John Coulthart's Blog, page 308

Weekend links

Marbles and Butterflies (2011) by Jennifer Knaus.

• "Cutter's Way is a cinematic masterpiece" says John Patterson. Yes, it is, and it's often been difficult to see (although it's now on DVD) being one of those cult films that rarely surfaced on TV or video. Another cult film surfacing at last is Jerzy Skolimowski's Deep End (yes, again…) which will be out on DVD & Blu-ray next month. I missed this Telegraph piece about the film. You want more? Lint: The Movie is showing at the Kino Club, Brighton, later this month.

• This week's Eno haul: Developing Your Creative Practice: Tips from Brian Eno; Eric Tamm's 1995 study Brian Eno: His Music and the Vertical Color of Sound is now available for free at the author's website; Imagine New Times is an outtake from Eno's forthcoming Drums Between the Bells which can be downloaded here.

• Mixtapes of the week: Demdike Stare with a suitably sinister and eclectic mix are out-curated by Current 93′s David Tibet who mashes together a unique blend of folk, prog, riffs, choral works and glam rock.

I began to realize the hypocrisy about sexual freedom in the feminist establishment was as bad as it is in the religious right. They do whatever they want. They look at whatever they want, they masturbate to whatever they want, they fuck whoever and however they like. I couldn't even say everything I know in the book because it would just be too cruel and personally invasive. But I've had it with their lying. I spent so long trying to have these earnest conversations and now I'm like, "Fuck you — you're as bad as the Vatican!"

Susie Bright interviewed by Tracy Clark-Flory at Salon sounding as happy and positive as she always does.

• The Gnostic #4 is out this month featuring Alan Moore's essay on magic and related matters, Fossil Angels, and a piece examining the Gnostic influences on Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridian.

• "Nobody should be sent to prison for taking drugs," says Richard Branson. Many politicians agree with him but they're all too cowardly to do anything about it.

Untitled work by Kilian Eng.

• The Adventures of Jerry Cornelius, The English Assassin (1969–70). A comic strip written by Michael Moorcock & M John Harrison with art by Mal Dean & Richard Glyn Jones.

• The Lavender Scare: The Cold War Persecution of Gays and Lesbians in the Federal Government by David K Johnson is available as a free ebook here.

• "If I was to try to write a mainstream book I would be constantly bumping my elbows up against the restrictions." Tim Powers is interviewed by Alison Flood.

• HOMO Online, Adventures in Homosexuality: Fiction, Fact, Art and Porn.

• Your Rainbow Panorama, a new work by Olafur Eliasson.

• Self Suck, a poem by Angelo Nikolopoulos.

• Map Of Dusk (1987) by Jon Hassell | Lam Lam (1998) by Baaba Maal (with Jon Hassell & Brian Eno) | All Is Full Of Love (1999) by Björk (Guy Sigsworth mix featuring Jon Hassell).

Miwa Yanagi's fairy tales

Rapunzel (2004).

Emphasising the "grim" in the Brothers Grimm is what Japanese artist Miwa Yanagi achieves with Fairy Tale, a series of staged photos. It's a familiar approach, of course, mining childhood for a darker subtext, and the effect is reminiscent in places of earlier explorers of this disturbing territory such as David Lynch and Jan Svankmajer. But Yanagi adds some twists of her own, not least the alarming figures of young girls masked to resemble old women. Despite being based on tales from the West, there's a distinctly Eastern flavour to some of these scenes: in Rapunzel the usual golden locks have become a black torrent which can't help but seem sinister when one recalls the legacy of supernatural hair in ghost stories like Yotsuya Kaidan.

There's a catalogue of these works available although the text may well be Japanese-only. And speaking of Svankmajer, it's worth noting again that Alice is now available on DVD. David Moats enthuses about the film here.

Thanks to Gabriel for the Yanagi tip!

Previously on { feuilleton }

• Kwaidan

• The art of Maleonn Ma

Franz Stassen's illustrated Hoffmann

Endpaper design with an ex libris plate by the artist.

Another prolific illustrator with a clear-line style, Franz Stassen (1869–1949) here decorates the pages of Musikalische Schriften, a book devoted to the musical works of writer ETA Hoffmann. I haven't checked but I'm fairly sure that Stassen was featured in Jugend magazine a few times, his florid style in this undated volume would certainly complement the work of the other artists there. Like some of those artists, Stassen was enthused by Teutonic nationalism during the First World War, a path that led eventually to work for, and plaudits, from the Nazis. We're also told (via an unsourced Wikipedia detail) that he ended his days in a gay relationship, something the Third Reich would have either overlooked or conveniently ignored.

