From the mind of classically trained Ellis Ludwig-Leone comes the self-titled, debut album from the band San Fermim. Brooklynite and Yale Grad, Ludwig-Leone wrote and composed this seventeen-song LP in just six weeks while in a Thoreau-esque, self-imposed isolation in the mountains of Canada somewhere between Alberta and British Columbia (a move we've seen from the likes of Justin Vernon while writing 'Bon Iver'). The album draws inspiration from Ernest Hemingway's 'the Sun also Rises’ and Ludwig-Leone's own quasi-narrative conception. The album is meant as a dialogue between two fundamentally different archetypal characters-- a love-struck, sullen man and a cynical, standoffish woman (think Astrophil and Stella or, more recently, Moulin Rouge).
The characters are given voices by a trio of vocalists. Allen Tate's low, rumbling timber (eerily similar to Matt Berninger's from the National) gives life to the man, while the combination Holly Laessig and Jess Wolfe provide the power behind the siren-like woman. The difference between these two characters is apparent right from the start of the album. In the first track of the album, 'Renaissance!", Tate's baritone, first bare, is slowly accompanied by the sullen, delicate mews of strings; eventually giving way to the overpowering fanfare of brass instruments and a chorus. The mood abruptly changes in 'Crueler Kind', giving the listener almost no time to cope. It is in the former track that we first hear the female duo singing together with a playful condescension. Their duet in this track and also in 'Sonsick', along with the track's quirky instrumentals, gives a sound ala Dirty Projectors (I'm especially fond of the underlying baritone saxophone riffs going on here).
By no means should the instrumentation be overshadowed by the vocals. Ludwig-Leone's masterful control over his composition is clearly shown, especially in the short, purely instrumental tracks that periodically punctuate the album, becoming progressively more frequent and esoteric as the album comes to a close. Ludwig-Leone has the uncanny ability to create composition that can be familiar in its acoustic sound; then he can change hats completely and create something austere and abstract. It is in the instrumental tracks and also the tenth track, ‘the Count’ that we can clearly hear inspiration drawn from Nico Muhly (an innovative contemporary composer). Tracks such as 'True Love, Asleep' and 'Daedalus' feature the sparse plucking of strings and eerily beautiful, resonating choral voices that mark Nico Muhly's pieces.
Especially enjoyable is the loose narrative 'San Fermin' meanders down. The album begins in media res--full of fire, tumult and strong emotions. Tracks switch from Tate to the girls almost schizophrenically, instilling the listener with a strong sense of opposition and friction. As the album nears its girth, the vocals become increasingly more male with Laessig and Wolf accompanying and the instrumentals become frantic and dissonant. The narrative finally receives its resolution, with only four tracks left, with 'Oh, Darling' and 'In the Morning' where we finally hear all the vocalists singing together in harmony (a sound reminiscent of Sufjan Stevens). The mood becomes calm; like the drifting of leaves to the ground after a harsh, August thunderstorm. All three vocalists change the quality of their singing--Tate becomes more soulful and Laessig and Wolfe more sultry. However, Ludwig-Leone doesn't allow this resolution to linger, as he ends his hour of music with two instrumental question marks.
What I truly appreciate about this album is the combined effort of all involved to create tension through contrast in a variety of ways--between the girls and Tate, the instrumental and vocal tracks; and even within each track where mellow vocals compete with majestic fanfares and high, tinkling singing is interrupted by the grunts of a bari sax. San Fermin kept me both intellectually interested and emotionally involved throughout the whole album. What was merely a concept in the mind of a man in solitude in the mountains became something almost tangible--like a hug, a kiss or a slap. Ludwig-Leone, Tate, Wolfe and Laessig will ensnare you in this intense story of infatuation.
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
yesterday I woke up sucking (on a lemon)
Not very often do introductory chapters of an academic text lead one down the black abyss of an existential panic. Fortunately for me I have a copy of Communication; Principles for a Lifetime [2013] which, along with its quality collection of relevant, ethnically diverse stock photos, is incredibly unforgiving about the hard reality of human communication.
