh here for yours truly in Fresberg..
I must confess a passion for the Talking Heads since the late seventies, saw Stop Making Sense when it came out at the Theatre of the Living Arts in Philadelphia,(yes, they used to show films there, kids,)... and was enthralled along with the rest of the crowd...
Over Twenty Odd Years ago, today, that David Byrne and the band did play, (sorry, Beatlesque things still happening from 'Trike last night..)
I drove on a beautiful afternoon, down to a section of town that puts on the look of a silent, sleepy siesta in stucco on the busiest of days... I love this section... it's got a desolate beauty that combines the loudest Christian Science Reading Room with a Clint Eastwood Spaghetti Western..
Never been to Corridor 2122 (I think that's the name of it,) before...
I opened the door, a few minutes late, hoping that they would have started a bit behind sched...
Regrettably, one of the most important documentary films, where a man starts with a boom-box, a guitar, and then builds an entire stage and band, --never, I think, stopping to even drink a glass of water,-- was already in full swing.. (Rent this thing, watch this thing, dance to it, and own it,,, Demme created a masterpiece, and T Heads are captured in all their quirky glory...)
I've had a big life... lots of noisey things, lots of high production extravaganza's splashed across the big screen of the old orbs...
This however, was a white room, (excellent patched cracks in the ceiling,) and a small white podium, with a DVD gizmo, two small speakers, --several simple (yet elegant stacker chairs,) and about a half dozen to a dozen folks, all sitting there in the dark watching the film...
It wasn't loud.
There were no stacks of marshall amps, no throngs of art students, (all dressed in retro-clothing and rockabilly hair cuts, singing along like it was a live show...)
Nope.. this was history presented as history... (not history in the making...that was when it was first released.)
This was an exhibit.
-Though I'm older now.. still wear chuck hi-tops, but older...
I must at first admit feeling a bit, well, quieted by it...
This was NOT an overwhelming presentation... (and I've seen this film probably a dozen times, fallen to sleep to it once or twice...)
-but I sat there, in a Yankees vintage T-Shirt, and just did what I always do, tried to focus on the film, and then watched the people there...
I think, maybe it wasn't supposed to be loud.
I caved.
It's hard for me to sit still during the 'Heads playing... (I feel music and can't help but move anyway,,, thank God I don't embarass easily,, it looks like I have St. Vitus Dance...)
But this piece is amazing... The backdrops, the projections, the lighting changes, Tina Weymouth, synchronized performance that rivalled the best Chinese Water Ballet,,,
elegance, a lot of movement, and sweat.
-Two of the most amazing and beautiful back up singers ever to swing their hair at each other like crazed barbie dolls in a fight presented by a seven year old acting out punch and judy...
Muppets don't move this good...
-The Suit... the blessed suit taken from Asian Theatre, (before we knew what Asian Theatre was,,,)
-and David, dancing with the floor lamp, and moving about the stage in a manner that refused to let you believe that there were NOT strings suspending the man from Jack LaLaine's Id...
And there I was, flopping around, thumping along quietly, laughing to the visual (...such as in naieve melody ('home,') where they show tryptich images of furniture, body parts, and then two elegant torso's flanking what I think must be the leg of a chimpanzee or one of those guys you see at the beach who look like they are wearing a sweater with their shirt off...)
It all came back... It all was excellent...
It went from 'something from then,'
-to revisiting a time when people grooved to cross-cultural rhythms, and funk went to artschool...
All too soon, it was over.
The lights went up, and we (the room had grown to about twenty,) applauded, and walked around...
And I found myself, once again wandering the collective studio spaces, completely blissed out in the scent of Turpentine and linseed oil, projects underway, lots of smeary images, and a bathroom that was itself an installment, having several excellently positioned polaroids of toilet articles, pushpinned right above a toilet...
Ya see, THAT's what people don't get... there is humor and design and contrast, and peace and creativity that is enjoyed every freakin' moment by an artist...
-The color white (actually not a color,) is sacred.