Elsewhere on { feuilleton }

• The illustrators archive

Previously on { feuilleton }

• Alastair's Carmen

• Willy Pogány's Lohengrin

• Willy Pogány's Parsifal

Valenti Angelo's Salomé

And still they come… Valenti Angelo (1897–1982) was an American printmaker, author of several books for children and the illustrator of an estimated 250 classic works of fiction including this 1945 edition of Wilde's Salomé for Heritage Press. Angelo has an engagingly simple style in this and other works, reminding me of David Sheridan's Tarot designs. The Internet Archive has a copy of his illustrated The Imitation of Christ with drawings reminscent of Eric Gill's woodcuts.

Elsewhere on { feuilleton }

• The Oscar Wilde archive

• The illustrators archive

Previously on { feuilleton }

• Dalí's Salomé

• Wild Salomés

• The Salomé paintings of Caroline Smith

• Mossa's Salomés

• The art of Marcus Behmer, 1879–1958

• Several Salomés

• Julius Klinger's Salomé

• John Vassos's Salomé

• René Bull's Salomé

• Steven Berkoff's Salomé

• Manuel Orazi's Salomé

• Salome's Last Dance

• Salomé posters

• Salomé scored

• Beardsley's Salomé

• Peter Reed and Salomé After Dark

• Alla Nazimova's Salomé

Dalí's Salomé

Queen Salomé (1937) by Salvador Dalí.

Of all the Surrealists, Salvador Dalí had his fingers in the most cultural pies—designing for film and theatre, writing books (including a novel, Hidden Faces), even performing occasionally, or at least making a public spectacle of himself—so it's no surprise to find him adding to the stock of 20th-century Salomé interpretations, first in a drawing then for the stage. The stage work was something I hadn't run across before (not since this current obsession began, anyway), a 1949 production of the Strauss opera at Covent Garden directed by Peter Brook. The now celebrated theatre director was at the outset of his career when he chose Dalí as his designer but the resultant furore shows that Brook's ability to challenge an audience (or at least, a gaggle of theatre critics) had an early start. The critics savaged the production and the show closed after only six performances. Brook, who was sacked, had this to say:

The critics all decided that Dali and I were only out to annoy them. There, at least, I might claim that they underestimated us; if that have been our intention I think that between us we might have done much worse… (More)

Getty Images has some tantalising photos here, here and here, but I've not seen anything in the way of production sketches. The objections seem to have been the usual tiresomely English revulsion against anything too original, too strange or too imaginative (it's no wonder Leonora Carrington abandoned Britain for Mexico). An article about the production from the BBC's Music Magazine includes this detail:

In the last scene for Dali and Brooke, [Salomé] was slowly covered over by a sort of green ooze of bile that came from the head of John the Baptist, an effect of luxuriant disgust which we can imagine without too much difficulty, bearing in mind others of Dali's images.

That piece also mentions a proposed restaging of the opera with Dalí's designs but I've been unable to discover whether this took place. If anyone knows better, please leave a comment.

Previously on { feuilleton }

• Wild Salomés

• The Salomé paintings of Caroline Smith

• Mossa's Salomés

• The art of Marcus Behmer, 1879–1958

• Several Salomés

• Julius Klinger's Salomé

• John Vassos's Salomé

• René Bull's Salomé

• Steven Berkoff's Salomé

• Manuel Orazi's Salomé

• Salome's Last Dance

• Salomé posters

• Salomé scored

• Beardsley's Salomé

• Peter Reed and Salomé After Dark

• Alla Nazimova's Salomé

Wild Salomés

So there's a poster for Al Pacino's forthcoming drama-documentary about the Oscar Wilde play but I've yet to see any release details. The tagline connects Salomé with The Ballad of Reading Gaol: "We kill the thing we love."

Searching around for posters turned up this item for an Italian-French co-production of the Wilde play directed by Claude d'Anna. I've not seen this but it can't be any worse than Ken Russell's version so it may be worth seeking out.

