Thursday 6 December 2007

Seaside Town in January


Seaside town in January
Washed away by the rain
Blown away by the wind
Seagulls drifting over the beach
The only sign of life

Slowly
Very slowly
I'm saying goodby
Leaving the country
That now feels like home to me

Just hours before I cross the sea
Leaving this country behind
Washed away by the rain
Blown away by the wind

(2002)

Thursday 22 November 2007

Deserto Rosso


A gloomy industrial landscape in grey. Right in the middle, a woman walks along with her little son, both in colourful jackets, green and yellow. Colours that stand out from the background, colours that shine - but the contrast shows the distance between the characters and their surroundings...

Michelangelo Antonioni's first film in technicolor leaves no doubt that the director used the new technical possibilities on purpose - and to a great effect. Throughout the film, the colours play a major role in creating an atmosphere and reflecting the characters' moods. The film's central figure is Giuliana, wife of a factory owner in northern Italy and mother of a little son. Allegedly traumatised after a car crash, she is strangely distant, totally alienated from the outside world and her usual life, controlled by fear. She wants to open up a shop but has no idea what to sell. She seems confused and estranged from her surroundings. Soon she finds herself in an affair with Corrado, her husband's colleague, who gives her all the attention and interest she doesn't get from her husband. Their conversations evolve around her remoteness from the world, and it turns out that there is much more to the "accident" than is apparent at first sight...

What remains is the question whether things could be different in a different place. Corrado's never bound to one place, always on the move. A restless soul who keeps wandering about, always hoping to find what he's missing in his life. Giuliana is more rooted in her place, the thought of leaving, which comes up at some point, remains just a thought, deep inside she probably knows that what troubles her will not simply disappear just by leaving (Besides, leaving what? The town? The country? Life itself?). The tristesse, the undefinable fear is within us, a part of our lives in this world. Giuliana begins to accept that - not coming to terms with it but somehow trying to get on with her life and the neverending struggle against the alienation, the fear, the noises in her head, the hollow emptiness that has taken over her life.

The protagonist's desolation is mirrored perfectly by picture and sound. The grey landscapes and industrial sites - often in blurred vision to emphasise the distance between Giuliana and the world around her - the monotonous hummung of machines that seem like voices in her head. Just by watching, one can feel what she must feel like. At the same time, the perfect
arrangement of colours - with bright, shining colours often contrasting the grey - is highly impressive. A masterpiece both in its content and its visuals.

Thursday 25 October 2007

Martha

Hectic
as she lights her cigarette
obediently smoking outside

Desperate
as she reaches for the phone
craving for social contact

Paranoid
as she screams at his sight
as if he were to kill her

Resigned
as she constantly gives in
follows his tactical lectures

Principles unquestioned
Rebellion refused
Her own home – hell on earth


(2007, inspired by the film "Martha" by R.W. Fassbinder)

Monday 15 October 2007

Friday 12 October 2007

Impressions...

Impressions I (Merthyr Tydfil, South Wales, August 2004)

Driving south – no sun in the sky
Rainclouds hiding the blue
The town appears
Out of nowhere
Behind the hill
Terraced houses in parallel lines
Spreading all over the valley
Snaking up the hills in sleepy desolation
Once the biggest town in the country
Now degraded to the size of a village
Almost oblivious of its former glory
They say it's a ghost town now
Half deserted and half asleep
Its people betrayed by history
Deprived of their dreams of a brighter day

--------------------------------------------------------------------------


Impressions II (Cardiff, August 2004)

Raindrops and city lights
Never go to sleep
No idea where I'm going
North or South, East or West
No sign to indicate the way
Will my restless soul arrive one day?
Rows of houses
Illuminated windows
Thousands of people I still haven't met
Thousands of people I want to know
Will I wander around forever
Looking for THE place to stay?

Thursday 11 October 2007

Meant for the Stage

The Decemberists live in Berlin, 30/09/07



(In a desperate attempt to write a review with some kind of wannabe-professional approach, I gave up halfway though because I noticed that it was impossible for me to write about the Decemberists in this neutral, analytical style. I'd seen them twice before, each concert ending in an outburst of enthusiasm and addiction to listen to each of their albums on end. I'm too big a fan of their music to write about their concert as if I was a music journalist. So here comes my second attempt - impressions from the perspective of a dedicated fan.)

The support act, Canadian 3-piece Land of Talk, opened the set with great charm and lovely tunes. As with Two Gallants on their 2005 tour, the Decemberists proved to have a good taste in choosing their support acts. When the Decemberists appeared on the stage, the lights revealed a beautiful illustration by Carson Ellis: a little Japanese village with a crane flying away – actually, a picture from the band's recent LP „The Crane Wife", and a very original visual background for the songs, most of them from this album. The band opened the set with the title song „The Crane Wife 1&2", a song based on a Japanese folk tale and a shining example of Colin Meloy's truly poetic songwriting style.



Without any additional musicians this time, the band still easily managed to transfer the complexity of the songs to a live scene – no wonder with several multi-instrumentalists in the group, especially Chris Funk, who seemed to be able to play every instrument he could get his hands on: guitars, the violin, the banjo, and one bizarre instrument I'd not seen before (this must be a hurdy-gurdy, I guess?). Jenny Conlee on keyboards and accordion - the instrument that makes up a considerable part of the band's unique sound – also had an opportunity to show her singing skills, in „Yankee Bayonet" and the „Mariner's Revenge Song", where she sang the part of the suffering widow with such a melancholic passion that one could think she'd really lived through the story herself. Drummer John Moen also turned out to be a highly gifted singer whose background singing added to the gorgeous melodies, and bassist Nate Query played both bass guitar and upright bass as if it was the easiest, most natural thing in the world. And of course, singer and guitarist Colin Meloy sounded as gorgeous live as he does on the records – he could probably sing to me about anything, and I'd listen patiently, indulging in his melodies and storytelling. Even after having heard the songs very often, they still strike a chord within me, move me – especially when played live. „Eli the Barrow-Boy", for example, one of the most beautiful and sad songs I've heard. Or „O Valencia" from the recent album – at the concert, the song provoked two very strong and very contradictory emotions in me: a deep sadness evoked by the tragic story, and at the same time an incredible euphoria about the music and the joy of being there. It was one of these moments – realising why music means so much to me. And just like the other Decemberists concerts before, this one showed that - apart from their musical and lyrical genius - all the individual band members are unique personalities with a charismatic stage presence and the skill to relate to their audience. So the last song of the regular set - „I Was Meant fot the Stage" - turned out to be more than true once again.


After the last song ended in a massive feedback of noise, the Berlin crowd was still demanding for more – understandably so. The band returned to play two more songs: „Bandit Queen" with Colin alone on acoustic guitar, and finally a Decemberists classic, „The Mariner's Revenge Song". Following a little lecture about marine biology in general and whales in particular, we learned how to scream when swallowed by a whale, in order to provide this special effect at the crucial point in the song, when exactly this happened to our vengeful protagonist. Again I enjoyed the absurd brilliance of the story („Don't know how I survived, the crew all was chewed alive, I must have slipped between his teeth. But oh what providence, what divine intelligence, that you should survive as well as me...") and the accordion sound evoking a longing to be at some seaside place. A 'grande finale' to a marvellous concert that filled me with enough enthusiasm and inspiration to last for weeks. I still have these beautiful tunes in my head and I'm already looking forward to the next time the Decemberists return to cloudy Berlin.