-The faint light seeping behind a heavy vinyl drape is luminus, and the silence and reveal of an artist's studio, is to some, (even the religious,) sanctuary, elements of prayer, and church...
-Paper on the floor to an artist is not garbage... it could mean something, it could make you appreciate the change of surface, -or the shaping of the crush against old polished stone...
We were invited to just look around, so I did...
I found myself in a space, shared by a husband and wife team... (the husband may have been the big dude who was on the cel phone who walked out the side door to continue talking... sorry bro, didn't mean to intrude, --I liked the Deuchaump Quote on yer wall though...)
-the woman, who has at least one work fashioned in dress form using paper, charcoal, and other materials, greeted me as I was standing there and said it was okay that I was looking at stuff...
-(Her portraits captured her own sheer contrasts quite well...)
Still, I feel awkward in other's studios,,, it's like standing in a room where the smell of love still hovers, it's too private, it's very, very, vulnerable and bare...
I've not painted, really painted in years, and it's like, walking around on a nude beach, when everyone else is bare-assed and fine with it, -but I'm still sitting there in a tweed blazer and khaki's...
Sometimes, I don't feel worthy to be around others who are creating when I've not been...
This place, however, is a small parish, these are the monks who are studying, and in worship, and their own process, open to the viewer, does things to those who care to feel...
Twenty Four years ago, I wandered my own stone floors, covered in grumbacher, smoking cloves, far too absorbed in the event of it all to really focus and make the best use of what was, even then, high tuition...
Now, older, hair thinning, and a body that in no way resembles the one I modeled with and walked around in,,,
-these spaces and scents call...
-dusty things down under tarps, which sat in milkcrates out in the snow covered sheds of my various lodges, (all thrown away before I moved west,,) whisper.
-I destroyed them, burned them in huge bonfire that went for days.
Because I was moving to California, getting married, starting a new life, and simply did not have room in the pickup...
But, as with all crucifixion, death, resurrection, and ascencion, the material, destroyed, releases Spirit, the Spirit drifts and resonates, free from the crates, of the paper, the vine charcoal and hairspray that trapped the lines of the body of a nude Moore student, who craved a small space heater and drank hot tea when she was allowed to put her robe on,,, (now probably someone's wife, someone's mom, her own long ago.... I held her, there on yellowing newsprint, since 1982... forgive me,,,)
It joins the unison, as I silently mouth the words... 'and you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile, In another part of the world, and you may ask yourself, well, how did I get here?...'
Clinging the quiet aroma of media on paper, it's becoming apparent. The Things which I destroyed released the past, -it's time to create new, -present physique be damned...
We need to see films like 'Stop Making Sense,' I need this stimuli, I need this granite to dance,
'...out of all these kinds of people, you have a face with a view, and I'm just an animal looking for a home, and to share the same place for a minute or two...'
-These old tools, shown by the monks with grey hairs, and smell of tobacco, compel and remind that we will always have the responsibility to do good work...
The congregation of this studio are honoring that vexation...
Thank you for having me.
-(apologies to Rademacher, I had to get home and work on a project due this week,,, -raincheck requested..)
And B..., it was a pleasure to see you again, you are such a classic beauty, and a sweet soul, you will be hauntingly beautiful until you're a hundred and three, Vermeer would have loved you.
-and I hope this summer the bard provides the opportunity to capture the passion, flutter, and glory of your actors. Bodies draped by you are to be envied, the fibers making each other jealous at your calling... Thanks for saying hello.
Where is Pierre Robere (Peter Roberts) now
Does anyone know what Pierre is doing now? I am not in Philly much any more.
Always loved South St...great place to walk and carry a beer in the early to mid 80's.
uh, mah, gawd...
Well, Meg, (can I call you meg, Meg?)
I romped around Phila. by way of the Phila. Col. of Art. (student, painting major,) from '82 to '85 (center city,) --and then lived up in Montgo. County, (Temple Ambler,) and then over in Lower Bucks (Southampton/Middletown,) until '96... truly a great town,, that now has a bunch of skyscrapers that just plain weren't allowed (there was a law until the Mid-Nineties that you could not build a building any taller than Wm. Penns. Hat (on city hall.)
