Author: andrea Page 44 of 71

The Czech Surrealist film Valerie and Her Week of Wonders (Valerie a týden divů, 1970) is a film that, once seen, cannot be forgotten. Like a fever dream, the film is filled with inexplicably seductive imagery that haunts the memory long after one has left the theatre. Like Angela Carter’s Company of Wolves, this strange, hallucinatory coming-of-age tale draws on folk imagery and traditions to tell the sometimes nightmarish, topsy-turvy tale of titular Valerie and her adventures. Whether dream or nightmare, the film remains one of the highest accomplishments of the burgeoning Czech New Wave.

Greater still is Lubos Fiser’s exquisite score, which has finally been restored to print by the lovely people at Finders Keepers. Time Magazine praised Fi‰er’s “austere purity” in a review way back in 1971, and, listening to this soundtrack so many years later, I can’t help but agree. The music has a revelatory simplicity and ineffable grace.

Espers’ Greg Weeks, an ardent fan of Fiser’s score, has nevertheless been inspired to create one of his own, done in collaboration with a slew of like-minded musicians (Fern Knight’s Margaret Wienk, Jesse Sparhawk, and Jim Ayre; Fursaxa’s Tara Burke, Weeks & Helena Espvall-Santoleri from Espers, among others). The Valerie Project has already performed the score as an accompaniment to the film in London (as part of Jarvis Cocker’s Meldtown fest), in NYC (at Jonas Mekas’ Anthology Film Archives), and in Philly (where many of the musicians reside). More shows are planned for the fall (including one at the Museum of Modern Art in NY), and the fall should also see the official release of the score in its entirety on CD. (That awaits confirmation, but I believe that Drag City will be doing the honors.)

I’ll let the group’s intentions speak for themselves:

“The Project Series started with a simple concept; that of recontextualising the filmic meaning and impact of a particular work through the substitution of a newly composed soundtrack. The new soundtrack is meant to be performed live to a sound film, with the original soundtrack turned off or the original music removed. This element is unique in that most live film soundtracks are perfromed to silent era films.Of course, the genesis of the project came more out of a complete infatuation with Jaromil Jires’ 1970 dream poem than from any intellectual conceit. The film’s relevance to a new generation of folk musicians (and to the re-emerging nature aesthetic within youth culture and society in general) made it an obvious choice when early in 2006 I was approached by Joseph Gervasi to present a music-to-film event at Philadelphia’s International House.

So what relevance does an obscure Czech New Wave film about a thirteen year-old girl’s coming of age have on modern society in the 21st century? Well, themes of religious turmoil, sexual awakening, filial complexity, doppelgangers, vampiric entities and shadowy evils pocketed within the beauty and resplendence of the natural world make it more relevant than ever, seems to me.

It should be noted that the underlying impetus of The Project Series is to reconnect the world to itself. Valerie is a film partially born from of a complex folk tradition, centuries of provincial culture. As global borders expand and cultural homoginization ascends, it is important that artists spread the heritage and uniqueness of pre-21st century cultural identity, so that such identities can be discovered, valued, and hopefully preserved by a modern global culture that tends to forget the learned wisdom of its past.

Valerie And Her Week Of Wonders is the first film in The Project Series.”

For more on the group’s upcoming plans and performance schedule, visit their web site.

I leave you with four songs: two from Fiser’s original score, and two from The Valerie Project’s very first performance on September 18, 2006.

Order the original novel by Vitezslav Nezval. | The Valerie Project’s performance schedule. | Finders Keepers Records. | Valerie on DVD.

***

Lubos Fiser, “Disquiet” (Original Soundtrack)

Lubos Fiser, “In Flames” (Original Soundtrack)

The Valerie Project, “Feast” (Live in Philadelphia, Sept. 11, 2006)

The Valerie Project, “Fire Mountain” (Live in Philadelphia, Sept. 11, 2006)

AC Marias, “Sometime”

A Certain Ratio, “Knife Slits Water”

A.M.P., “Get Here”

The Abecedarians, “Soil”

Add N to X, “Barry 7’s Contraption”

Andreas Dorau + Die Marinas, “Fred Vom Jupiter”

Arto Lindsay, “Personagem”

Autechre, “Basscadet” (Seefeel Mix)

Autokat, “TheDriver”

****

AC Marias | A Certain Ratio [official site] | Amp | The Abecedarians | Add N to X | Andreas Dorau |Arto Lindsay | Autechre | Autokat [MySpace]

Jandek
Boston Institute of Contemporary Arts
Friday, June 8

The Masons
Blizzard of ‘78
Jake’s
Providence, RI
Saturday, June 9

Anticipation nearly derailed my enjoyment of last Friday’s Jandek show at Boston’s swank new ICA. It’s hard to enjoy a performance on its own merits when there are so many years of built-up tension between the mysterious press-shy performer and his notoriously obsessive fans —it’s bound to create an certain degree of tension that is possibly disproportionate to the performer’s abilities. The collective anticipatory tension in the sold-out hall was practically stifling. (Or was it simply that the ICA didn’t think Jandek fans deserved AC?)

