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Tuesday, 22 March 2011

Where are all the heroes?

It is time for all the heroes to go home
if they have any, time for all of us common ones
to locate ourselves by the real things
we live by.
(William Stafford)

A Danish sub-titled drama, focusing solely on one crime throughout its 20 episodes, with Copenhagen city politics providing one of the main story lines, doesn't sound like addictive TV. But I've been hooked to The Killing on iplayer mainly because of the lead role, Detective Sarah Lund, played by Sofie Grabol.

I love the fact that she doesnt seem to suffer any guilt about not spending enough time with her family or son, totally immersed in her work in the 'male' stereotype. She's focused on her work 'because its important', but uses her feminine sense of intuition to stay ahead of her male co-workers. She's also rocking a casual I'm-too-focused-on-the-case-to-think-about-what-i-look-like look, while managing to create a fashion fuss about her awesome jumpers. But mostly I love the character because she's not there to be an aspirational role model even though you admire her stubborn focus and self assurance.  

Noticing that there is a season of heroic female leads at the BFI, perhaps we are slowly starting to realise there can be more archetypes in cinema that mother, lover, girl next door or psycho/witch. I like female leads not because they are the perfect role model but because they are an interesting, strong, unique and believable lead character. 

Sarah Lund in The Killing


Perhaps we shouldn't want female heroes any more than we think we want male heroes. An interesting article by Margaret Wheatley argues that its a mistake to want to be rescued by 'a hero'. Instead we need to realise that no hero can save us from either our own personal issues or by the many modern crises. She points out that solutions to problems will come from leaders who can bring out the ideas and experiences from a complex mass of people. These leaders need to be hosts rather than heroes. Because no one person can ever really be 'in charge' but only create the space for people to solve problems.

Heroes can only ever inspire from the grave. Living leaders inspire not by telling us what to do and how to live but by allowing us all to be heroic in our individually small ways.

Our
 heroic 
impulses 
most 
often 
are 
born 
from 
the 
best 
of 
intentions.
 We
 want
 to 
help, 
we 
want 
to 
solve, 
we 
want
 to 
fix.
 Yet 
this 
is 
the 
illusion
 of 
specialness,
 that 
we’re 
the

only 
ones 
who 
can 
offer 
help, 
service,
 skills.
 If 
we 
don’t 
do 
it, 
nobody
 will. 
This
 hero’s

path 
has 
only 
one 
guaranteed 
destination —we 
end
 up 
feeling
 lonely, 
exhausted
 and

unappreciated.


It
is
 time 
for 
all
 us 
heroes
 to 
go 
home
 because, 
if
 we 
do,
 we’ll
 notice 
that
 we’re 
not

alone.
 We’re
 surrounded 
by 
people
 just
 like 
us.
 They
 too 
want 
to
 contribute,
 they
 too

have 
ideas, 
they 
want 
to 
be 
useful 
to 
others 
and
 solve 
their 
own 
problems.




Truth 
be
 told,
 they 
never
 wanted
 heroes 
to 
rescue 
them 
anyway.



In fact Sarah Lund is a great example of why trying to be a hero is not something to aspire to. But you'll have to watch 20 episodes to understand that....So i'll leave you with a great shot of another great strong female lead on the big screen.


Jane Russell in The Paleface, on at the BFI

Monday, 14 March 2011

Suffering Jukebox

suffering jukebox such a sad machine 
your all filled up with what other people need 
and they never seem to turn you up loud 
there are a lot of chatterboxes in this crowd 

suffering jukebox in a happy town 
you're over in the corner breaking down 
they always seem to keep you way down low 
the people in this town don't want to know



Listening to this song with the fabulous lyrics made me think about DJs and record shops. 


There has been a huge shift in the music industry and the way people buy music. The old model of record labels is being challenged. Most record shops are closing and purchasing is now digital rather than on vinyl. Whether that is a sad loss or just an inevitable evolution is an old debate. But I'm interested in what's happening to the role of taste makers and selectors. With an exponential growth in stuff, access to a mass and maze of information, more and more people sharing their ideas and creations on-line, the selectors have arguably never been more important. But where do you find them?


When I used to DJ, I was definitely a selector rather than mixer. My mixing skills were pretty sketchy, mostly because of laziness, but also because I was more interested in spending my time digging for the best tunes, the songs that would get everyone smiling and sparks flying between two people eyeing each other over the dance floor. My favourite weekend browsing was in £1 boxes of vinyl at flea markets and record shops. The best record shopping experience of all was at the amazing Jean-Claude's If Music


After a day sitting a computer at work I would relish the short walk through Soho, down the cobbled road, past the flashing neon of the sex shops and the Christian missionary outfit, to find the warm lights and sounds of good tunes. The door would soon be closed, a bottle of wine opened and we would sit chatting about politics and life while playing through a pile of records he hand picked out for me. He knew my style and my tastes so well over the years that it was like the most luxury personal shopping service. Except I'd also provide a small exchange of friends bands to critique or champion. 


