THE SIGNAL from David Katznelson
"There is always a third possibility, as long as you have the ability to find it."-Selma Lagerlöf
Today is the birthday of Swedish writer Selma Lagerlöf, the first woman to win the Nobel Prize for Literature. She is known (where she is known) for her children’s book The Wonderful Adventures of Nin and The Saga of Gosta Berling but her whole body of work is just incredible, including The Ring of the Lowenskolds, Jerusalem (which I recently read about a group of Swedish religious zealots moving to Palestine…based on fact), and The Emperor of Portugallia, based on San Francisco’s colorful Emperor Norton.
My friends Vendela Vida, Ulf Olsson and myself are working on an anthology of Swedish literature from the 1880s to the 1940s, an era where Lagerlöf published her greatest works. The anthology is designed to introduce the United States and beyond to the greatness of Swedish literature of that period…a literary canon that is remarkable yet largely unknown to westerners…and Lagerlöf is a big part of it.
My recommendation: read The General’s Ring from The Ring Of The Lowenskolds and watch the brilliant silent movie made from one of her stories, The Phantom Carriage…which Jonathan Richman did a live score to a while back (need to get a copy of it!).
Happy Weekend and SHABBES!
Peter Guralnick’s new tales about Elvis, Ray Charles and other music legends
Peter Guralnick’s book Sweet Soul Music changed my life, introducing me to Solomon Burke…King Solomon…still my favorite soul singer of all time. The chapter on OV Wright is pretty great too…the whole book: so worth a read. And now, roughly 25 years later, here is another grouping of essays about some of the great musical artists of all time….
John Waters on Donating His Collection to the Baltimore Museum of Art
The Baltimore Museum of Art has embraced John Waters over the years…most recently curating a career expansive look at the director. Why not. What else are you going to get in Baltimore? Besides HL Menckan….a horrible but extremely lovable baseball team (GO ORIOLES!)…what else is there of real note? Besides, Waters would be a giant in any community that he is embraced by. His art collection is fascinating and I am looking forward to seeing it on the walls of the BMA when the world opens back up.
Suffering, Unfaltering Manet: Even in ill health, the painter continued to shock his audience
I never realized the difficulty Manet faced when creating some of his iconic paintings.
WEEKEND LISTEN: THE FLAMING LIPS: AMERICAN HEAD
It is no secret that I have loved the Flaming Lips since their first EP wayyyyyyy back in the mid-80s. The band has changed my life is so many ways, and their music releases have continued to be a celebration of what the recorded medium was meant to present. Enter the latest album: American Head. Hands down my favorite Flaming Lips record since the absurdly underrated The Terror, American Head is a beautiful, dark look at Lips’ leader Wayne Coyne’s childhood. The songs are breathtaking, beautiful melodies and arrangements that pay homage to the last record I was lucky enough to work on with them, The Soft Bulletin….but with an evolution that makes the comparison not completely accurate. The more I listen to this record, the more I crave the envelope of sound it offers.
The days are getting darker earlier and it is cold where we live up here in the mountains. Putting on this record with some hot tea, with your dog by your feet: that is the ticket to a good time.
Four Glimpses of Night
By Frank Marshall Davis
I
Eagerly
Like a woman hurrying to her lover
Night comes to the room of the world
And lies, yielding and content
Against the cool round face
Of the moon.
II
Night is a curious child, wandering
Between earth and sky, creeping
In windows and doors, daubing
The entire neighborhood
With purple paint.
Day
Is an apologetic mother
Cloth in hand
Following after.
III
Peddling
From door to door
Night sells
Black bags of peppermint stars
Heaping cones of vanilla moon
Until
His wares are gone
Then shuffles homeward
Jingling the gray coins
Of daybreak.
IV
Night’s brittle song, sliver-thin
Shatters into a billion fragments
Of quiet shadows
At the blaring jazz
Of a morning sun.
**
(thank you Paul Corning for turning me on to this poem)