To be honest, I didn’t quite know what to expect. Now that I’ve seen him, he remains as absolutely mysterious as ever. He emerged unannounced from stage-right in what amounted to a costume —a mask?— of black from head to toe. Not a word of idle chatter —not that I expected a boisterous “Hello, Boston!” or anything, but no concessions whatsoever were made to the audience. The performance —dubbed “The House of Despair” by one attendee— simply began, with very little fanfare and absolutely no flashiness.

The show that followed was two very solid hours of Jandek and his pick-up ensemble —saxophonist and lyricon-player Jorrit Dijkstra, trumpeter Greg Kelley, and percussionist Eli Keszler— presenting what amounted to a very intense performance. While Jandek —I mean, the representative— did not once acknowledge the audience and retained an almost impassive demeanor throughout— the tonally mercurial lyrics were vividly emotional, leavened occasionally by flashes of wry humor. Throughout, there were non sequiturs and closed doors and despair so dark it veered dangerously close to self-parody.

At the same time, the Steinian repetitions and the pervasive sense of isolation and unease built and built and built towards something genuinely cathartic. By the hour and a half mark, I had grown used to the sometimes halting, sometimes over-the-top rhythm and had become transfixed by the odd spectacle. Some time past that, I was ready for it to be over. (A combination of the content being emotionally draining and a certain performative sameness setting in.) And then, as suddenly as he emerged from the darkness, he returned to it, without a hello or a goodbye.

Which seemed very, very appropriate, all things considered.

I must say here that his ensemble —who’d apparently only met him that afternoon for a lone rehearsal— were absolutely phenomenal. Although they’d never played together as a group before, they certainly sounded incredibly vital and cohesive. The drummer was especially fun to watch. He was almost a one-man band —he had extra cymbals, triangles, a small xylophone, and all sorts of neat instruments to add depth to his already-powerful drumming. Mostly he was just really fun to watch —as a player he was athletic but not leaden, with all sorts of showy but not arrogant tricks in his arsenal.

***

Saturday night I headed out to local haunt Jake’s to see local supergroup the Masons play their record release party with Blizzard of ’78.

The Masons were great fun, in that summery, slightly Noo-Wavey Cars-y way, all big choruses and surftastic keyboards. Tonight the ever-shifting Masons line-up (songwriter Kraig Jordan being the lone constant) included such local luminaries as Dave Narcizo (Throwing Muses) played drums, Don Sanders (Medicine Ball) on guitar, and Jeffrey Underhill (Velvet Crush/Honeybunch) on keyboards.

It was the kind of big-hearted, big-chorused music that you can sing along to even if you’ve never heard it before —it’s immediate, and joyously accessible without being inane. While we’ve all come to expect drearily lowest-common-denominator entertainment during the summer months, the Masons have crafted an effortlessly summery set of songs without condescending to the listener’s intelligence.

Blizzard of ’78 were, as always, rowdy, glammy fun. Singer Pip sported a slightly amended look this time around: between the 70s-drug-dealer-trying-to-go-legit facial hair and the frilly rented tux shirt and frayed vintage two-piece, I had to wonder if Grinderman were holding open auditions. (Maybe Sclavunos was busy with any one of his million-and-one other groups.) Contemplation of dubious costume choices went out the window as soon as he opened his mouth. Day-um, he’s got star quality. He sure as hell can sing —for all the group’s aspirations towards a bluesy, slightly seedy glamour (like a cross between JXBX and the Bad Seeds), there’s something almost angelic about his voice that elevates the occasionally verging-on-generic material.

***

The all-knowing, all-seeing Jandek page. | Buy Jandek records. (And there are a LOT of them!) | The Masons open for the Schemers (!!!) at Lupo’s on June 29th. You can buy their albums from 75 or Less Records.

PHOTO BY JOSHUA HARRIS FROM JANDEK’S 4•26 SHOW.