Monday, January 25, 2021

BLEU



Tonight: Trois couleurs: Bleu (1993) directed by Krzysztof Kieślowski. It's been at least 20 years since I've seen it. The colors, the lighting, the music, the mise-en-scène, the cinematography. The way the camera lingers on Juliette Binoche's face in a manner similar to Carl Dreyer's camera lingering on Renée Jeanne Falconetti'a face in La passion de Jeanne d'Arc (1928).

If there are holy works in cinema (and there are), then this is surely part of the canon.

Existential, beautiful, haunting, and, ultimately, hopeful.

Monday, January 18, 2021

RAT-A-TAT-TAT!



I've listened to the Melvins but I've never owned any Melvins albums. That may change after my two most recent album purchases: Gift of Sacrifice by King Buzzo, guitarist and vocalist for the Melvins, and Rat-a-Tat-Tat! by Dale Crover, drummer for the Melvins. They are both strange, intriguing, inviting, and, at times, challenging albums. But they are both also great albums filled with tracks that work individually and as parts of the whole.

So, some notes and thoughts on Rat-a-Tat-Tat! by Dale Crover...

 

SIDE A 

Track 1 > "Moclips"
A brief instrumental introduction that serves as harbinger/warning of what is to come. Sparse backwards vocals are joined by a backwards drum track and (backwards?) jawharp. This reminds me of the chanting of the Gyoto Monks for some reason.

Track 2 > "I Can't Help You There"
A pleasant straightforward rocker that sort of reminds me of the Butthole Surfers at their most mainstream.

Track 3 > "Tougher"
A fuzzed out, feedback-laden opening leads into a blues stomp with vocals deep in the mix.

Track 4 > "Stumbler"
Seedy saxophone skronking neo-noir leads into warbly vocals and a drum beat that pulls us along. It's essentially a jazz track with backing female vocals.

Track 5 > "Shark Like Overbite"
This is the "poppy" rock song of the album. It's about Dale's dogs. It has a driving melody line. It's joy-filled nougaty goodness that reminds me of psychedelic-tinged Big Star and the music by the 1970s Saturday morning cartoon "band" the Groovie Goolies.

Track 6 > "Supine Is How I Found Him"
Springy guitars and jawharp and percussion. It's a trippy instrumental that, like the first track, has a bit of a hypnotic, ritualistic sense about it.

SIDE B

Track 7 > "I'll Never Say"
Syrupy-slow jangly guitar lines and noodly keyboards anchor this track. If there was a "weed song" on the album, then this is it.

Track 8 > "New Pharoah"
Melodic noise. Rhythmic "prayer" with vocals.

Track 9 > "Untrue Crime"
A bluesy number I could imagine Tom Petty singing. There is also a little bit of punk rock and another little bit of ZZ Top in its bones. Maybe even some Southern rock.

Track 10 > "The Bowie Mix"
A short trippy track that is as much blues jam as anything.

Track 11 > "Piso Mojado"
A slow percussive track that some hip hop act should sample.

Track 12 > "Kiss Proof World"
This is a slow rocker that reminds me of some of the slower numbers that Pearl Jam favors. At the end it devolves into a "Moclips" coda of sorts.

For an album that I knew very little about upon entry, this is a spectacular discovery! I absolutely love it. It's got just enough weirdness in it, for my tastes, but it also just outright rocks.

I'm glad I took the leap into its grooves!

Friday, January 01, 2021

2020 II



As a reflective exercise to look back on 2020, as well as dispel a myth I was telling myself about the amount of art and writing I did in the past year (thinking that I wasn't really writing and creating much), I made a list of the various pieces that I produced and/or published. 2020 was the most fruitful year I have had as a writer and artist.



I made a linoleum block print for third anniversary of my mother's death ("Swim Free III" for her Feast Day).

I participated in my first August Poetry Postcard Festival.

I created new Inktopodes for Inktober.

I bought a turntable so I could listen to records I haven't been able to play for nearly two decades. (That also "jump started" the acquisition of new vinyl albums!)

I dabbled in new media and new styles of art.



All in all, 2020 was a year of growth and exploration when it came to art and writing.

2020



As a reflective exercise to look back on 2020, as well as dispel a myth I was telling myself about the amount of art and writing I did in the past year (thinking that I wasn't really writing and creating much), I made a list of the various pieces that I produced and/or published. 2020 was the most fruitful year I have had as a writer and artist.



One of the organizations responsible for much of that work, directly and indirectly, was Creative Colloquy.

I had three poems published by Creative Colloquy in 2020—"Warpaint Melville" in the print Creative Colloquy, Volume Six and "Death Notices" and "Funeral" published online (links below).
I also joined the Creative Colloquy editorial committee, which has afforded the joy of reading and recommending others for publication. I'm grateful to CC founder Jackie Casella and CC managing editor Elizabeth Vickstein for welcoming me aboard.

And through my involvement with Creative Colloquy the past few years, I met Jennifer Chushcoff. Jennifer issued an invitation for artists to submit pieces for consideration for The Body Beloved, The Body Betrayed exhibit she curated. My piece "Through a Glass, Darkly (after Jasper Johns)" was accepted. It was a shift in the way that I work, and a reflection on the year 2020 in its own right. Plus, it started a new series of pieces that it influenced and that I will continue working on in 2021.



"Death Notices"
https://creativecolloquy.com/death-notices-by-troy-kehm-goins/

"Funeral"
https://creativecolloquy.com/funeral-by-troy-kehm-goins/



"Through a Glass, Darkly (after Jasper Johns)"

Montana BLACK spray paint, Sharpie marker, and metallic silver paint marker on 6” x 6” wood panel. Baked polymer clay, each approximately 1.25” x 1.75”

What happens when 20/20 vision is clouded? When a year (2020) is filled with stresses that test both the mind and the body? What does one remember of a piece of art meant to inspire one’s own work (Jasper Johns. Target with Four Faces. 1955.) without a physical reference or reproduction?

Using 1 Corinthians 13:32 as a departure point, “Through a Glass, Darkly” explores the ambiguous space/spectrum that exists between mind/body, trigger/target, surveillance/witness—all the while remaining grounded in a context of global pandemic, racial injustice, police brutality, protests and counter-protests, and political and social unrest.

The three (right) eyes echo the suggested eye of the target, as well as represent the primary colors that are also the three interior circles of the target.