Far better poster-wise is this splendid creation by Anselmo Ballester for the Italian release of the 1953 Hollywood film (which isn't based on the play). Rita Hayworth was too old for the role, and the film is simultaneously lavish and dull in the way that so many sword-and-sandal epics manage to be, but the poster is a gem. This site has many more examples of Ballester's poster art.

Elsewhere on { feuilleton }

• The Oscar Wilde archive

Previously on { feuilleton }

• The Salomé paintings of Caroline Smith

• Mossa's Salomés

• The art of Marcus Behmer, 1879–1958

• Several Salomés

• Julius Klinger's Salomé

• John Vassos's Salomé

• René Bull's Salomé

• Steven Berkoff's Salomé

• Manuel Orazi's Salomé

• Salome's Last Dance

• Salomé posters

• Salomé scored

• Beardsley's Salomé

• Peter Reed and Salomé After Dark

• Alla Nazimova's Salomé

The Rock Drill

The Rock Drill (original version, 1913–1914).

Jacob Epstein's Rock Drill (1913-15) was reconstructed in polyester resin by Ken Cook and Ann Christopher in 1973–74. It is the exemplary Vorticist art work. It shows a man on a tripod who is one with his machine. His drill is also his rigid proboscis, his hard, angled phallus. The tripod has weights (embossed Colman Bros Ltd Camborne England) on each leg, just above midpoint—which look like enlarged joints, or a bee's pollen knee-pads (only available in black).

The rib cage of the figure is exactly like the twin cylinders on a motorbike. He is recognisably human, true, but the human body, with its curves and trim little bum, has been made-over to the angular machine: it is an armoured exoskeleton. The arms are like greaves. I thought of Seamus Heaney's description of a motorbike lying in flowers and grass like an unseated knight. And I thought too of "Not My Best Side", UA Fanthorpe's marvellous poem about Uccello's St George and the Dragon in the National Gallery. In it, Fanthorpe imagines the young girl being rather taken by the dragon's equipment, when suddenly, irritatingly, "this boy [St George] turned up, wearing machinery".

Thus Craig Raine on Jacob Epstein's unforgettable sculpture. It's astonishing to think that this piece in its various forms (lost, reworked, reconstructed) is now nearly a century old. Raine was writing about the forthcoming The Vorticists: Manifesto for the Modern World, an exhibition which will be opening at Tate Britain next month. Epstein's truncated Torso in Metal from The Rock Drill (the full-figure version was destroyed) was one of the handful of sculptures which stood out for me when I first visited the Tate Gallery (as Tate Britain used to be) and it's since become a piece I always enjoy seeing again. Epstein's art was frequently controversial, his Oscar Wilde Memorial of 1911 was famously declared indecent, and The Rock Drill would have seem shockingly angular and aggressive to a British art world where aged academicians were still painting medieval fantasies or trying to sculpt like Praxiteles. To us today it looks unavoidably cybernetic even though the word "robot" didn't arrive until 1920. Flickr has some views here of the reconstructed version which I'd hope is going to be on show at the Tate. In the meantime, there's Anthony Gormley discussing the work on BBC Radio 3 (via iPlayer) which he regards as the first Modernist British sculpture, and a favourite work of art.

Previously on { feuilleton }

• Wildeana #2

• Against Nature: The hybrid forms of modern sculpture

• Angels 2: The angels of Paris

Weekend links

Jean Genet (1950) by Leonor Fini.

• Bibliothèque Gay looks at a series of erotic engravings made by Leonor Fini for La Galère (1947) by Jean Genet. The author reciprocated with Mademoiselle: A Letter to Leonor Fini. At the hetero end of the erotic spectrum, Tate Liverpool will be showing a series of drawings by René Magritte produced for a proposed edition of Madame Eduarda by Georges Bataille. René Magritte: The Pleasure Principle opens next month.

• George Clinton will be appearing with Nona Hendryx at the British Library on 18th June, to talk about "all things galactic". In addition there's a screening of John Akomfrah's The Last Angel of History, a documentary about Afrofuturism and black science fiction. See an introduction to that here. Related: the Smithsonian's National Museum of African American History and Culture has acquired the Parliament-Funkadelic Mothership for its collection.

• RIP Gil Scott-Heron. "Why does this colossus remain relatively unknown? Is he too political? Too uncompromising? Too angry? Too satirical? Too painful? Too playful? Too alive? Too black? Too human?" Jamie Byng in Gil Scott-Heron: poet, campaigner and America's rough healer.