--there is also this major cross over highway from '95 to the Blue Route that is very recent...
Theatre of the Living Arts used to have seats in it.. a lotta seats.
Across from the place was this really really cool newspaper/magazine/genreal weirdness store that had these totally funky little stamped tin buttons, (among other things,) as well as a tabby cat (dark tiger stripe,) that weighed in at,,, I'm guessing 30 to 35 lbs... As the cat was fond of sleeping on newspapers on the lower rack, if you wanted a copy of Warhol's 'INTERVIEW,' and the cat was kersnoozin there,,, you just came back another day.
TLA used to show a lot of classic films, foreign films, (I saw Fannie and Alexander, Das Boot, various MadMax films, etc. etc.) and would have these incredible runs and catalogues that actually made sense.. like all of John Water's movies,(and he'd come out sometimes to introduce them,,, Bergman films, Hitchcock... and it was this really cool, kind of semi-tea house sort of place... you'd go in walk up the steep sloping carpet, passed the 1940's burgandy cloth wallpaper , through the drapes, and boom, buy a small bag of popcorn, buy an Elliot's Apple Juice or iced tea, and just sit down and wait for the show... As we were all starving artists,,, it was basically cheap, -and had a full screen, (as in big..) image and pretty honkin' speakers...
I think one of the greatest experiences I've ever had in a movie theater,,, in my life, actually was at the TLA...
I mean, we were just having a good time trying to be cool and go with our friends and just chill, but aside from the afore mentioned 'Stop Making Sense' (which was a total rush,,, I mean, imagine that thing playing to a full screen, and nearly all of the audience singing along and into the same vibe...) We had hand gestures, and we were'nt afraid to use them...
They also ran Rocky Horror consistantly every weekend... (nothing like standing there next to your RA, he's wearing a pair of fishnets and a red boa and black leather teddy, and everybody's screaming 'lips.'
--but I digress...
One of the most amazing experiences I've ever had amidst a large group of people, (few hundred,,,) aside from anything in church,,, would have to be when they showed 'Koyaanisqatsi.'
This film, (1983) has no dialogue in it whatsoever... It's a continual flow (fast, slow, stop motion, low speed, etc,,,) of just everyday images from all walks of life,,, it's traffic patterns, buildings coming down, skyscapers, portraits of people just standing there, nature,,, you name it.. and the whole thing is played over a score by Phillip Glass (minimalist,)
It's electronic music, horns, chants, monks, I really can't describe the film accurately, other than to say that you have to see it yourself and see it with a good set of speakers... It's both numbing and exhilirating...
-The line on the thing was that a guy came out of a monastary, grabbed a video camera, and just started shooting whatever he saw -as well as incorporated stock footage. (You can still get this thing at Borders...) There have been two subsequent films done in the same style, (all three with Philip Glass,) --but the coolest thing has GOT to be when Glass and his ensam. do it LIVE at the Brooklyn Art Museum, and show the film at the same time,, (He's grown more comfortable with the piece, and it flows better... -I didn't see it when I lived back east, but I know he just did it (again,) last summer or so...)
---If you can imagine, watching this film, the place is simply crawling with artists and musicians,,, and the final scenes are playing, the organ notes are slowly rolling,,, and the monks begin to chant.. Imagine a theatre full of people all sitting there nobody breathing, just staring and completely emptied by what they had just gone through.... the film ended and the place erupted... It was amazing...
(if you don't see this film you are missing something, I promise you...)
Strangely enough, the TLA did pretty good showing movies, (I recall at least two to three different films per night,,) and had a lot of mini-festivals,,, -all pretty artsy, --and there really was no way to see a bad film... great musty old fabric chairs, sticky floor, the works.... They used to hand out these free multi-colored, (usually two different ones on a white background,) calanders that did the whole month,,, and you knew which month you had by the colors that they new... Totally great illustrations and mini photos in the day blocks... They had all sorts of concert films, (Gimme Shelter, the Last Waltz, etc,) as well as animated stuff, ancient horror films, you name it... (I don't recall too many westerns,,, but then again,,,, I wasn't looking for them, either...)
