(lyrics © by Great Lake Swimmers)
Friday, 29 October 2010
Wednesday, 13 October 2010
As the lights go out on the final day
there is so much noise // there is so much heat
and the living floor // throws you off yout feet
as the final day falls into the night
there is peace outside // in the narrow light
(lyrics © by Young Marble Giants, pictures taken during a walk around Leipzig-Plagwitz on a grey autumn day)
Tuesday, 14 September 2010
Meals on reels
(I made this little flyer for a screening of short films about food / eating at the UT Connewitz, Leipzig)
Wednesday, 30 June 2010
Please don't spoil my day I'm miles away and after all I'm only sleeping
(I'm not LAZY. I'm waiting for INSPIRATION!)
Wednesday, 21 April 2010
The coffee cup theory
(Caffeine addiction concerns all generations. What changes is the size of coffee cups: The older you get, the smaller the cups. Young people use large mugs. // Elderly people prefer tiny cups. // Some mysteries remain: Will we, the young people, use small coffee cups some day? If so, when? Or will we still drink our coffee out of enormous mugs when we're older? And what kind of coffee cups will future generations use then?)
Tuesday, 2 March 2010
Wanna find myself by the sea...
(Another picture inspired by my trip to Wales in autumn... I wanted to take a photo of this scene, but the cat ran away, so I started drawing it instead.)
Tuesday, 2 February 2010
I lay there in front of me covered in ice
Next in my little collection of musicians... Carla Bozulich / Evangelista. She completely blew me away first with a great concert at the UT Connewitz and then with her new album "Prince of Truth". And here's some fine stuff to listen to.
Wednesday, 9 December 2009
They don't expect little grrrls to shout...
A while ago, I started drawing bands or artists I like, sometimes trying to include song lyrics. As a start, here's Gustav, who made my personal album of the year 2008. According to her Myspace site she's currently working on an ambient album with the title "Hallo Knallo!". Other pics will follow soon.
Sunday, 8 November 2009
River's edge, you're all that I have
... back from the seaside - back in the city that pretends to be a seaside town though it isn't. It's got several rivers though, which leads me on to an illustration I made earlier this year, inspired by a song by my beloved Great Lake Swimmers:
Friday, 6 November 2009
Monday, 26 October 2009
Tuesday, 15 September 2009
Shut up, I'm dreaming of places
Lazy summer's over... lots of new music and films to write about, lots of new photos and illustrations to upload. For a start, here's some impressions from Prague, where I spent a couple of days drinking a lot of good coffee and beer and taking about 300 pictures of beautiful old buildings (and other stuff). So here we go.
Tuesday, 16 June 2009
A thousand crystal towers, a hundred emerald cities
Listening to the new Bat for Lashes album "Two Suns"... time to post this picture I drew a little while ago.
Tuesday, 9 June 2009
Saturday, 30 May 2009
Monday, 25 May 2009
If I could face the music
As I've said before... this year there is SO MUCH new music to listen to, so many great albums out and many more to come. Before I forget half of it, I use this place for some middle-of-the-year listomania and collect all the faves and some stuff I should keep in mind for the next visit to the record shop...
favourite albums of the year so far:
* Animal Collective - Merriweather Post Pavillion
* Kevin Blechdom - Gentlemania
* Junior Boys - Begone Dull Care
* Great Lake Swimmers - Lost Channels
* AGF / Delay - Symptoms
* PJ Harvey & John Parish - A Woman A Man Walked By
albums I still have to get:
* Lady Sovereign - Jigsaw
* Fever Ray - Fever Ray
* Bat for Lashes - Two Suns
* Peaches - I Feel Cream
* Chicks on Speed - Cutting the Edge
* Soap & Skin - Lovetune for Vacuum
coming releases I'm looking forward to:
* Dirty Projectors - Bitte Orca
* Lord Cut-Glass - Lord Cut-Glass
* Gossip - Music for Men
* The Left Outsides - ? (don't know the title yet)
Wednesday, 20 May 2009
Tuesday, 12 May 2009
This is the place where I felt...
"This is the place where I felt
like the world's tallest self-supporting tower
at least for a little while anyway"
(Great Lake Swimmers - 'Concrete Heart', 2009)
At about the same time last year, I listened to the Great Lake Swimmers' debut album a lot. It was a time dominated by two completely different states of mind: a deep enthusiasm for my work in a cinema and an equally deep frustration with life in Halle, where I was still living at the time. I was heavily flirting with Leipzig already, going there for concerts quite often and putting a lot of future hopes in the city. It is exactly these two emotions that come up to me again when I listen to the Great Lake Swimmers now. "Moving Pictures Silent Films" is the song I strongly relate to my cinematic obsession. I picture myself alone in the dark, bringing pictures to life and enjoying every minute of it. At the same time, I see myself listening to the album late at night, longing for a new city, new people, a place where I could find all that I missed in Halle, a place where maybe I had just lived for too long...
