Ηλίας Πετρόπουλος - Ένας Κόσμος Υπόγειος

In the Time Machine with Bryan Ferry

"...That is the germ of my great discovery. But you are wrong to say that we cannot move about in Time. For instance, if I am recalling an incident very vividly I go back to the instant of its occurrence: I become absent-minded, as you say. I jump back for a moment. Of course we have no means of staying back for any length of Time, any more than a savage or an animal has of staying six feet above the ground. But a civilized man is better off than the savage in this respect. He can go up against gravitation in a balloon, and why should he not hope that ultimately he may be able to stop or accelerate his drift along the Time-Dimension, or even turn about and travel the other way?" Thus spoke the Time Traveller in an extract from the famous H. G. Wells novella "The Time Machine" published in 1895. 

Flash forward, sometime in late spring 2012, early evening.

Mr Ferry was seen entering a telephone booth in East London smartly dressed in a 1920s style short tuxedo. He was carrying with him a black leather briefcase which contained an ebony comb, a bow tie and an extra set of gold cuff links. In a secret compartment, very few people knew that Mr Ferry was also carrying a brown envelope containing a selection of outstanding songs spanning the period from his Roxy Music days to his present solo carreer.

Flash back, early autumn 1927, late evening.
  
A smartly dressed gentleman enters the Cotton Club in Harlem, New York City and introduces himself as Mr Ferry from old Albion. After the end of the show he gets to meet the musicians back stage and is last seen having a drink with Duke Ellington by the piano.   

Flash forward, late summer 1928, midday.

Mr Ferry is seen exiting the 44th Street Studio in New York carrying a heavy box with a Victor Recordings label on the cover. He steadily walks towards a particularly quiet and shady back-street and enters a telephone booth.

Flash forward, November 2012.

The album "The Jazz Age" by the Bryan Ferry Orchestra is released.

Flash back, autumn 1927, late evening.

- "Them cats in the band, like your songs Mr Ferry even if I must admit they are kind of strange compositions"
- "How do you, feel about them Mr Ellington?" 
- "Let's say that I can see real potential in quite a few of them. I just need a little more time to work them out. You see, we can arrange them in different styles. We don't have to be all Louis, King Oliver and Orleans to make a hit these days. I would like to give some of the songs a more sophisticated, velvety feeling that will make them shine and I can guarantee the audience will love them."
- " But Mr Ellington, I told you, I don't intend to release these songs once they are recorded. Not at this particular time at least. I would just like to have them recorded and keep them for my private pleasure."
- " That's a pity Mr Ferry but, then again, you are the one who is putting up the money for all this."
- " I certainly appreciate your discretion on the whole matter Mr Ellington and I am glad you don't mind if I give fictitious names to the musicians in the band."
- " Mr Ferry, these are all your songs and as far as I am concerned, our meeting never took place. See you at Victor."

So there you have it. When you play this record, please spare a thought for all the trouble that Mr Ferry has gone through to have this music recorded. One can only imagine what the audience of the 1920s whould have thought of these songs if they were released at that time. I sincerely think we should convince Mr Ferry to make a few gramophone records out of "The Jazz Age" and get in the telephone booth once again.

Listen to:

Bryan Ferry - Reason or Rhyme (2010)

The Bryan Ferry Orchestra - Reason or Rhyme (1920s) 

The mechanical world of Edouard Martinet

Thomas Hobbes (1588-1679) would be the perfect person to inaugurate an exhibition of Edouard Martinet's metallic sculptures. I imagine him reading the first few lines of his magnum opus "Leviathan" to an ecstatic crowd filling the gallery: 

"NATURE (the art whereby God hath made and governs the world) is by the art of man, as in many other things, so in this also imitated, that it can make an artificial animal. For seeing life is but a motion of limbs, the beginning whereof is in some principal part within, why may we not say that all automata (engines that move themselves by springs and wheels as doth a watch) have an artificial life? For what is the heart, but a spring; and the nerves, but so many strings; and the joints, but so many wheels, giving motion to the whole body, such as was intended by the Artificer? Art goes yet further, imitating that rational and most excellent work of Nature, man... "

Hobbes attempted to explain the universe as an amalgamation of mechanical processes or movements that are governed by mechanistic principles. Edouard Martinet seems to have taken the essence of mechanical philisophy quite literally.



Starting in the early 1990s, his powerfull imagination and artistic skill (he is a teacher of graphic design), combined with a childhood passion for insects and an uncompromising attention to detail, made him able to visualise a discarded piece of junk metal as the missing part of a larger than life mechanically assembled grasshopper or praying mantis.

Using old rusty bicycle parts, tins or whatever other scrap metal or disused object he could find in junkyards, boot sales or second hand shops and antique fairs, Martinet has managed to recreate in extraordinary detail the anatomy of diverse creatures from insects to fish, amphibians and birds.

What makes these sculptures so unique is the feeling that one gets when carefully observing these objects. There is a kind of authority of creation guaranteeing that these mechanical creatures are complete and capable of actually flying, walking, swimming or hopping around based purely on mechanical means. This feeling is probably due to Martinet preferring to use screws, nuts and bolts to join existing original pieces together rather than use welding to intervene and change the actual form of a given object to suit his needs.

Edouard Martinet lives and works in Rennes, France. 

Visit his site here:

Edouard Martinet's site

Can: The Lost Tapes

18 of October 1970. The country is West Germany. You switch on the television and as you wait for it to warm up, the faint humming noise of the tube starts to transform into distant drumming that becomes louder and louder and just as the colourful small yellow and black rhombus patterns fill the screen, a frantic splash of musical beat anounces TETV präsentiert: DAS MILLIONEN SPIEL. It's a film made for the WDR television channel, based on Robert Sheckley's short story "The Prize of Peril". The protagonist of the story takes part in a television reality show where he has to survive being hunted down by a killing squad. If he manages to survive, he can take away one million deutsche mark. If he loses, well, he loses his life. The very distinctive music of the opening titles for this film was created by "Innerspace Productions". Another name for Germany's foremost experimental krautrock band, CAN. 

 

Revisiting these "lost" music fragments of a bygone era in CAN's "The Lost Tapes" 3 LP box, is a treat. Containing recordings spanning probably the most creative period of the band from 1968 to 1973, this archive material manages to convey the whole palette of CAN's music and sound experimentation from ambient textures to 15 minute wild live rock and fusion excursions. Studio doodles and moments of genius, contrasting moments of loose improvisation and tightly controlled segments of lucidity that have even commercial appeal, it's all there.

Czukay's loops in millionenspiel gets the adrenalin flowing as you follow the frantic efforts of the protagonist running for his life. One year after this recording, CAN would also frantically escape the hired killers of commercial aspirations, producing the holy trinity of albums in their catalogue ("Tago Mago" in 1971 broke all barriers of structure, content and feel in music. It was followed in 1972 by "Ege Bamyasi" redefining the word psychedelic and then "Future Days" in 1973 stepping into distorted, avant garde ambient territory). Now, I am not very sure CAN got their reward of one million deutsche mark but they certainly deserved it. They survived and their music sounds as fresh and mind blowing today as it did in the early 70s.   


Listen to:

Can - Millionenspiel

"Casus Belli" (2010) A short film by Yorgos Zois