Communication is Inescapable "Even when you don't intend to express a particular idea or feeling...remember: people judge you by your behavior, not your intent".
Communication is Complicated "whenever we communicate with one another, at least six "people" are really involved: who you think you are, who you think the other person is, who you think the other person thinks you are, who the other person thinks he or she is, who the other person thinks you are, who the other person thinks you think he or she is".
Communication Maxims "if communication can fail, it will. If a message can be understood in different ways, it will be understood in just the way that does the most harm. There is always somebody who knows better than you what you meant by your message. The more communication there is, the more difficult it is for communication to succeed".
is it any coincidence that most of the communication scholars quoted are Russian.
Also I have a corrugated-cardboard paper cut.
Communication is Inescapable "Even when you don't intend to express a particular idea or feeling...remember: people judge you by your behavior, not your intent".
Communication is Complicated "whenever we communicate with one another, at least six "people" are really involved: who you think you are, who you think the other person is, who you think the other person thinks you are, who the other person thinks he or she is, who the other person thinks you are, who the other person thinks you think he or she is".
Communication Maxims "if communication can fail, it will. If a message can be understood in different ways, it will be understood in just the way that does the most harm. There is always somebody who knows better than you what you meant by your message. The more communication there is, the more difficult it is for communication to succeed".
is it any coincidence that most of the communication scholars quoted are Russian.
Also I have a corrugated-cardboard paper cut.
Sunday, January 6, 2013
preface and Lars von Trier
Somehow I feel as if a first post warrants some kind of intention for writing on the internet. I don't know, I've been doing very little with my body and very lot with my brain these past few days. I've also been taking advantage of the netflix...and I have all these ideas of the things I absorb through various media that I feel as if it may be of benefit to myself to put them somewhere tangible (as tangible as the internet can be I suppose...) I don't really think that anything I put on here will be that original or thought provoking (though I'll spare you the self-deprication for now at least, as I'm sure there will be plenty of that). Also, typing is easier than writing and my body has the predilection towards tendonitis.
As an aside I really enjoy elipses. They're some sort of period, comma, hyphen hybrid and the ambiguity is satisfying. Also parentheses.
Also I hate the red squiggly lines that appear below words that I misspell. It's not so much really that I dislike the constructive criticism but more due to my apathy. So excuse typos. I apologize for being ignorant. I dislike typos just as much as the next anal retentive undergrad.
Also I'm going to use second person, sorry.
SO that's enough of that. I watched Melancholia by Lars von Trier last night (Also trainspotters with Ewan McGregor but it doesn't really incite much thought, good flick though). I saw the movie as a parallel between the two sisters, Justine and Claire (the latter I had to look up the character's name). Sort of a portrait of the two characters and their relations with their relatives.
JUSTINE
Dunst did an exceedingly good job at emoting deeply rooted sadness. Justine's affliction goes unnamed throughout the movie, and doesn't become overtly obvious until the second part ("Claire"). It's the type of sadness that one just has. The movie hints that it may be due to the dysfunctional relationship between her parents...her dramatic and confrontational mother and her vacant and unreliable father, but I think that her depression goes beyond that. Her emotions seem completely absurd in the situation-- she's at the reception of her marriage in a beautiful castle/mansion/golf course (a yuppie newlywed wet dream)-- yet she seeks solitude (rather uncouth), goes on a public diatribe against her boss, ends up fucking a random intern and ruins her marriage. That's sadness though, and makes complete sense in that way. Self-destruction, dissociation, etc.
Justine's segment of the movie radiates awkwardness and honestly made me uncomfortable. I think it was the quiet (except for brief interludes of music from the ballet Tristan and Isolde) and the intimate cinematography during the wedding party scenes...as if it could have been filmed with a handheld camcorder (with a very high quality lens or something). These attributes were juxtaposed harshly with the set which was elegant and idyllic in every sense and lit with the soft light of dusk and candlelight. This coupled with the costumes-- all beautiful floor length gowns and tuxedos-- made Justine's segment on the verge of absurd, almost hilarious, but definitely tragic. Like children running around playing dress-up.