It could be pretty intimidating for many people, in that classic High Fidelity archetype of the music nerd, despairing over requests for anything considered mainstream or not in the genius category. I used to watch with pity poor nervous 20-somethings plucking up the courage to walk in and ask for 'something jazzy' or 'that song by that guy in that...' So many of their much needed customers were terrified away. But it was this discerning taste and this impeccable knowledge of good music that was the value of the shop and its reputation.






Walking into this amazing shop was also walking into a creative catalyst. Jean-Claude would champion and support new struggling musicians, playing them on his radio show, in his club sets or by connecting them up to his contacts. Producers and singers would swap numbers and tips while buying their tunes to play out on the weekend. Some of the artists we were trying to help with Traficante record label were helped out in many ways by this shop and Jean-Claude. He would pass on the records to DJs coming in, put them more prominently on a shelf even though we had no marketing budget. The Dolly Daggers (then became the Golden Silvers), Jade Fox (then morphed into the fabulous Invisible) and Supernashwan (now Gold Future Joy Machine).


I guess all of this is now moving online. But does some of that catalysing and connecting move too?


If Music, like many other record shops, has a good online site which lets you sample music in the same way you'd have a listen in the shop, has reviews, write ups and IfMusic recommendations. Perhaps its ok that vinyl is mostly replaced by digital, and that purchasing is online. I feel a bit stubborn when I turn up at a gig lugging a stupidly heavy box of vinyl in 2011. But how will you get that same recommendation for your set list based on personal contact. Can sites and computer generated algorythms like spotify replace DJ selectors and record shops for recommendations? 


I cant help but be depressed by reading that BBC DJs now all have their tunes centrally selected with a computer generated database compiled from audience research. I cant imagine a database can do a better job, or the same job, than John Peel did.


I certainly wouldn't have had an amazing epic DJ set from Jean-Claude on my wedding day if our transactions had all been on-line.


If anyone would like my personal, hand-picked-from-my-very-dated/retro-vinyl-collection selections let me know and i'll post some podcasts. In the meantime, enjoy this:



Tuesday, 8 March 2011

Yes Indeed....



One of the walls in my flat is covered in Edward Gorey illustrations I cut out from a calendar. I love every thing about them. So perfect. So funny. So poignant. Beautiful.

I still have a fantasy that one day someone will help me make a Gorey film. Not like Tim Burton, cartoon style, but crisp, black and white, Edwardian, slightly unnerving, surreal and funny atmosphere. I sketched out an idea for it when I was taking a film course at my cousin Daisy's film school, the London Film Academy.



Turns out there are some serious Gorey fans out there. Quite a few people have Gorey engraved onto their skin. Check it out!




So, anyone think we can make this film happen?

Quite!

Friday, 4 March 2011

green and barren theatreland

The only film I remember walking out of because it was so bad it was winding me up was Woody Allen's Match Point. So I dont know why Gustavo and I didnt both walk out of Greenland, a play he sweetly bought me tickets to as a birthday present, but which we both agreed was the worst play we had ever seen. And that's saying something. On our first date we bonded over some really pretentious physical theatre at one of the V&A's late night events.

Angelhead Hipsters

Perhaps it was because we were at the National Theatre, it was my birthday, the tickets were expensive and we hadnt mastered a signal that we wanted to get the hell out and go drinking instead.

My heart sunk slightly when I heard it was about climate change. This has been my day job for many years now and I'm aware of the difficulties of making climate change interesting or funny. But I went with an open mind.

Analysing it afterwards we decided the only message, the only point, that it successfully communicated was how hard it is to communicate anything meaningful or interesting about climate change.

What most people have in common is a love of stories. Everyone can relate to emotions and a good tale. Climate change isnt a good story. Its a very complicated, technical science. How we react to it, or not, though can be interesesting. Our relationship with the planet, with nature, with understanding risk - these are all interesting to me..but to make good theatre requires a bit more respect for the audience than imaginative uses of multimedia. The only, tragically few, moments that drew you in were the personal stories of a scientists monitoring the birds in the Arctic and a political advisor and a climate modeller falling in love. But they left you hanging, only superficially skating over, like the birds flying around the theatre, film projections of the real birds.

I'd rather theatre inspired, made me laugh or created heroes. But a earnest attempt to dramatise an issue just because its important? I couldnt help feeling frustrated at the waste of time, talent, money and the audience good will. If anyone else has seen it and disagrees i'd love to know.

When we left the play we came across a fantastic photography exhibition of the beat poets. That made up for the visit. I had no idea Kerouac looked like a film star.