Yesterday the Great Lake Swimmers came to Leipzig, even better: to the place that happens to be my new cinema (but also a brilliant location for live concerts). So in a way, it all made sense: the music, the place, the atmosphere - it was like pieces of a puzzle coming together. The location was perfect for the sound of the band: a bit more powerful and dynamic in a live context without losing the spheric brilliance the songs have on the records. In fact, I was a bit afraid before the show that exactly this might happen. With a classic folk rock instrumentation (guitar, upright bass, banjo, piano and drums), there often is a certain risk of sounding too much like a traditional rock band when playing live. The very same thing happened to the support band Phosphorescent, who sounded a bit too conventional in a folk-rock-country sense for my taste. And it is certainly not riffs or folk rock clichées that I expect of the Great Lake Swimmers. What I love them for, and what I think is so special about them is their mellow, restrained but still intense sound - a spirit that is hard to preserve at a concert, where most people expect to rock. Luckily, the band did'n fall into that classical live trap. This was especially apparent when directly compared to their support band. Even though the songs sounded more straightforward than on record, this didn't destroy their atmosphere. Those low-key moments, the quiet, intensity, everything I like about this band was still there.
The songs from the new album "Lost Channels" made up the largest part of the set. My highlights: the simple but gorgeous "Still", with an extremely catchy melody and beautiful lyrics that precisely express my own attitude to life, and singer Tony Dekker's solo performance of "Concrete Heart" (a song he was commissioned to write for a project about Toronto architecture, as he told us), a gorgeous quiet song that confirmed what I've always thought: cities can be highly inspiring. Perhaps not surprisingly in this location, my personal wish was also fulfilled. When I listened to the band playing "Moving Pictures Silent Films" live in 'my' cinema, it was definitely a special, beautifully intense moment for me.
Also worth mentioning is Sharon van Etten, a very interesting Brooklyn songwriter who played as the first support act of the evening. I hadn't heard of her before, but her impressive live set (just her alone on electric guitar and singing) awakened my curiosity. I'm looking forward to hearing more of her in the future. All in all, I'm glad that last night I didn't only see a band that has meant a lot to me for a while, but discovered an excellent new musician as well.
P.S.: Thanks to Woodblock for the photo.
like the world's tallest self-supporting tower
at least for a little while anyway"
(Great Lake Swimmers - 'Concrete Heart', 2009)
At about the same time last year, I listened to the Great Lake Swimmers' debut album a lot. It was a time dominated by two completely different states of mind: a deep enthusiasm for my work in a cinema and an equally deep frustration with life in Halle, where I was still living at the time. I was heavily flirting with Leipzig already, going there for concerts quite often and putting a lot of future hopes in the city. It is exactly these two emotions that come up to me again when I listen to the Great Lake Swimmers now. "Moving Pictures Silent Films" is the song I strongly relate to my cinematic obsession. I picture myself alone in the dark, bringing pictures to life and enjoying every minute of it. At the same time, I see myself listening to the album late at night, longing for a new city, new people, a place where I could find all that I missed in Halle, a place where maybe I had just lived for too long...
Yesterday the Great Lake Swimmers came to Leipzig, even better: to the place that happens to be my new cinema (but also a brilliant location for live concerts). So in a way, it all made sense: the music, the place, the atmosphere - it was like pieces of a puzzle coming together. The location was perfect for the sound of the band: a bit more powerful and dynamic in a live context without losing the spheric brilliance the songs have on the records. In fact, I was a bit afraid before the show that exactly this might happen. With a classic folk rock instrumentation (guitar, upright bass, banjo, piano and drums), there often is a certain risk of sounding too much like a traditional rock band when playing live. The very same thing happened to the support band Phosphorescent, who sounded a bit too conventional in a folk-rock-country sense for my taste. And it is certainly not riffs or folk rock clichées that I expect of the Great Lake Swimmers. What I love them for, and what I think is so special about them is their mellow, restrained but still intense sound - a spirit that is hard to preserve at a concert, where most people expect to rock. Luckily, the band did'n fall into that classical live trap. This was especially apparent when directly compared to their support band. Even though the songs sounded more straightforward than on record, this didn't destroy their atmosphere. Those low-key moments, the quiet, intensity, everything I like about this band was still there.