Le Fils du Maçon (1950) by Leonor Fini.

• China Miéville examines alternative histories in Brian Aldiss's The Malacia Tapestry, David Britton's Lord Horror and Richard Curtis's chilling dystopia, Notting Hill.

• What happened to Rolf-Ulrich Kaiser and Gille Lettmann when the Kosmische Musik dream collapsed? Find out here.

• Mlle Ghoul interviews Will Errickson of Too Much Horror Fiction about horror paperbacks, good and bad.

• Another Surrealist woman: Claude Cahun at Strange Flowers.

• The Key of Hell: an eighteenth-century sorcery manual.

• Partitura 001: realtime sound visualisation.

• Scientific Illustration: a Tumblr.

• Cosmic Slop (1973) by Funkadelic | Cosmic Slop (1991) by Material.

Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration #25

A design by Emanuel Margold.

This post concludes the delve into back numbers of Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration, the German periodical of art and decoration. Volume 25 covers the period from October 1909 to March 1909, and while the Internet Archive has further editions available they make a big jump after this number to 1923. The later editions are still interesting, of course, but in presentation and content they're very different to what went before. Despite the text of these magazines being entirely German it's been an education going through them not only for the detailed attention given to artists often passed over in books, but also for the articles reporting notable events in European art history as they happened. We have the Robarts Library of the University of Toronto to thank for having made these publications available.

An illustration from a series by Carl Otto Czeschka for Die Nibelungen by Franz Keim.

Belgian sculptor George Minne, one of the few sculptors classed among the Symbolists, is given an overview. The Fountain of Kneeling Youths (below) is the one piece always reproduced in books. Strained and slightly distorted figures were a recurrent feature in his work.

Photos of the villa of Franz von Stuck in Munich, a Grecian palace of art which doesn't look like a very comfortable home.

And a design for Von Stuck's bookplate from a series by Willi Geiger.

Bookplates by Heinrich Vogeler.

Fashion designs by F. Diveky.

Previously on { feuilleton }

• Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration #24

• Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration #23

• Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration #22

• Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration #21

• Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration #20

• Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration #19

• Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration #18

• Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration #16

• Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration #15

• Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration #12

• Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration #11

• Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration #10: Turin and Vienna

• Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration #10: Heinrich Vogeler

• Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration #9

• Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration #8

• Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration #7

• Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration #6

• Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration #5

• Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration #4

• Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration #2

• Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration #1

• Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration

• Keim & Czeschka's Nibelungen

• Jugend Magazine revisited

Leonora Carrington, 1917–2011

Self-portrait (1937–38) by Leonora Carrington.

Imagination and fantasy were two of the tools women artists used in the early decades of the 20th century to force their way into a male-dominated art world. The proliferation of illustrated books provided a creative platform in the Edwardian era for women shut out of art movements whose aesthetics might be avant garde but whose attitudes to sexual politics were either ignorant or reactionary. It was only with the advent of Surrealism that a notable body of women artists emerged in the field of painting and sculpture, not only Leonora Carrington but her almost namesake Leonor Fini, Dorothea Tanning, Remedios Varo, Meret Oppenheim, Kay Sage, Valentine Hugo and others. Part of this was the tenor of the time, of course, but Surrealism had no choice but to be open to anyone who came calling; if you're going to let dreams and irrationality dictate the debate then everything that was previously fixed is up for grabs including gender dominance and sexuality. Leonora Carrington had a longer career than her contemporaries, and also distinguished herself as a writer of fantastic novels and short stories. Dalí aside, it could be argued that among the original Surrealists it was the women who stayed true to the project in subsequent decades. Max Ernst was a lover of Leonora and later married Dorothea Tanning but he left Surrealism after the Second World War for other styles of painting and sculpture.

Among the obituary notices surfacing there's a piece by Leonora's cousin, Joanna Moorhead, who wrote a couple of years ago about her search for her celebrated relative, and a notice in the Telegraph. Ten Dreams has a small gallery of her paintings.

Previously on { feuilleton }

• Marsi Paribatra: the Royal Surrealist

• Angels of Anarchy: Women Artists and Surrealism

• Return to Las Pozas

• The art of Leonor Fini, 1907–1996

• Surrealist women

• Las Pozas and Edward James