Showing posts with label Goethe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Goethe. Show all posts

Sunday, May 18, 2014

Review - Woodkid: The Golden Age

Our stories are told over and over again, some just on the front porches where old people sit in their rocking chairs and tell of times past. People and places again and again until you remember it as if you were there, reliving the actions of your grandparents, once virile and precocious, and you can still see those twinkles in their eyes. Others have the talent of writing out their memories onto the page. Ink spills and presses and bytes and kilobytes, letters and words, sentences flow out and into the digital airways above our heads, to be read by someone in China or Europe.   It's the way we preserve our lives. It's the way we gain immortality, hoping that someone will read it, remember it, store it upon bookshelves or in their "favorite bookmarks" online, to read when they have a second or two.

Then there are the truly gifted ones, that can take a brush and some color and paint their lives onto canvas. We can experience the water lilies in pixelated wonder, or Turner's English countryside. What truly moves me are those who take their lives and place them on a staff for a piano or guitar.  People's lives turned into song, with the music taking the highs and lows and making them instantly accessible to everyone.





What Woodkid (the stage name for Yoann Lemoine, a French musician, director, videographer, and artist) has done is to take a semi-autographical account of his life and turn it into a book, a CD, a set of videos, concerts, and is even working with a ballet company to turn his work into a dance.  It's called The Golden Age, and I have been thoroughly engrossed in the manifestations of the work.  In each work of literature, or music, or artwork, the artist must understand that the work is the merging of his own life and that of the recipient.  Further, it is the merging of those lives along with the works of all other artists, authors, musicians, that the artist and the recipient has ever encountered.  Every one of us will hear or read or see something different, experience stimuli from within as well as without.  So to review the work, I have to go into what I brought with me into the work itself, as well as those which, I think, he brought with him.  It all merges, like one giant orgy, into The Golden Age, and mixes the music together into broad strokes of emotion.

***

 I sat in the front seat of my stepdad's ice cream truck in the blazing hot Georgian summer sun.   I was reading, for my 12th grade English class, The Sorrows of Young Werther, by Goethe. It speaks of Werther, who falls in love with a young German girl, Lotte, who is in turn in love with Albert, also a friend of Werther. It is a story of love rejected, of desires gone unheeded, and of mankind's pursuit of emotional peaks which cannot be attained.  I had, sitting in this ice cream truck, one of my "Eureka" moments.  You know, one of those points in your life where the way you think about things changes forever.  There are always small moments like this often, but the big ones only happen a few times in someone's life.  I suddenly understood everything that Mrs. Cook (my 11th grade English teacher) had been trying to convey about the Romantic movement.  There are literary works that will change your life forever, and this was one of them.  It's appropriate that most of my Eureka moments came from the reading and "soaking in" of books.  It's what I've ultimately surrounded my life with, reading, selling, and writing about.

I say this because the feelings  I got from Woodkid's The Golden Age were the same as those in Goethe's semi-autobiographic novel.  Goethe had fallen in love with a poet named Charlotte Buff, but was ultimately rejected. He, nevertheless, bought the wedding rings for Buff and her fiance.

Woodkid's book deals with a love affair with, well, someone.  He is never named.  In fact, it is ultimately unknown whether or not the purity of the lover is not simply a Romantic reflection upon the author's own childhood.  As he grows up, he becomes more separated from the boy he once was, finding in the world things far from the riversides and cherry trees he knew as a child.  The fact that his lover is male is also autobiographic, as Yoann Leomine is gay himself.

The narrator's transition between child and adult is also reminiscent of William Blake's poetry in The Songs of Innocence and Experience.  I have spoken many times about Blake's influence in my thinking.  Blake is best known for the poems "The Lamb" and "The Tyger." Blake's philosophy is that we live in two distinct worlds, that of Innocence, and that of Experience.  In childhood, Innocence is, well, bliss.  It is without fault, beautiful, something that we always yearn for and regret leaving, even as we know it is inevitable that we do.  The downside, and the reason why we leave, is that Innocence is always Impotent.  Someone who chooses to remain in the Innocent realm can never effect the world around him.  The world of Experience is much darker, filled with consequences and ulterior motives.  But with it comes responsibility, power, the ability to change things, both for good and evil.  It is this stage that we must take ourselves, however unwillingly, because there is a need to change things for the better, and we cannot do that if we are impotent.  It was said that Blake had a third realm, that which we attain only after becoming completely enlightened, where the Innocence of the first realm returns with the power of the second.  It is very rare that anyone could attain this level of understanding.  Certainly not Werther, nor the narrator in Woodkid's book.

