Last week I
took a break from work and went to a nearby café for a cup of tea. The music spewing
out of the speakers was dismal and downright irritating. A wind instrument of some
description was being played badly over some mild percussion. Why does music
like this exist? I don’t understand it. Do café owners go to a shop and
specifically ask or search on line for the blandest, most generic and annoying,
tuneless dirge. I would go insane if I had to work there. In fact, the waitress
who served me looked thoroughly pissed off. Luckily, I had brought my I pod
with me and Sharon Van Etten’s Tramp
album was soon bringing back my sanity, although that bloody oboe, clarinet –
or whatever it was – occasionally battled Sharon for a piece of the action.
From one New York songstress to another. I had come out to finish the book I
was currently reading, Patti Smith’s autobiography, Just Kids. What a
majestically beautiful book it is. My Patti Smith knowledge doesn’t go beyond
her fabulous reworking of Van Morrison’s Gloria, so I had no expectations. The
book leads the reader through Patti’s creative development from a little girl,
up to today, taking in her move to New York, her influences, her friendship and
love for Robert Mapplethorpe - who was her creative soulmate - and the
evolution of her art and practice. She never wanted to be a singer. Singing happened to her. Through writing,
reading, photography, theatre and music; through meeting and crossing paths
with singers, performers, cultural icons, authors, poets, and hangers on, her
views and self-belief were gradually formed and guided. Having the guts to
leave home, to survive the sordid, the unnerving, the unglamorous and the grit
and to be in the right place at the right time are key factors in how she became
the artist she is today and New York in the ‘70s was a creative magnet. It is
incredible how all these artists and performers were mixing and sharing their
work at this time, particularly out of the Chelsea Hotel. When so many people
are sharing work and ideas, it is electric. Patti and Robert Mapplethorpe were
two kindred souls, their beings entwined through a wonderful story, full of
waifs and strays, music, polaroids and adventure. This is how anyone should
become an artist or performer – by putting in the graft and living the life.
Shame on the X factor nobodies. A key character in the story is New York itself,
a place which, like London, nurtures creativity and allows people to develop. A
photographer friend of mine, in the same way as Patti Smith and Robert
Mapplethorpe nurtured their skills, has also been cultivating his craft over many years, heading in
new directions and presenting his work in different ways. His Linked In page
describes himself as having been a contemporary British photographer for 28
years and one month. This is it. Being an artist is not a job, it is an
evolution and an obsession throughout your life. His latest project is a book entitled New York Posts (see HSD Image), which came about from a five-day trip
to the city and a determination for something tangible to come out of it. It is
a book, which reflects the madness of modern life in a modern city. Taking
headlines from the New York Post newspaper, which were published during his
stay, he presents them amongst the images that he photographed, giving a
genuine feel of modern day madness. Amongst the headlines ranging from the
sensational, to the shocking, mundane and bizarre, live people struggling to
exist. They leave their mark by spraying paint on walls and doors, they garner
hope from compassionate looking statues of Jesus, flower stalls bring colour,
whilst the singer Beck makes a personal appearance. As the day to day happens,
people get shot as if in a Western, Bieber and Bloom fight like spoilt brats
over Miranda Kerr and Spiderman is arrested in Times Square. It is a great
portrayal of everyday life, captured over five days in New York and could be
applied to any city or town, the world over. No matter what happens, however
peculiar, life goes on.
What my friend
Dan has done, in the same way as Patti Smith, or Sharon Van Etten, is show the
bravery and passion to get up and do it.
My break from work finished as We Are Fine by Sharon VE came to an end and that oboe, or kazoo, or whatever it is, like an annoying wasp, once again invaded my space and it was time
to head back to work
If you have
appreciated these words in any way, you may want to get yourself copies of Just Kids by Patti Smith, New York Posts by Dan Boulton, link
below:
And I would
recommend reading the books whilst listening to Sharon Van Etten (see HSD Tune.)
Art and artists must be supported...
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