Tuesday, September 2, 2014

PRAGUE BIZARRE








It was a small room furnished with steel chairs with red seats, a glass topped steel table and a divan covered with black American cloth.  Over the chromium-plated electric fireplace hung a reproduction of a Juan Gris still-life.  On the opposite wall was a faded brown photograph of Rosa Luxemburg in a rococo gilt frame.  The general effect was, to say the least of it, bizarre.





Text:  Eric Ambler, Uncommon Danger (1937) 


Monday, September 1, 2014

AFTER THE STORM IN THE HUDSON VALLEY






Words that you said
Baby what do you want?
After you left
Baby what did you want?
While all along,
It was there in a song that you love.
There all along
In the words of a song that you love.
After the storm
Will you know what you want?
After the storm
Baby what will you want?


Carla Olson: After the Storm (wr. Gene Clark) (Link)
 




Note:  Today’s storm was really something.  Predicted, unpredicted, then present tense intensive for about 30 minutes, it was magnificent.  The rainbow must have been hidden somewhere in the higher clouds over the big lake, but the smoky mist was fabulous and hung around for a long time afterward.  I’m surprised I’ve never posted Carla Olson’s performance of Gene Clark’s After The Storm, but I really hope you click on the link and listen to it.  Carla, various Textones and Mare Winningham, make the song unforgettable.  Gene’s lyrics are, as always, remarkable.  I’ve condensed them here (Gene revised Mr. Tambourine Man; I don’t think he would disapprove in principle) and I think the edit reveals something of Gene’s method with words, images and rhythm.

We sat out the wild storm under the roofed area on the terrace drinking wine and then hung around for the very nice Labor Day kids’ camp celebration/pool and early dinner party.  The creepy selfish English investment banker with no more than half a brain who really discredits his Neanderthal ancestors hijacked most of the party, disserving the club staff, to his house just as the sun was about to come out. There should be a law or at least a rule or a rubber truncheon to take care of people like him. We hung around and Janie danced all night with Antonia and her friends and it was perfect.  Somewhere in Northern California a troll twitches.