The Golden Age is almost split in half by his time in the idyllic world of his childhood and the urban, war filled, chemically enhanced world of his adult life.  There is a certain obvious parallel to the lover on the ship in the first half with "The Lamb," and his acquaintance partner in the second half with "The Tyger."  While reading the book (which only comes in the deluxe edition, found here), these are the books and ideas I brought with me, ones in which I could easily see floating throughout the words.  The passages are lyrical, poignant, with sentences popping off of the page as revelations about life.  However, the ending is more along the lines of someone trying to write while experiencing a drugged state  (which would not surprise me, see Samuel Taylor Coleridge from the Romantic movement).  Also in the book are the lyrics to the 12 track CD, which is very helpful, as it's a French singer trying to sing English words.

***

The music... now here's where we get to the glory of this work.  Yoann merges classical music with the beats he associates with the current hip-hop music, although what is produced is certainly universal in genre.  Listening to track 2 (my favorite) "Run Boy Run" in the car, coming up over the Parker Road bridge, the pounding of the Tympani drums and the snares and the violins and trumpets, a glorious resounding charge into war, I felt my lungs tightened as if raw emotions were billowing up, ready to charge over that hill.  Fortunately, since Yoann is a masterful music video director, he has created music videos to the best tracks, which I will embed here.  "Run Boy Run" reminds me so much of Where the Wild Things Are for very obvious reasons.




Track 5, "I Love You" has literary connotations as well.  Even before I was aware of Yoann's sexuality, the lyrics of the song brought to mind Death in Venice by Thomas Mann.  Aschenbach was a famous author who travels to Venice to heal from diseases gotten in the cold climates of Europe.  While along the shoreline of the Italian city, he sees Tadzio, and is immediately struck by his beauty and purity.  It is impossible that Yoann could not have read the book, or at least seen the movie, and had it influence his life, so closely does this track, and the following one, "The Shore," resemble the themes of the book.  Ironically, Death In Venice was the novel that was assigned to us right after The Sorrows of Young Werther in that 12th grade class.  The music video of this song becomes much more clear after reading the book.  While the drowning of the character in the video might look like a suicide (which would work, with the evidence of the books talked about above), it was more a reference in the book about his lover drowning as well as ships sinking (which could be the Lusitania or the Titanic).
 
 

I bring up "The Shore," as interesting because the opening notes reminded me a lot of Billy Joel's "Vienna Waits for You," which, as Joel said in a recording from a box set, dealt with Vienna as a metaphor for life.  He also talked about the style of piano playing at the beginning and end of the song, which he was imitating Kurt Weill, as well as the Cabaret atmosphere of Germany and Europe, something that Yoann, a gay musician growing up in Germany, would be familiar with.  It also becomes clear in the later parts of the book that the bars and nightclubs he attended would have had that music in them as well.  That the narrator would see this lifestyle as "war," and equate those days with the actual wars his relatives fought (WWII, no doubt), is interesting.  I find that often homosexual characters in movies and books often meet tragic ends, even those stories written by someone who is gay, very few of the stories end happily.  There is no balance here, as Aschenbach himself talked about, the balance between Apollo (reason) and Dionysus (emotion) is often askew, so that, in that novel, he stays in Venice even after being warned about a contagion in the city (which would be deadly to someone in his weakened condition) to watch the puerile figure playing on the beach.

I also bring up Billy Joel's song to illustrate what I have talked about before, about musician's abilities to use their own lives in song, thus preserving their memories as someone writing a story would, or the elders in the rocking chairs passing on memories to their children.