CLAIRE
The sequence of claire's segment structurally paralleled Justine's. You see their public facades slowly peel away to reveal their inner anxieties and turmoil. You see the men in their lives who both operate under the false belief that they know their wives better then the girls know themselves. They believe that they can save them (very chivalrous). I felt for these poor saps...their false assumptions weren't obnoxious but almost childlike in their tenderness and naivete.
Claire's personality is also revealed as contrasting to her sister's. I think this is where the connection to using music from Tristan and Isolde comes in to play (though I have to confess I only saw the movie version with James Franco (unf...Franco) and do not know the true version). I don't think the music alludes to the relationships between the girls and their husbands, but rather between the girls. Claire is Tristan-- very much cognizant of duty (to her family and taking care of her sister and to propriety rather than to a country or a King). She is the sensible one and her fears are rooted in the idea of a physical disaster occurring-- the crashing of Melancholia into the earth-- as well as pain and dying and taking care of her son. Justine is likened to Isolde-- the romantic. Her sadness comes from nothing. It's pure emotion. She seems most content alone, outside, captivated by the night sky or with her horse. I think it's beautiful that von Trier made this allusion of the sisters to a pair of star-crossed lovers.
To go off on a tangent, I thought it made absolutely no sense that Claire had an English accent and Justine did not or Claire's son or husband. Perhaps this was a nod to the fact that Tristan was British? That may be a reach though.
MISC.
I also thought that von Trier meant for the sisters to be compared to the heavenly bodies themselves. There's one beautiful scene that shows the sisters on the terrace and in the night sky on one side is the moon and on the other is melancholia. Or melancholia served to symbolize depression and anxiety generally. Melancholia's orbit around earth structurally mimics both of the sisters' emotions through the movie...coming closer to earth and receding, but then crashing with full force (despite the fact that its collision with earth was rationalized away by Claire's scientist husband).
One more general trend to comment on that I noticed. The degree to which characters responded to the Melancholia striking earth was inversely proportional to their rationality, maturity and 'sanity' throughout the movie. Justine, the most emotionally berserk of the characters, becomes the most sensible at the end of the movie (yet still retaining her romantic appeal by making the magic cave to quell the anxieties of her little nephew and her sister). Justine and her nephew are the most accepting of the impending doom of the planet whereas Claire becomes a blubbering mess, running around her property trying ridiculously to escape. Even still though, she tries to maintain propriety (which made me chuckle which may have been inappropriate) by suggesting wine and music on the terrace as the world ends because she just wants 'it to be nice'. This reaction, even though sensible under normal terms, seems absolutely irrational given the situation (an attitude that is vocalized explicitly by Dunst).
The most intense of reactions comes from Claire's husband, the scientist, who ends up ODing before Melancholia hits, completely abandoning his family and exposing himself as a coward. His character really pissed me off.
To sum it up, this movie gave me a lot to think about. I thought it had a good mix between internal human struggle and fantastical cinematography complemented well by the score from Tristan and Isolde giving it a twist of creepiness. It was beautiful to watch and I didn't know how many heavy hitters it contained cast-wise.
Cheers.
As an aside I really enjoy elipses. They're some sort of period, comma, hyphen hybrid and the ambiguity is satisfying. Also parentheses.
Also I hate the red squiggly lines that appear below words that I misspell. It's not so much really that I dislike the constructive criticism but more due to my apathy. So excuse typos. I apologize for being ignorant. I dislike typos just as much as the next anal retentive undergrad.
Also I'm going to use second person, sorry.
SO that's enough of that. I watched Melancholia by Lars von Trier last night (Also trainspotters with Ewan McGregor but it doesn't really incite much thought, good flick though). I saw the movie as a parallel between the two sisters, Justine and Claire (the latter I had to look up the character's name). Sort of a portrait of the two characters and their relations with their relatives.
