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Monday 30 November 2009

This needs editing

http://www.myspace.com/bitterruin

My new favourite folk/burlesque/film noir group :D

'Trust is for fools'..... well said.

Also going to see Tubelord and Future of the Left tomorrow. Expect reviews and pics!
Review of Tom's First Nut Roast:
Stodgy, moist, and almost entirely un-roasted, presumably due to an over-zealousness with liquids, extreme hunger-related impatience, and an under-heated oven. But entirely worth it for an evening of innuendo about Tom's nuts. And, it tasted great, so who's complaining?
For future reference, perhaps follow a frickin' recipe at the time of cooking.

Further to puerile humour, if someone could just make one of these every 6 months or so, i would never fear i was out of the web-o-sphere loop again. Although it's worth asking if anyone thinks some of the greats have been missed. No powerthirst or charlie the unicorn, for one thing. I challenge someone to create a dub-style choon using clips with dialogue. And for it to be good.
Anyway:

Aesthetics Debate- ish

My good ol' buddy P.E. "Patrick" Lawrence and I are gonna attempt a cross-blog dialogue (hey, that rhymes!) about Stuff that we find interesting. Here is the lecture which we're using as a starting point to our first 'debate':

Universal Theory of Aesthetics

And here are some of my notes, but not all of them, as I may need some fodder to return fire with later! I'll try not to tread on the toes of the points Patrick has/ will raise and just stick to my original interpretations and responses to what was said in the lecture.
Lecturer first introduces the German-based study of images known as 'Bildwissenschaft' - wissenschaft referring almost literally to science and Bild meaning any kind of image (racial stereotypes of brutal German-ness aside, the categorising of 'pictures' seems an interesting facet to add to the 'What is art?' debate).
Heinrich Wolfflin wanted to introduce a study of art history based on visual roots, as opposed to social or cultural influences. This means that ideally he would create an art history 'without names', which removed an individual artist and instead focussed on transformations in the mode of representation: "Vision itself has it's history".
Wollflin opposed the history of art in terms of progress, versimilitude, and imitations of nature, such as the trend for a more and more accurate mimetic approach throughout the Renaissance. It's worth noting that in both the lecture and in Wolfflin's work, the 'art' used as examples is largely from directly before or after the Renaissance, within a fairly limited time period (this is where my arguments already begin to fray at the edges).
However, Wolfflin was interested in emphasising a theory that avoided looking at art in historic progressional terms. He defined five pairs of 'fundamental concepts' with which to analyse the modes of representation possible in images (the lecture chooses to look only at the first three, so I'm putting the last two in but not saying anything about them):
1. Linear and painterly - a linear style would show lines, planes, edges, and detail not normally absorbed by the human eye. This meant that there was a certain 'textural' or tactile approach, a plastic style in which details are rendered. By contrast the painterly involves an 'impressionistic' approach (without yet involving Impressionism), according to Wolfflin worked in light and shade and by 'grouping into patches' the subject matter. This creates an overall impression of the subject without necessarily delineating particluar parts of the image: more visual semblances similar to our actual experience of vision, where we just get an overall impression of a scene.
2. Planimetric and recessional - put simply, the way the subject matter of the image is ordered in relation to the 'picture plane', the front of the image through which we perceive it, I guess (pull me up on these explanations at any point, Patrick). Thus a pre-Renaissance image might show a group of people all "flatly" adjacent to one another, creating a feeling of static tranquility, arranged stability, and order. Recessional painting focusses instead on how the elements are ordered, creating a directional flow for the eye and more energy and movement.
3. Closed form and open form - similarly to this, how the subject matter relates to the frame of the image. Pre-and-during-Renaissance would generally have a self-contained and static image with a 'stable equilibrium of parts' regulated by the boundary, and open form would again invovle a sense of movement, not dictated by the placing of the frame, and perhaps obscured or only half-visible parts of the subject matter.
4. Composite unity and fused unity.
5. Absolute clarity and relative clarity.

Wolfflin felt that history takes these modes in a necessary repeating process from linear to painterly and back again... Then Wiesing came along...
I'll move onto Wiesing soon, but let's see what Patrick has to say, if anything (let me know if you want me to put the Wiesing stuff up before you respond, dude :P).

Saturday 28 November 2009

Snoozing vs Sex

I am so sleepy, and trying to write erotica.
And also some cover-letter related stuff. I'm going to just spool some stuff out tonight and then hopefully hone the hell out of it tomorrow, then do some more honing Monday with a view to applying to specific companies.
Then, y'know, get hired, wealth, fame, women, etc etc etc.
Wahoo.

*Update to bulk this lame-ass post out*
SCARF!!!!!



Thursday 26 November 2009

In mundane news, I just scratched my eye and came away with three eyelashes. Does this symbolise anything?