The songs from the new album "Lost Channels" made up the largest part of the set. My highlights: the simple but gorgeous "Still", with an extremely catchy melody and beautiful lyrics that precisely express my own attitude to life, and singer Tony Dekker's solo performance of "Concrete Heart" (a song he was commissioned to write for a project about Toronto architecture, as he told us), a gorgeous quiet song that confirmed what I've always thought: cities can be highly inspiring. Perhaps not surprisingly in this location, my personal wish was also fulfilled. When I listened to the band playing "Moving Pictures Silent Films" live in 'my' cinema, it was definitely a special, beautifully intense moment for me.
Also worth mentioning is Sharon van Etten, a very interesting Brooklyn songwriter who played as the first support act of the evening. I hadn't heard of her before, but her impressive live set (just her alone on electric guitar and singing) awakened my curiosity. I'm looking forward to hearing more of her in the future. All in all, I'm glad that last night I didn't only see a band that has meant a lot to me for a while, but discovered an excellent new musician as well.
P.S.: Thanks to Woodblock for the photo.
Monday, 4 May 2009
There is a city by the sea
... ein paar Gedanken zu Leipzigs 'nautischem Komplex'...
Leipzig liegt am Meer. Besser: Leipzig liegt zwar inmitten riesiger Landmassen, ist aber doch eine Küstenstadt. Alles Quatsch? Mag sein, aber man wird ja wohl noch träumen dürfen. So in etwa scheinen die Leipziger zu denken, während sie ihre Stadt mit nautischen Referenzen bestücken. Gleich beim Verlassen des Hauptbahnhofes geht es los: Seaside Park Hotel verkünden die Buchstaben auf dem Dach eines Hotels. Klar, hört sich einfach besser an als "Hotel am Bahnhof", was näher an der Realität dran gewesen wäre. Weiter im Süden, in der Karl-Liebknecht-Straße, ist das Hotel Seeblick. Allerdings ist es mitnichten ein Hotel, sondern eine angesagte Bar, und statt auf die See blickt man auf eine verkehrsreiche urbane Hauptstraße und lebendige Kneipenmeile. Noch ein Stück weiter südlich, am Connewitzer Kreuz, gab es mal einen Plattenladen namens Seemannsglück. Eine andere Kneipe schmückt sich mit dem Namen Anker, das hiesige Stadtmagazin wiederum heißt Kreuzer und vergibt in seinen Musikrezensionen Schiffchen statt der sonst üblichen Sterne. "Guck mal: die neue Morrissey hat 4 Schiffchen bekommen." Ein Satz, der kauzig anmutet, in Leipziger Gesprächen aber durchaus zu hören sein wird.
Richtig nautisch wird es im ehemaligen Industrieviertel Plagwitz. Kein Wunder, denn hier findet man tatsächlich viel Wasser: Elster und Luppe fließen an Plagwitz vorbei, und mitten durch das Viertel verläuft der Karl-Heine-Kanal, der an einigen Stellen fast schon für venezianisches Flair sorgt. Es war also nur eine Frage der Zeit, bis auch hier eine passende Kneipe eröffnete: das Kap West - allein der Name lässt tief blicken. Das Haus selbst erinnert, wenn man die Phantasie ins Rollen bringt, an den Bug eines Schiffs, und die kurz nach der Eröffnung kursierenden Flyer waren so gestaltet, dass einem schon beim Anschauen eine Brise frischer Seeluft um die Nase wehte. Das bekannteste Kiez-Original ist der fast schon legendäre Plagwitzer Seemann: in Matrosenkluft gewandet, die Kapitänsmütze stets auf dem Kopf und mit Megaphon in der Hand, spaziert er durch Plagwitz, während aus seinem Ghettoblaster Seemannsweisen erklingen. Mein Personengedächtnis mag mir hier einen Streich spielen, aber ich habe den Verdacht, dass sogar zwei verschiedene Seemänner im Viertel ihre Runden drehen, einer mit Vollbart, einer mit Schnauzer. Die These muss aber noch hieb- und stichfest bewiesen werden. Aber egal ob ein Kapitän oder zwei, Hafenflair kommt auf, keine Frage.