 


If nothing else, get the MP3s and find the lyrics online, as the book version costs around $50.00.  I have thoroughly enjoyed the music, and hope that he will create similar works in the future.  It is refreshing to find songs that actually mean something now, that dip into the mankind's past and combine literature and music, video motion, all the media that we use now.  So far gone are the days when an artist can just put out an album and expect people to buy the album.  We now drop over to itunes and pick up the single and that's it.  But what Woodkid has done is create a masterpiece that, to experience the whole thing, the album must be bought, and in the deluxe edition no less, along with watching the videos, and probably going to the concerts themselves (which are mostly in Germany, not here, alas).  I found myself one day imagining the songs arranged for a marching band, with the flag bearers using the crossed keys waving about on the field, with the trumpets and the percussion on fire as they marched on the field.  It would work so well.  I say this because the music reminds me a bunch of Steven Reineke's works, and those are easily adaptable for orchestras and concert bands.  It is the kind of music we need nowadays.  Something to make us feel alive, inspire us to go forth, raise our swords high upon the hilltops, and use our time on this Earth to fight the foes we have chosen.  Love and War go hand in hand, life and destruction.  Let's make sure we fight for the right causes.

Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Responding ... in the Twilight Zone

[This was actually a response to a friend who was talking about the Twilight Zone (from the review of Zenna Henderson's book in the blog prior to this one). It was long enough, I put it here, as well as the responses.]

The Twilight Zone broke down humanity into brief half-hour segments where a sociological or philosophy point was made. There was a point to the story, unlike most of the junk on now. The same can be said for sci-fi books then vs. now. The books back then were short, had a plot that was easily forgotten in pursuit of the theme of human progress through the stars, and through one's own mind, and, the ones I've read from my dad's collection at least, stayed with me longer than the fluff that is popular now. That's why Zenna Henderson's short stories were so good, or Clifford D. Simak's books, or The Twilight Zone episodes... they stay with you, challenge the way you think, make you look at the way people live in an entirely different way. It's these books that I enjoy reading, and shows I enjoyed watching.

I realized that, while watching the shows on Disney, that they weren't doing that at all. They were entertaining, but there were other things I could be doing with my life. I have an entire library of books here, waiting to be read, and a universe of books I haven't discovered yet. I have miles of trails to walk, blogs to write, and so if I'm going to watch television, I want to make it something that is going to be worth those minutes to do. Now, that's not to say that the things I do instead is any more useful. I gave up some Facebook games, like Bejeweled Blitz, for the same reason, but I still enjoy one or two of the sites up with mindless slot machines and other match-3 games.

The thing is, I would accept watching the Twilight Zone as a good use of 30 minutes of my life, as it is entertaining and thought-provoking, and is an example of what directors can do with simple scripts, plot lines, and themes. These masterpieces are still memorable, some half-century later. As creators ourselves, who want to leave a lasting mark on the world, those directors have done so. I hope that the directors at Disney and CBS, NBC...etc.... can feel the same way about the shows they make.

[J.'s response:]


I  agree with you. It kind of goes back to what you said about the learning curve being gone and I believe you blogged about uselessness before. That is why some people say that Disney Channel is not the same anymore, because Disney doesn't teach the kids anything anymore. The biggest worry is making the kids laugh, not giving them something to think about. Therefore, there is little to no learning curve. That's why I loved some of the old adult shows more than a lot of the new ones because attached to all the entertainment were morals. Home Improvement is one of the greatest examples of that. Tim 'The Tool Man' Taylor said it best, "Tool Time is not just about Home Improvement; it's about male improvement." Tim is just not the same since HI (I've seen his recent show, Last Man Standing, and it's nowhere near as good as HI). Plus, you have Wilson, who gave Tim, Jill or any of the characters advise in their time of need. What you've been blogging lately reminds me of what Wilson once said to Tim, "Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime." [Quote is at 5:13 of the clip above] I believe it is a Chinese proverb, but I am not 100% sure. But, it is so true for kids today. They want to be given everything on a platinum platter, but doesn't want to learn to do things for themselves. They have so much potential and so much promise, yet they don't want to tap into it.

 Also, when you said that some of the books and shows make you look at the way people live in an entirely different way, it reminds me of the Twilight Zone episode "The Obsolete Man." The librarian was declared obsolete for his faith in God, yet he held true to his faith, and even witnessed to the man that was going to contribute to the librarian's liquidation. That episode teaches us to be bold in our faith.