JUSTINE
Dunst did an exceedingly good job at emoting deeply rooted sadness. Justine's affliction goes unnamed throughout the movie, and doesn't become overtly obvious until the second part ("Claire"). It's the type of sadness that one just has. The movie hints that it may be due to the dysfunctional relationship between her parents...her dramatic and confrontational mother and her vacant and unreliable father, but I think that her depression goes beyond that. Her emotions seem completely absurd in the situation-- she's at the reception of her marriage in a beautiful castle/mansion/golf course (a yuppie newlywed wet dream)-- yet she seeks solitude (rather uncouth), goes on a public diatribe against her boss, ends up fucking a random intern and ruins her marriage. That's sadness though, and makes complete sense in that way. Self-destruction, dissociation, etc.
Justine's segment of the movie radiates awkwardness and honestly made me uncomfortable. I think it was the quiet (except for brief interludes of music from the ballet Tristan and Isolde) and the intimate cinematography during the wedding party scenes...as if it could have been filmed with a handheld camcorder (with a very high quality lens or something). These attributes were juxtaposed harshly with the set which was elegant and idyllic in every sense and lit with the soft light of dusk and candlelight. This coupled with the costumes-- all beautiful floor length gowns and tuxedos-- made Justine's segment on the verge of absurd, almost hilarious, but definitely tragic. Like children running around playing dress-up.
CLAIRE
The sequence of claire's segment structurally paralleled Justine's. You see their public facades slowly peel away to reveal their inner anxieties and turmoil. You see the men in their lives who both operate under the false belief that they know their wives better then the girls know themselves. They believe that they can save them (very chivalrous). I felt for these poor saps...their false assumptions weren't obnoxious but almost childlike in their tenderness and naivete.
Claire's personality is also revealed as contrasting to her sister's. I think this is where the connection to using music from Tristan and Isolde comes in to play (though I have to confess I only saw the movie version with James Franco (unf...Franco) and do not know the true version). I don't think the music alludes to the relationships between the girls and their husbands, but rather between the girls. Claire is Tristan-- very much cognizant of duty (to her family and taking care of her sister and to propriety rather than to a country or a King). She is the sensible one and her fears are rooted in the idea of a physical disaster occurring-- the crashing of Melancholia into the earth-- as well as pain and dying and taking care of her son. Justine is likened to Isolde-- the romantic. Her sadness comes from nothing. It's pure emotion. She seems most content alone, outside, captivated by the night sky or with her horse. I think it's beautiful that von Trier made this allusion of the sisters to a pair of star-crossed lovers.
To go off on a tangent, I thought it made absolutely no sense that Claire had an English accent and Justine did not or Claire's son or husband. Perhaps this was a nod to the fact that Tristan was British? That may be a reach though.
MISC.
I also thought that von Trier meant for the sisters to be compared to the heavenly bodies themselves. There's one beautiful scene that shows the sisters on the terrace and in the night sky on one side is the moon and on the other is melancholia. Or melancholia served to symbolize depression and anxiety generally. Melancholia's orbit around earth structurally mimics both of the sisters' emotions through the movie...coming closer to earth and receding, but then crashing with full force (despite the fact that its collision with earth was rationalized away by Claire's scientist husband).
One more general trend to comment on that I noticed. The degree to which characters responded to the Melancholia striking earth was inversely proportional to their rationality, maturity and 'sanity' throughout the movie. Justine, the most emotionally berserk of the characters, becomes the most sensible at the end of the movie (yet still retaining her romantic appeal by making the magic cave to quell the anxieties of her little nephew and her sister). Justine and her nephew are the most accepting of the impending doom of the planet whereas Claire becomes a blubbering mess, running around her property trying ridiculously to escape. Even still though, she tries to maintain propriety (which made me chuckle which may have been inappropriate) by suggesting wine and music on the terrace as the world ends because she just wants 'it to be nice'. This reaction, even though sensible under normal terms, seems absolutely irrational given the situation (an attitude that is vocalized explicitly by Dunst).
The most intense of reactions comes from Claire's husband, the scientist, who ends up ODing before Melancholia hits, completely abandoning his family and exposing himself as a coward. His character really pissed me off.
To sum it up, this movie gave me a lot to think about. I thought it had a good mix between internal human struggle and fantastical cinematography complemented well by the score from Tristan and Isolde giving it a twist of creepiness. It was beautiful to watch and I didn't know how many heavy hitters it contained cast-wise.
Cheers.
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