Leipzig scheint eine Art nautischen Komplex zu haben, der nicht nur mit den riesigen Seen südlich der Stadt zu tun hat, sondern auch mit dem alten unerfüllten Traum einer schiffbaren Verbindung zwischen Elster und Saale, und damit indirekt zur Elbe und schließlich zur Nordsee. Dass der heutige Karl-Heine-Kanal nie fertig wurde (ein kleines Stück fehlt bis zur Saale), hindert die Leipziger indes nicht daran, den alten Traum ("von der Elster bis zur Alster") leise, und manchmal auch etwas lauter, weiterzuträumen. (Gelegentlich verkünden Lokalblättchen Pläne, das letzte Stück des Kanals noch zu vollenden.) Die Sehnsucht zum Meer ist jedenfalls immer noch präsent in Leipzig. Teilweise sogar so sehr, dass man sich hin und wieder fühlt, als wäre man tatsächlich an der Küste. Genau das mag ich an dieser Stadt: dass sie nicht alle Sehnsüchte erfüllt, es aber schafft, immer wieder an ihnen zu kitzeln.
Leipzig liegt am Meer. Besser: Leipzig liegt zwar inmitten riesiger Landmassen, ist aber doch eine Küstenstadt. Alles Quatsch? Mag sein, aber man wird ja wohl noch träumen dürfen. So in etwa scheinen die Leipziger zu denken, während sie ihre Stadt mit nautischen Referenzen bestücken. Gleich beim Verlassen des Hauptbahnhofes geht es los: Seaside Park Hotel verkünden die Buchstaben auf dem Dach eines Hotels. Klar, hört sich einfach besser an als "Hotel am Bahnhof", was näher an der Realität dran gewesen wäre. Weiter im Süden, in der Karl-Liebknecht-Straße, ist das Hotel Seeblick. Allerdings ist es mitnichten ein Hotel, sondern eine angesagte Bar, und statt auf die See blickt man auf eine verkehrsreiche urbane Hauptstraße und lebendige Kneipenmeile. Noch ein Stück weiter südlich, am Connewitzer Kreuz, gab es mal einen Plattenladen namens Seemannsglück. Eine andere Kneipe schmückt sich mit dem Namen Anker, das hiesige Stadtmagazin wiederum heißt Kreuzer und vergibt in seinen Musikrezensionen Schiffchen statt der sonst üblichen Sterne. "Guck mal: die neue Morrissey hat 4 Schiffchen bekommen." Ein Satz, der kauzig anmutet, in Leipziger Gesprächen aber durchaus zu hören sein wird.
Richtig nautisch wird es im ehemaligen Industrieviertel Plagwitz. Kein Wunder, denn hier findet man tatsächlich viel Wasser: Elster und Luppe fließen an Plagwitz vorbei, und mitten durch das Viertel verläuft der Karl-Heine-Kanal, der an einigen Stellen fast schon für venezianisches Flair sorgt. Es war also nur eine Frage der Zeit, bis auch hier eine passende Kneipe eröffnete: das Kap West - allein der Name lässt tief blicken. Das Haus selbst erinnert, wenn man die Phantasie ins Rollen bringt, an den Bug eines Schiffs, und die kurz nach der Eröffnung kursierenden Flyer waren so gestaltet, dass einem schon beim Anschauen eine Brise frischer Seeluft um die Nase wehte. Das bekannteste Kiez-Original ist der fast schon legendäre Plagwitzer Seemann: in Matrosenkluft gewandet, die Kapitänsmütze stets auf dem Kopf und mit Megaphon in der Hand, spaziert er durch Plagwitz, während aus seinem Ghettoblaster Seemannsweisen erklingen. Mein Personengedächtnis mag mir hier einen Streich spielen, aber ich habe den Verdacht, dass sogar zwei verschiedene Seemänner im Viertel ihre Runden drehen, einer mit Vollbart, einer mit Schnauzer. Die These muss aber noch hieb- und stichfest bewiesen werden. Aber egal ob ein Kapitän oder zwei, Hafenflair kommt auf, keine Frage.
Leipzig scheint eine Art nautischen Komplex zu haben, der nicht nur mit den riesigen Seen südlich der Stadt zu tun hat, sondern auch mit dem alten unerfüllten Traum einer schiffbaren Verbindung zwischen Elster und Saale, und damit indirekt zur Elbe und schließlich zur Nordsee. Dass der heutige Karl-Heine-Kanal nie fertig wurde (ein kleines Stück fehlt bis zur Saale), hindert die Leipziger indes nicht daran, den alten Traum ("von der Elster bis zur Alster") leise, und manchmal auch etwas lauter, weiterzuträumen. (Gelegentlich verkünden Lokalblättchen Pläne, das letzte Stück des Kanals noch zu vollenden.) Die Sehnsucht zum Meer ist jedenfalls immer noch präsent in Leipzig. Teilweise sogar so sehr, dass man sich hin und wieder fühlt, als wäre man tatsächlich an der Küste. Genau das mag ich an dieser Stadt: dass sie nicht alle Sehnsüchte erfüllt, es aber schafft, immer wieder an ihnen zu kitzeln.
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