-They even had films where they brought out one of the guys who used to play at the silent films, and he'd accompany them on organ... (this dude was old,,, but rocked the joint,,, how cool is that...)
They opened a smaller venue (Roxy Screening Room,) on the west side of Phila, not real far from the Art Museum, that actually was built like three or four small screening rooms... maybe 40 to 50 seats, max, a smaller screen,,, but you could go there and see some of the same films, (or those that were better in an 'Intimate,' setting.)
Regrettably I only saw the re-release of Metropolis (colorized, with found footage and Queen soundtrack... (not the best of films, actually,) ---and, um, borrowed a 'Stop Making Sense,' poster from the Marquis one night after having a bit too much Heineken...
I found out that TLA had been relieved of her seating one night, (years later, like 1995,) when I went to go see Ben Folds Five open for Sonia Dada... and had heard of the show one day while listening to WXPN.. (88.5 ---probably the greatest station on the planet, -sooooo worth streaming if you care to... I mean, I've heard nothing out of NewYork that has rivalled this thing...)
Anyway, I walked in and the place was this huge room, cement floor, and no chairs...
Ben Folds came out, (this was way before 'Brick,') and they were just starting up.... Sonia had been out for a little while,, --both sets were spectacular...
I'd like to say that the transition went well... (which it did,) but having such a large, great venue to show films, --and the stuff that they showed,,, I've never seen anything like it... It was our own little paradise, -within walking distance...
Other good clubs in Phila. (music wise,) were North Star Bar, and the Tin Angel.
The Philadelphia Folk Festival is also tremendous, -and has a lot of great blues/R-B/and early Rock Acts...
-there are a few other things that you may not know, that may surprise you about Philalah-lah-lah.
There was a radio station 93.3 WMMR. (there is also 94.1 WYSP, but that was always more of a Metal station, and had Howard Stern,)
It was a great classic and general rock format... (had great tunes at one time..)
They had a DJ, (Jon DeBella) --who unfortunately had a wife come to a bad end, (never solved the crime, I don't think,) --anyway, DeBella, as well as Pierre Robere (Peter Roberts, very swishy, serious Dead Head,) had these great shows, and were pretty zaney guys...
They had this thing for 'Louie-Louie,' (the song..)
DeBella got this idea, to have the 'worlds longest Louie-Louie'... so he actually set it up,,, and it was a whole parade of floats, marchers, singers, people on kazoos,,, you name it,,, all walking along playing 'Louie-Louie'... It went through the heart of down, and was pretty amazing... I think they did it a few years in a row...
He also had this big bash each year, live bands, costumes, etc. called the DeBella DeBall.
Bands to have come from this time were: Tommy Conwell and the Young Rumbles, Ken Kweder and the Lost Planet Airmen, Robert Hazard and the Heroes, the Hooters, the Beru Revue, and this weaselly little pouffed hair guy called Jon Bonjovi
--further reference,, we went to this one bar (the Pine Street Beverage Room,) because they (A.) didn't card us, and (B.) Sally (the bartender,) used to have on videotapes of MTV, -which just had come out,,, and we'd watch TAPED hours of that... (Thriller by Michael Jackson had just hit.)
You already know about Mummers and New Years day... not going there..
The whole line up of clubs down on Front Street is a relatively new thing... in the Eighties and early nineties -none of them were there, It was all docks and nasty yards and stuff... no clubs, zip, zed, nada... (with exception of the Moshulu boat/restaurant... (you could sneak up to the top deck with a date, just lie there looking at the sky and, um, talk... all night long...
South Street actually, (in terms of the parts where you could walk along and just window-shop/hang out, whatever... was really only safe from the bottom (down near Front,) to about only half way up to BroadSt.. It was initially very gritty, and pretty rough, -but very very cool.
You used to have to cut down Spruce, (about to where you'd be hitting Old City,) or go down Pine, (ditto,) and then cut over low down on the street... If you tried to just make a left onto South from Broadway and walk down, you were likely to mugged, stabbed or shot... (the projects were not far from there, and the area was really dangerous... I knew a guy who got machete'd (he lived, but had a lot of stitches..)
