(things I learnt in ‘Murica, this time around - part 1)
Joseph Cornell
Celestial Navigation
c. 1958
ps 1. “He [Joseph] was largely self-taught in his artistic efforts, and improvised his own original style incorporating cast-off and discarded artifacts. He lived most of his life in relative physical isolation, caring for his mother and his disabled brother at home, but remained aware of and in contact with other contemporary artists.”
Sometimes they work and sometimes they don’t and I still haven’t figured out why. But it was 100% great to work with Robert Altman. He gave me my big break in Streamers, which won the best actor prize at the Venice film festival [the entire cast was named best actor]. We worked on Resurrection Blues at the moment in his life when he knew he was dying. I wasn’t with my father when he died. [But with Altman] I was able to hold his hand on that journey and try to take care of him in those last months of his life.
I am on board the plane to Johnstown, Pennsylvania. I stopped off at PJ Clarke’s for a hamburger before emnarking and I must say I was filled with nostalgia. I remember sitting on the curbside singing songs at 2 in the morning. The 3rd avenue L still in operation. Your appartment on 51st and 11th street. Dancing backstage at Picnic. No one can deny that these moments exist in time and space, and for all we know, may be recorded at electric energy for eternity at 180 million miles per hour.
We have access at all kind of facsimiles. Tomorrow, next week, next year. When we get scratchy, get going with bad solitary dialogs, we ought to remember that we had the option to choose from good solitary dialogs also. The years bear witness to that. Funny thoughts at 22,000 feet.
MacDermot, a Canadian who was primarily a jazz musician, (...) blended his obsession with the music of Duke Ellington with that of artists such as Miriam Makeba and Hugh Masekela.
He regarded Hair, which betrays these influences, as “a total funk show”, even though the subject matter of the libretto and songs by Gerome Ragni and James Rado encompassed psychedelic trips, tribal chorales, poignant ballads and the soulful rock splendour of the sensational opening and closing numbers, Age of Aquarius and Let the Sunshine In.