Anyway, I am glad you are trying your best only to do things that are worth your time. Every time you mention about your hikes that you take, I am reminded of the saying, "Life is not about the number of breaths you take, but the number of moments that take your breath away." I am sure with all of the hikes, you had a lot of breath-taking views, moments and journeys.


Well, with all the hills around here, there have been quite a few times where my breath was taken away... by trudging up the trails.  There are physical moments as you talked about, ones where the beauty of being atop a slab of rock, or the mental satisfaction of climbing those hills magnifies the beauty of what's up there.  There are also times when, as Kyle Idleman talked about on the overhead at Lifeway, there are "AHA" moments, Eureka moments, as I called them before, where the light inside your head goes off, something clicks, a pattern is put together.  Idleman talks about this as it refers to Biblical principles, bridges that are crossed within our spiritual journey, but it can occur at other times as well. I remember a time in the 12th grade when I was reading a book, The Sorrows of Young Werther by Goethe, and everything that my English teachers had been trying to convey about Romanticism all clicked into place.  It was a point where my philosophy of life changed, I saw things in a different way.  I'll talk about this more in a future blog, reviewing some music I'm listening to.


And this is not to say that I don't waste my time (if you want to call it that), because I do, to a certain extent.  James Taylor penned "The Secret of Life is enjoying the passage of Time..." I agree with that somewhat. I think there's a time when hard work and sacrifice brings about the satisfaction of a job well done, that there are things worth "not enjoying" for a time, but in the end, it will bring that enjoyment. That's Epicurean thought in a nutshell.  And if I can complete a task, finish a blog, get the kitchen cleaned (half-way), get a chapter read in a book, take a walk, map a trail, then I'm doing good.  There are some people who will make you think that if you're not out there digging trenches, bleeding for mankind, sweating for a deadline, that you're not doing enough, that you're some strain to the economy and the world.  As long as I leave something to this world that I feel important, this blog, for instance, then I have accomplished a goal. If I have brought happiness to the people I work with, with the people online, then I have enhanced the world in some way.  I have saved a life, brought the joy of reading to customers minds, especially the kids that came to Borders, helped out friends online with bullies, and taking care of my mother when she needs it.  Sometimes the "wasted" time is simply resting from one thing to the next, and even God rested, on the Seventh day.




Friday, January 16, 2009

Romantic thoughts from an Ice Cream Truck

There are Eureka moments in your life, the one's where something pops, synapses fire, neurons open up a whole new highway to someplace new. We're all far removed from the days when we were 8, and we spent each day wanting to get toys and what crack not to step on outside. And it's not those moments after you've painted your mailbox gray, or cut the leaves off of your mother's favorite plant, and your dad comes home furious. It's those times when the knowledge of something far more than what you knew suddenly opens up.

***
Summers in Georgia are filled with hot, sweaty, humid days, and there is nothing like hearing the tones of a ringing bell driving down the street in either a rhythm, or in short, staccato notes that toll of a break from July and a moment of December (in your mouth, at least) as the Ice Cream truck meanders down the road. And on the side of the road, are children, crumbling up the dollar bills placed in their hands by parents who want either a moments peace, or know that if one dollar can give their children a little happiness, then it's much more important than the dollar that goes to pay the light bills. Maybe there's a tinge of nostalgia in those dollars, as if the parents would be out there as well, shouting out "esta esta" while pointing at the colorful images of fudge bars and banana popscicles.

The ice cream truck business is, for the driver, not a very pleasurable experience. The trucks here in Georgia are ones bought from the brink of extinction, with no hint of an Air Conditioner ever having been installed. The motors may run...may not. And the coolers inside the trucks are the same way...bought from some dying grandmother's estate sale and coached back to life by some duct tape and some freon. So it is expected that successful, eager businessmen are not going to choose "ice cream truck driver" as their first profession. Instead*, this falls to the people who are down on their luck, swept aside by society, forced into such a job because there's nothing much more they can do, with drugs or mental conditions slowing their thinking capacities down so that it may be hard to make change for the tykes with the dollar bills. But that is not to say that ice cream truck drivers are reprobates and criminals. The ones I met are usually very normal, kind people, with the conditions that have brought them to that state being their only vices.

