In this rarely seen television interview from 1971, the artist Christo explains why he knows what he likes, and what he likes is to create art, and he doesn’t care what others think of his art. It’s the kind of interview one would expect from the Daily Mail or, Prim-and-Proper from Tunbridge Wells, where the intonation is bemused, condescending and, at times, aghast by an artist who has achieved fame by wrapping up landmarks and landscape in plastics and rope.
Christo looks like he could be in Pink Floyd, but even his pop star looks doesn’t stop the interviewer from asking such inane questions as: is Christo mad?
Going by Christo’s responses, I’d reckon this interview was cut short - the whole interview only lasts around a minute-twenty, and the package is padded out with voice over and archive, before the interviewer wonders what Christo will do next:
“...Could he be sizing up the sea perhaps? Or, will he plump for a parcel of the whole world, instead?”
Like I said, inane - though, it doesn’t really matter, as Christo didn’t say.
Photographer Michael Jang snapped these glorious photos in 1983 of people auditioning for the weather reporter position at a local TV station in San Francisco.
It’s difficult to describe the music, or the persona, of Reverend Fred Lane, but I will try. The above pictured album cover probably paints at least a thousand words…
Fred Lane is an ultra obscure musical weirdo cult hero along the lines of Half Japanese, Daniel Johnston, Jandek, R. Stevie Moore or Wild Man Fischer, but he’s way, way more obscure than any of these comparatively famous freaks. At least you know the general territory. Lane was/is the stage name of a Tuscaloosa, AL-based artist/sculptor named T.R. Reed who put out two albums under the Fred Lane moniker in 1983, From the One That Cut You (recorded in 1975) and Car Radio Jerome in 1986. These albums were then re-released by Kramer’s Shimmy Disc label in the late 80s.
First the music: cartoony big-band free-jazz swing skronk sometimes bordering on total cacophony with dada lyrics and elements of easy listening, 70s Zappa, spy-fi, The Residents, Spike Jones, country and No Wave thrown in for good measure. It’s truly unlike anything I’ve ever heard before and that’s not a throwaway assessment. The music of Reverend Fred Lane exists in its own very, very specific angel dust funhouse mirror continuum in the same way that a film like Eraserhead or Forbidden Zone stands out when compared to other mere movies.
In the mid-70s there was an Alfred Jarry-influenced absurdest arts group/event in Tuscaloosa called the Raudelunas Pataphysical Revue and this is where Reed’s “Reverend Fred Lane” alter ego was born, as the joking MC for Ron ‘Pate’s Debonairs. No pants. A tuxedo jacket. Coke-bottle glasses, a leering grin and a waxed mustache made the sleazy Reverend’s mad look which was then topped off with Band-Aids. Although it is an act, it’s not one that’s completely obvious at first and Lane might seem to some listeners to be genuinely demented.
From the One That Cut You was literally inspired by an illiterate threatening love note/confession from someone named “Fuear” that was wrapped around a knife that was found in a secret compartment in a 1952 Dodge truck. Reed wrote both a song and also a stage show based on the note for his Fred Lane character.
The note read:
“I hope the paine is gone. This is the one that cut you? P.S. Don’t wear about Jimmy I will take kear of him the same way I took kear of YOU.”
Dig his song titles: “Upper Lip Of A Nostril Man.” “Car Radio Jerome.” “The French Toast Man.” “Danger Is My Beer.” Who could forget “I Talk To My Haircut”? I can’t imagine what this music sounded like to unsuspecting listeners in the 70s and 80s. And how in the world did people find out about it? (Apparently John Peel played Fred Lane on his BBC radio show. I heard of him because Kramer gave me his CD.)
Only two Fred Lane albums ever came out, A guy named Skizz Cyzyk has been working on a documentary about Fred Lane and the Raudelunas collective for over a decade now. He says of the Alabamy art/freak-out scene, “Had it been in NY or SF there would be textbooks written about it by now.”
Interesting point. The Fred Lane CDs are long out of print and sell for upwards of $75 for used copies on Amazon. Fred Lane seems like an obvious candidate for a deluxe collector’s edition CD reissue of some sort. In the meantime, there’s a download link on the Remote Outposts blog
Kenneth Anger and Brian Butler‘s ritualistic “anti-rock” project, Technicolor Skull, live at L’Étrange Festival 2012’s “Occult Program” in Paris on September 8th.
A limited edition blood red vinyl-only pressing of the Technicolor Skull album can be acquired at the Technicolor Skull website.
Icelandic avant gardesters Sigur Rós are in the midst of their “valtari mystery film experiment.” The idea was to give twelve filmmakers a small budget to make whatever film they wanted to make when they heard songs from the groups’ latest effort valtari
“we never meant our music to come with a pre-programmed emotional response. we don’t want to tell anyone how to feel and what to take from it. with the films, we have literally no idea what the directors are going to come back with. none of them know what the others are doing, so hopefully it could be interesting.”
The stunning short film for ‘Ekki múkk,’ tenth in the series, was directed and written by Nick Abrahams, who writes:
“Goes without saying, but no animals were hurt during the filming—had to wait weeks until someone I know came across a dead fox in the countryside to use in the end sequence.”
Irish actor Aidan Gillen (“Mayor Carcetti” in The Wire) plays the man. The voice of the snail was provided by Shirley Collins, icon of traditional British folk music.
