The monthly silent film series, Rising Stars, Falling Stars last Friday featured the film of Germain Dulac, and was accompanied by John Blue and myself. I was excited because we were going to try out a new way of playing, with him experimenting more than before in electronics, and I had recently begun a few new things with a completely de-tuned electric guitar. Okay, it will sound incredibly art-dork-fan club thing, but before the gig I told John I really wished Yoko Ono would come to one of these. But it is because I love Yoko, and the Dulac film made me think of her, and I wondered if the Arsenal had any of her films in the archive.
But, you know a much greater surprise for me was when Stefanie told me that Mario Montez would be in the audience! I was so happy at this news. There were so many folks there, some sat in the aisles. Vaginal Davis was On Point with energy in her introduction, and so funny. Stefanie’s introduction of the introduction was also fun and funny.
Loosely, put the context of Queerness in your head. Loosely it is in mine. It was a very queer weekend.
John and I struggled with the set, and both knew we could have been better, but there was some nice moments. But the theme of artists working was beginning to emerge as the predominate strain throughout the weekend. Just what is it to watch musicians and a film together, what does it create? The party afterwards was filled with talking, laughing and millions of photographs. At one point I was looking around thinking I could almost be many of these people’s grandfather, which was weird and exciting and inspiring. Mario was at the party, but I was too shy to talk.
In defiance of the heavy and relentless rain, the next day began with us meeting high up on the roof of the Sony Center and gathered to celebrate the birthday of the origin of the word, Superstar. This word is incarnate in the person of Mario Montez, whose grace, beauty, and humor lent SO much content into the works of the more largely celebrated Jack Smith and Andy Warhol. At this party I think I was in some alternate universe of Historical Cracks, meaning, among many people who have done some very important work over the last 40 plus years in making the world a much better place, but people who are not as recognized for this work as they perhaps are due. John Heys, the dear, pleasant and generous soul who worked with Peter Hujar and David Wojnarowicz, among others, was there. He can drop you information that is so worthwhile to pursue, as if he were offering you a glass of water. John also started the world’s very first weekly gay journal, Gay Power, in 1969. He found out about my interest in sculpture and furniture design and turned me on to two very good sources to look at. The lovely and smart Zazie De Paris was there sporting her beautiful hand made jewelry. Zazie has been an actress, performer and singer for many years, and also can tell you stories of her life that are NOT name dropping, because, in fact…these are the facts of her life. Mick Jagger, Nick Cave, Jane County, on and on. Zazie has also been nothing but gracious and kind to me over the years. Matthias Mueller was there, in line like everyone else, to get and autograph from Mario on his birthday. Matthias’ own films are lovely, and long an inspiration to me. My dear friends, Wilhelm Hein and Annette Frick were there also. Wilhelm has been long a friend and mentor to me, an inspiration and help. His own work over the years includes bringing the entire idiom of free Jazz to Germany along with his brother, and doing very experimental, hard hitting, political and beautiful films over the years. Annette is a photographer who has an amazing body of work as well. She also over the years has been a big support and help to me. The thing is, this party was packed with the underground heavy hitters, all there to wish Mario a happy birthday. If I emphasize their status in things, it is in the context of queerness, and the theme of artists working, and what that means. There really could be no networking, as in fact, many of these people are poor. It is more a kind of thing like, we have found each other, over space and over time. Beatrice, Cordoua, aka, Trixie was there, and I sat with her a long while, loving her company as always.
Later that night we went downstairs for a screening of some of Mario’s work, broken by informal conversation between Mario, Marc Siegel that was full of anecdote from Mario’s life. I was looking at this beautiful creature, and left wondering about what ephemeral things that were given freely to Smith, Warhol, and Ludlum, and how this work has been received for generations now. Hell, I remember talking all ablaze about Chealsea Girls when I was a teenager, which was already a generation removed. Mario’s screen presence is phenomenal. The beauty of Mario Banana is unparalleled, and, as I said the humor. When the peel of the fruit surprises her with an unruly smack on the face, she does not flinch, but with the slightest look on the face tells us she knows. Mario’s ethnicity also lent an exoticism to these more known artists that is often central to their work. I think Jack Smith was aware of the gift of Mario, and dealt with reciprocal generosity. Warhol, on the other hand appears less grateful, often using Mario as an object of derision. Later I got Mario’s autograph on a book put out by Hein and Frick based on photos from a recent festival here in Berlin. Looking at the book, I realize it was full of images of these people here to celebrate Mario, and that these people were my friends. Artists, working. I collected as many autographs as I could. There is a great section of Evi Reussel in her home made bear outfit which she signed. Susanne Sachsse, who has been a dear friend, and is amazingly talented and versatile, also signed a nice picture of her. I think the point of all this is, Do Not Drop Names, Keep Them!
The next evening I went to see my friends Christy and Emily play a gig. I had heard their CDs before, which I found to be a world so intimate that at first I was shocked to be in before being laid out by a lavishly detailed mix, and left floating in a near narcotic daze. Emily Manzo had also provided the score for my film with Paul Rowley, which was an entirely different side of her work than this, so I did not really know what to expect. From the get-go, the music live worked the same way as the CDs, but also very different due to it being Live. The instrumentation was a rich and warm, thickness that was juxtaposed to the high clarity of their harmonizing vocals. Also the instrumentation had many elements which could be called ‘retro”. The jangly warmth of Christy’s guitar recalled The Smiths recalling The Byrds, without being a rip off or gimmicky, because of her skillful use of pedals NOT as effect, but often as part of the Song’s structure kept it firmly original and contemporary. With Emily’s Piano playing being rooted in a classical avant-garde, the set opened with her playing reminding me of Lamont Young’s work with overtones. This thickness was not lost in muddy swamps. The songs themselves had clear, distinct and surprising changes, and themselves were played with changes that bled into the next, helping us, the audience, get drawn into a world instead of just hearing a presentation of one song after the next. As I watched them I was thinking again about artists working, and I was in wonder of what I was witnessing. You could say this was just a concert, but it was not. It was musicians working skillfully with the material of sound in a sort of sonic painting. If you know then that they also are a couple, then what this does to the meaning of making work to show, together as a couple, and what this in turns means to receive this work, it is nothing short of a marvel. The show was brilliant and inspiring. They have one more tomorrow at Mica Moca, a venue in wedding if you are in Berlin and want to see a great thing of what it means when artists work. (http://de-de.facebook.com/pages/Mica-Moca/147256382006271)
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