There was this incredible club called 'the Love Club' or Club Love... It was down (I think,) on Pine and Broad... It truly was one of the great punk clubs of the area... They had local artists do cartoons on regular colored 8.5x11 paper,, and the promotional ads would be put all over the place on telephone poles and stuff... they had some pretty excellent acts come through (we'd collect the ads and use them to decorate our dorms with... very very excellent thick black drawings on vivid hues...total underground comix) One night some idiot burned the place down,, and it was never rebuilt... (I don't think this is where 'the Art Bank' is... it was a block lower...
The present Univ. Arts building (the big one with the columns,) used to be an institute for the deaf and dumb, (which also was an insane asylum,) ---was refurbished and made into offices and Dorms by the early Eighties,,, --and is extremely haunted... (I used to work security for the complex...)
I don't know if Utrecht is still there, (Broad and Spruce,) but that building (about 19 stories tall,) used to be the Col. of Art, and Highschool for performing arts... it was convereted back to office space in the mid eighties... (done Art Deco style,,,) also a very cool building,,, -also very haunted..
What is now the Univ. of Arts main building used to be actually an indoor garage for armoured trucks...
---and in between this building, -and the dance Studio used by the Univ. (also by the highschool,) is a building that was the headquarters for Jesse Jackson when he ran for president,,, --and the dance studio building was the headquarters for Barry-Gordy (founders of a lot of Mo-Town acts...)
A lot of the homeless people would also pose as nude models for the classes, -and then we'd see them out in front of the Theatre next to the Art School, selling pretzels to the rich folks coming in to see the shows... (we didn't say nothin..)
As a girl, you could move into South Philly, (which was extremely Italian,) and be safe as could be... Everybody would know your business, --but you'd have tons of very big older brothers (with no neck,) looking out for you... (if you know what I mean...)
--and, as Artists, we'd make our way over to the UPenn territory, find a frat party, and steal their women and beer signs... (and shout open invitations to um, talk, to the dorms of Moore College of Art,,, as they were all female, and we were,, (or so we thought,) ALL male..
-I highly recommend the film 'Birdie,' with Nicholas Cage and (Matt Modine?) with a score by Peter Gabriel... (it's of 60's-70's Philly, but it's a great time Capsule... also good is 'Witness,' (Harrison Ford,) -which was shot while I was in school.
metal heart, you aren't hiding, metal heart, you aren't worth a thing... I once was lost, but now am found, was blind but now I see... (CatPower)
theater of the living arts
it must have been awesome to see films at the tla. having only spent the last four years near philadelphia i have, of course, only seen rock shows there. i'd be interested if you were to write a little more about your experience seeing shows there.
True Stories
completely loved that movie... also had a soudtrack done by totally different people on the film, -but not on album...
metal heart, you aren't hiding, metal heart, you aren't worth a thing... I once was lost, but now am found, was blind but now I see... (ChanMarshal:CatPower//Amazing Grace)
David Byrne's white paper
you wrote: "Ya see, THAT's what people don't get... there is humor and design and contrast, and peace and creativity that is enjoyed every freakin' moment by an artist..."
I think you may be mistaken...in the first bit of the sentence. YOU get it. But I'd wager....not all the time and in all places.
I think people get glimpses of it. At least whenever I've been in that state of mind that's receptive to the "humor,contrast,peace,creativity" around us, it's unfortunately, been short-lived. It's an "in-tune-ness" that I wish I had constantly rather that the short bursts and sometimes not for a long while.
Back to David Byrne:
There's a bit in "Short Stories" [for a long time one of my most favorite movies, but then after multiple watches, has become a bit like The Holy Grail became for most of us by the age of 15...we knew it too well and had sucked most of the juice out of it]
anyways....David Byrne's character is driving down the road in his big red car and musing about how when travelling to a new place everything looks different and new....even the color of white paper.
That's the sort of eyesight I wish I could sustain.
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