Dont know if I'll have much time to write (for fun) today so here's a very old review (previously unpublished) of one of my absolute favourite bands of all time:


Streetlight Manifesto at The Camden Underworld

Stumbling in from a rain-soaked Saturday night to the illustrious dive, the Camden Underworld, the support acts of the evening (and a pint) soon loosened me up. Dan Potthast, a quirky Californian, provided caustic wit with an enthusiastic and infectiously happy demeanour (t-shirts bore the phrase “Dan sang to me”). At one point he actively encouraged audience members to heckle, so that he could sing the song he had prepared to respond to those who might question the presence of a man-with-acoustic-guitar act at a punk/ska/rock/metal gig. A hilarious start to the evening.
Next were Random Hand, pounding out ska ballads in a style only four Yorkshiremen really can. Lead Robin Leitch threw himself across the stage, physically dragging the music with him, and alternating between his vocals and the trombone with an energy which encouraged a surprising amount of crowd-surfers.
Then, the Manifesto themselves. There was less of the tension and showmanship required of a bigger venue gig, and the band casually strolled on and off stage preparing their instruments and doing sound checks, to the whoops of the audience members. As far as I’m aware, they haven’t played in England for three years, and the anticipation was tangible. As the group finally took the stage (seven in all) and stormed into ‘Would You Be Impressed?’, a vicious deluge on mortality in our pass-the-blame capitalist world, the Underworld erupted.
The synchronicity between each band member, knowing every word, every note, every drop in pace, was mirrored in the crowd, who when not pogo-ing as if their lives depended on it were roaring lead singer and guitarist Tomas Kalnoky’s acerbic song lyrics back at him. Kalnoky should win a prize for the lightning delivery of his vocals, perfectly juxtaposed with raucous backing from the others, from whom even a shouted ‘Hey!’ in the right place seemed unbearably poignant. You knew that not one of the band members would miss a note.
I have never before been to a gig where the audience not only sang along, fervently, to every single word that they possibly could, but shouted along to the melody, the harmonies of trombone, trumpet, baritone, alto and tenor sax, and physically jolted to every movement of the drum and throb of bass.
This was music at its most pure and purely felt, and you could see the band’s gratification as we roared their own songs back at them. Streetlight Manifesto are undeniably one of the most close-knit acts I have ever seen, combining impressive technical ability with camaraderie, a thrilling physical presence (yup, all seven of them), and some of the most carefully crafted, fantastically diverse song-writing possible. This is all conveyed with stunningly good humour and not a hint of ego, especially in the relatively tiny venues they frequent – I was surprised that they all fit onto the stage. Their appeal is universal, their songs intelligent, and their live shows reveal their dedication to the music they create and the message they carry. The only disappointment for me was that their set lasted one hour instead of two. All this only served to concrete an impression of a band I was already in love with.

Wednesday 25 November 2009

The 'C' Word

That's right...... "Christmas."
I've decided this year to make something cinnamon-y for my family... Possibly with root ginger or white chocolateas well, although that might be a bit of a flavour overload. I'm thinking maybe cinnamon pastries although I don't know how well they'll keep, and as I'm not going home til the 24th they have to be transportable. Cookies could be nice but aren't very seasonal. Plus I have the urge to employ the sewing machine this year so am thinking about fancier packaging than usual (Kath Kidston rip-offs perhaps? Fabric lined boxes?)
As you can tell, I'm excited about getting to spend this season not thinking about essays for once.
I'm also preparing a knitted zombie for one of my friends and a knitted hot water bottle cover for another as I finally (after a Lot of inattention) completed Sam's scarf!!!! Both zombie and hot watter bottle will be a challenge as I can barely understand pattern instructions, let alone follow them. Also I've forgotten how to cast on...
Pics shortly!

Aaaaaaaaaaaand this is my current favourite thing of which I cannot stop playing:

Tuesday 24 November 2009

Hey, all you digital design and media companies out there!!!! Hire my friend Alex. He rocks.

Also, here is a site which has cunningly gathered some of my previous reviews.

Monday 23 November 2009

Sha-woop-woop

On the days when I am especially busy and have fallen behind I shall sling up one of my old reviews that was never published anywhere but written for kicks and to preserve the glorious memories. Today, Jeffrey Lewis at the Freebutt:

Jeffrey Lewis is well-loved, and rightly should be. He is an anti-folk ass-kicking genius. Beginning his set with 'I love anti-folk', to the tune of 'I love rock 'n' roll, he is a vibrant presence. The last time I saw him he happily filled the stage, and packed out the upstairs venue, at the Komedia. Today he was simply playing two sets, a matinee and an evening, at the 150-ish capacity Freebutt. The Freebutt is a good venue, if only for its comedic value: the stage lighting is either ON or OFF, and there is a massive column bang smack in the middle of where the audience should be. Jeffrey is unphased.
Jeffrey and the Junkyard (brother Jack and drummer Dave) chose to focus largely on newer stuff, from the album 'Em Are I'. For those not familiar with Jeffrey's delivery, songs, stories, poems and slide-shows involving intensely geeky and self-referential things that interest Jeffrey, such as graphic novels and Leonard Cohen lyrics, are haphazardly woven into a magnificent and life-affirming set. Today's selection included a “traditional” detective story, and the evening's attendees were promised a story which didn't even have an ending yet. By the fourth song my face hurts from smiling – there are very few anti-folk artists who take themselves so seriously and yet are this funny. The band is coerced, by the end of the set, into performing a few golden oldies, getting a few hardcore fans rocking out to 'Whistle Past the Graveyard', 'Time Machine' and a personal favourite, 'Back when I was four'.
Lewis is all about the beautiful, whimsical, hilarious lyrical precision. He is a word surgeon – not one syllable escapes him, even when he stutters, laughs or seems to forget what he's singing entirely. Theirs is a pared-down, bare-heart sound, incongruous but far from unappreciated on a Saturday afternoon. I'm saddened I wont be staying for the evening set too, but Jeffrey is addictive, and I know whenever he and his Junkyard are back in England, I will be back for more.

Saturday 21 November 2009

My brain hurts right now

Oh, hangover..... *to the tune of 'Oh Vienna'*
Went to Komedia's Born Bad night, great fun except for all of my friends leaving at once at the end without telling me so that I found myself being chatted up by a guy called Chris who was shorter than me. bahahahha. I have gone home with someone called Chris before, but seeing as it's my brother's name I try to avoid it...
I now have guilt for trying to phone my friend at 3 in the morning, I have no idea if he was awake. It's more complicated than it seems, inappropriate time aside: this guy is a new friend and I can't really treat him like that yet, ie, phoning him at all hours when drunk. Hopefully he didn't mind and slept through it.
500 Days of Summer soundtrack is my new favourite thing. I defy you not to feel happier and sortof shimmery while listening to it. I do tend to skip straight past The Smiths to the Hall and Oates though. Hey, I've had my time as a teenager, we all know the way The Smiths are going to make you feel. I would never ever censor the arts someone chose to enjoy but my god, Morrisey, you must have caused the suicides of thousands. I'm not very certain about the version they have of 'Here Comes Your Man' either, why couldn't they use the original? Did they think it wasn't "alt" enough?

Friday 20 November 2009

Three Balloons

Today is very grey outside.
Wish I had my camera with me yesterday, I sat on the beach watching the breakers rage against the stones. Walk away with salty lips. It would have been more perfect had there not been a large amount of very foamy pollution floating around - I blame France, it all floats across from the industrial towns on the coast there.
Have been listening to a lot of Stephen Lynch lately, and by a lot I mean I put all four of his albums on yesterday and very little else. It's frustrating and I hate to admit it but he's really gone downhill. The songs have so much less of that inspired, twisted, surprising idiosyncracy which was what made them funny. They now tend to contain swearing instead, or generally far more crass humour, such as 'Medieval Bush' (too much strange imagery about having a hairy vagina) or 'America' (main argument: 'fuck you'). The 'Dear Diary' songs, while clever, contain the underlying horror of what is actually implied. Rather than joking about a fictional mentally retarded child, or a hypothetical father who likes gambling, ten dollar whores, and rubbing against little boys on the bus, the reality of what happened to Anne Frank or Christopher Reeve leaves a melancholy taste in your mouth. Certainly there's a raw edge to all of his songs, but founding them on real-life tragedy seems even more insensitive than he might have seemed before. I'm not afraid to laugh at it, nor do I think it should be in any way censored, god knows 'they' probably do, but the humour is derived from a different place now, somewhere a little bit darker and also a bit less original. That said, his latest album (3 Balloons) is a studio produced affair, whose polished vocals and backing sorely lacks the genuine charm of his live performance. He's sexy, he has a great presence and rapport with crowds, and I think recording studios forget that. Hopefully his next release, when it happens, will be live. And hopefully he'll have found some of that old inspiration, too.

Thursday 19 November 2009

Today is the day after the first day of something or other

Well, this blog was aimed at me finding out what I'm interested in. It seems currently, that isn't quite blogging. Aside from diary-keeping being a somewhat sporadic habit of mine, I haven't really thought about what to do with this blog and that has been annoying me. Certainly, I want to use it to improve my chances of employment, but I'm unsure how exactly. I also wanted to indulge my personal interests and get some of my general creativity up, but it seems I'm too addicted to paper and writing whilst on trains. Is there a space for me in this world?

It's been raining hard lately which suits my mood: irrational, frenzied, brief but overwhelming.

Something about Philip Larkin, trains, and moonlight.

Tuesday 17 November 2009

Brief Update

I met Joey Comeau on saturday!!!!!!
It was pretty much a case of me being about as terrified as I've ever been. I've never been so starstruck in my life. It was hideously embarrassing but my friend Paddi assured me I behaved with perfect aplomb. Just.
Also had great fun in general at a small publisher's fair, they are my new addiction.
More to follow!!!