The “Classical Gas Video,” as it has come to be known, started out as a student film in 1963 entitled “God is Dog Spelled Backwards.” The film was created by UCLA film student, Dan McLaughlin, who used Beethoven’s 5th Symphony as the original soundtrack. McLaughlin’s idea was to bring together the world’s greatest art and the world’s greatest music to create the world’s greatest film. He came damn close.
After seeing the film in early 1968, Mason Williams, writer for the Smothers Brothers and composer of Classical Gas, approached McLaughlin about replacing the music with his (Williams’) composition, a successful Top 40 record at the time. The revamped music video was first shown on the Summer Brothers Smothers Show (the Smos. Bros. summer replacement hosted by Glen Campbell), in June, 1968, and then twice more throughout the year. The video has since passed into legend (some call it one of the very first music videos), while Classical Gas, due in part to the impact of the video, became one of the largest selling instrumental recordings of all time.
As with many others who saw the video at the time, I was just a kid (10 years and 9 months, to be exact) and I was awestruck. The video made an incalculable impression on me, so much so that it’s one of the seminal moments that drew me to video editing. When I’d gotten a bit older, I set out trying to find a copy of the original, contacting CBS, the Museum of Broadcasting in NYC, and libraries around the country. Unfortunately, it was not to be found anywhere.
When the internet got up to speed, I was hopeful that the video would eventually show up online. Again, no luck. Finally I looked into the story of the video’s creation and those involved and it became clear that with all the copyright issues, it seemed unlikely that all of the parties would ever come to an agreement necessary to release it. Realizing this, and finally out of patience after almost 40 years, I assigned myself the task of re-creating it. I found a copy of the original student film, re-edited it for timing to Classical Gas, and the Classical Gas Video was reborn. Give or take a few frames here and there, it is nearly identical to the actual video that aired on the Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour in 1968.
Even though I initially re-created the video for my own amusement, I soon realized that if I had such fond memories of it, others might as well. Before being pulled from YouTube back in the day when they actually enforced copyright infringement, the video had been viewed more than 500,000 times. A true testament to the power of a video that, in its original form, aired only three times over 40 years ago!
It’s just a pity this isn’t a lil’ sharper looking, but it’s still quite wonderful.
After the jump, a clip of Mason Williams performing a stunning live rendition of “Classical Gas” with a full orchestra in 1968…
A nice housewarming gift for that special “Tony Montana” in your life, perhaps?
This 4-piece mirrored coaster set with digital lines of imprinted blow on them, is by New York City-based artist Nir Hod. The coasters are titled “The Night You Left” and can be yours for $95.00.
And while one may be tempted to criticize Lee’s artistic interpretations of jazz standards, you do have to admire his spryness. He’s still incredibly involved in the community (this video was taken at Comikazi, a comic, sci-fi, and fantasy convention), and he’s never stopped working.
“Red is the great clarifier - bright, cleansing, revealing. It makes all colors beautiful. I can’t imagine being bored with it - it would be like becoming tired of the person you love. I wanted this apartment to be a garden - but it had to be a garden in hell.” —Diana Vreeland
Diana Vreeland was the fabled editor-in-chief of Vogue magazine with the big personality. She followed Vogue with a stint curating the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s famed costume collection. Vreeland single-handily created the stereotype of the extravagantly impulsive fashion mag editrix. She is rightfully celebrated as a genius whose passion and intellect—and unerring eye for style, both high and low—shaped the world of fashion for five decades.
This weekend a new documentary about her life is being released by Samuel Goldwyn FIlms, Diana Vreeland: The Eye Has To Travel, directed by Lisa Immordino Vreeland, the fashion icon’s granddaughter in-law and it looks really good.
Diana Vreeland was known for making quips like “As you know, the French like the French very much,” and she wrote a fabulously witty anecdotal autobiography titled D.V. (the greatest gift for both highly intelligent women and gay men alike). What makes this film seem unmissable to me is that it utilizes audiotapes of Vreeland speaking that George Plimpton recorded when he interviewed her for D.V., which she co-wrote with him. So her story is told in part by Vreeland herself in her own words and via interviews with photographer David Bailey, Polly Mellen, Diane von Furstenberg, Vanity Fair’s Bob Colacello and Oscar de la Renta.
With his face smeared with red ochre, that came off the lavatory walls, Lindsay Kemp made his debut dancing Salome as a pupil at an all boy’s boarding school in the north of England. Kemp had always wanted to dance the Seven Veils, ever since he had seen Rita Hayworth seduce on the cinema screen. That night Kemp was wrapped in toilet paper, and made his entrance from a cupboard in the dormitory. Bicycle lamps illuminated his performance, as he danced to the sound of a mouth organ.
This is Lindsay Kemp recalling his first performance in a TV interview. Kemp talks about his performnace, and how he takes everything that is inside and releases it, so that the audience can believe all that he performs is true.
This is a rare and incredible piece of archive, showing Kemp and his brilliant fellow dancers (including The Great Orlando) preparing and performing an extract from Salome, in 1977. In the interview, Kemp goes on to mention how a production of Turquoise Pantomime, caused offense to the Matrons of Galashiels, that led to a bun fight, and the headline “Blue Show Offends Matrons”. Kemp finishes flirtatiously telling the interviewer how some people think he’s impure, because he opens his mouth. Wonderful!
(recorded in 1975) and 
in 1986. These albums were then re-released by Kramer’s Shimmy Disc label in the late 80s.
is slated for release October first. Not bad for an 89-year-old!
(the greatest gift for both highly intelligent women and gay men alike). What makes this film seem unmissable to me is that it utilizes audiotapes of Vreeland speaking that George Plimpton recorded when he interviewed her for 