And so it was that my stepdad, now retired and looking for a way to contribute to the family budget, got in contact with the local ice cream truck service and became one of their best drivers. And while I never understood why he would rather put the dry ice into the coolers (which never did quite keep the ice cream cool enough) with his bare hands, I understood (or think I do, now) why he took the job.

The ice cream, you see, was not just high caloried milk and sugar, but rather bars of short-term happiness. We were bringing treats into neighborhoods that normally would never have gotten such things. For in the time that he drove the ice cream trucks, the best neighborhoods to sell from were the poorest socio-economically. But the parents were always willing to give a dollar, or 50 cents, to the kids to get something from the truck each day.

I went with my stepdad a couple of times, and marveled at the joy we could bring kids just by traveling down the street and selling ice cream. Didn't they know they could get more for a fraction of the cost just by going to the grocery store? But that would be ruining the experience.

So I remember sitting in the passenger seat of the ice cream truck on some hot Spring day, reading a book that my 12th grade English teacher (Mr. Nunes, a professor at Dekalb College, now Ga Perimeter), had assigned to us. And there, in that ice cream truck, I had what I call a Eureka moment (my second to that point, but that's another story.)

[*These statements are opinions based on experience only and are not endorsed by the Ice Cream Truck Drivers of America.]

***
Most people have no problem living without thinking deep thoughts. The most serious conversations might cover the attributes of the latest American Idol contestant or the Defensive strategies of the Chicago Bears (which is usually Urlacher, all the time). And for some reason, teachers hold out the really important stuff till you get to High School. I remember in 11th grade, Mrs. Cook teaching us American Literature. In doing so, I was introduced for the first time to the ways that people thought about the world. By the time we got to Robert Penn Warren's All the King's Men, I was awash in being able to think about literature in ways of symbolism, in the ways that people think about life. Earlier that year, she introduced a way of thinking called Romanticism. As she explained it, it was talking about things that were of Nature, thinking emotionally about the world, and dealing with the unknown in ways that accepted the irrationality of human existence. And that was okay, I guess. I read Thoreau and really enjoyed his writings, but never really quite got past that. All those meanings and thoughts meant nothing to me, not really.

But the next year, Mr. Nunes really got into the processes in which philosophers thought about the world during each period of literature. How that the unknown was looked at either with scientific assuredness that one day mankind would know everything, or in the supernatural wonder that there were things that we could never know, and only could grasp through the heights of mental thought. He showed us how Nature could be the trim, properly cared for gardens of Wordsworth's poetry, or the wild foreboding mountaintops of Coleridge, or the cold, uncaring Nature of Stephen Crane's "The Open Boat."

And so it was, I sat in the back of my stepdad's Ice Cream truck, reading a copy of Goethe's Sorrows of Young Werther, a tale of forbidden love and the throes of emotional outburst and melancholy. The love interest of Werther being an already married woman, and the love that he felt he could only return as friendship, as society would not let him go further. And as the emotions welled up inside him, he delved into philosophical thought about life, about nature, about the world as Goethe would have seen it (through the beliefs of Immanuel Kant.)

It came to me, as I was reading, that the ideas of Romanticism, the yearning, the emotions that are brought back in times of quiet solitude (Wordsworth), that pain and pleasure are usually the same thing, and things that are not always obtainable, be it paradise, or love, or simply a warm touch, are things we must keep striving for, even if it drives us insane. We must keep pushing further towards those heights of feelings, and not live in the microcosm that is our own boring lives. I had on my front Myspace Page (and will again) a quote from the band Engima, "Open your Heart, and Push the Limits." This is the feeling I got in that Ice cream truck. It's the Eureka moment that said, "There's more out there than just video games and ice cream. The world is filled with experiences and knowledge that are just waiting to be slurped up. If only you would climb up to the cliffs of this world and look out over to the far reaches, to experiences and emotions still unknown to us in this world." My only regret is that I have not always striven to do this, as fear of those heights are as real as those a acrophobe has. We have to live according to society's rules, for the most part, and unfortunately, the laws are there to keep us safe, ere we fall.

One day, I will return to Goethe's masterpiece, and will refresh those feelings I had that warm spring day. And perhaps living in the Phenomenal world (as Kant would call it) is for the best, as there are few times in our lives when we can climb up to the apex. In the valleys, there is happiness and contentment, even if there is paradise on the mountain.