Tag: garden

Worms, Soil, Sounds

On June 23, 2012

Summer makes posting blogs here difficult because a/ it’s festival season, meaning I’m busy reporting (and interviewing awesomely cool people like Bettye LaVette, woot!); b/ when I’m not writing I’m researching and doing the social media thing; and c/ when I’m not doing either of those (which takes up a fair chunk of time in any given day), I’m trying to do all the things I promised myself I’d do, namely, read more fiction, and expand my musical knowledge, as I wrote about in my last post.

Oh, and when I’m not doing THAT, I’m in the garden.

Along with a few discoveries amidst the weeds and ever-shifting soil, I’ve made a few musical ones too. (Soundcheck, you’d be proud!)

First, I sat down and finally listened to the entirety of Some Girls, by The Rolling Stones something I’d not done before. The reissue bonus track “Keep Up Blues” was my favorite – the corollaries between it and contemporary rap were especially striking, as was Mick’s sexy, strutting delivery. I could practically see him thrusting hips and lips out in the studio. Brilliant. Hot. Listen.

Secondly, Tumblr is really becoming my mode of choice to discover new music. I came across English band the xx only today, and was struck by the way they’re able to combine verbal and sonic poetry in one gorgeous package. This song is also wildly romantic, as reflected in the lyrics:

And I’ll cross oceans, like never before
So you can feel the way I feel too
And I’ll mirror images back at you
So you can see the way I feel too

The rhythmic repetition of such simple words and sounds is beautifully echoed in an aching series of guitar lines, making for a very haunting (if addictive) listen.

Speaking of rhythmic combinations of words and music… this is amazing:

It’s taken from Strange Passion, a compilation of Irish post-punk and experimental music that’s recently been released through Rough Trade. Irish music site Thumped.com wrote in their review of the album that “this compilation has become crucial, already. Hats off to all involved.” I take that “crucial” to be applicable to anyone interested in not only the history of modern Irish music, but in understanding where we are now, in our very synth-sounding world.

I love “Fire From Above” because it’s so amazingly modern, and again, has a gorgeous poetry that references both the clinical emotional calculation of Kraftwerk, along with a certain menacing joy that totally reminds of early 80s New York sounds. The chords are lifted right from Pachelbel’s (in)famous Canon, but have a bouncy synth beat beneath them. And the words are just as moving, with an old-world weariness and youthful exuberance, combined with a rhythmic interplay with their synthesized accompaniments that makes you listen in just that much closer.

Here’s to digging up more good stuff as the summer progresses.

Art: Love It. You Gotta.

By Catherine Kustanczy

On August 19, 2009

In art

I’m sitting in my garden, swatting away the wasps (or rather, blowing on them gently so as not to irritate) and enjoying the cool morning breezes after a string of deadly-hot, gorgeously-summery days. And yes, I’m on the computer. But really, what better office than one that afford a view of an English garden and the sounds of chirping birds?

Like many, checking Twitter has become a regular part of my day. It’s actually become the norm, and one of my main sources of information. Whenever I’m curious about what is going on at an exact moment in time, anywhere across the globe, all I have to do is take a quick look at the “twizipper,” as I call it, and I’m updated with a myriad of bits and bites -everything from mundane, me-spouting techno-narcissists to breaking world events to opinions, causes, and links to nutty, inane videos. I’ve been very interested to read (and enjoy) the tweets of artist Damien Hirst. You may recall that Hirst is the artist famous for his exhibitions of animals suspended in formaldehyde. He is also the artist behind the diamond-encrusted skull, though I find his paintings the most beautiful. Reading his tweets -and the links leading to his most-hilarious, smart blog -I’ve begun the realize the fun that can be had with a medium like Twitter to share, communicate, connect, question, and contemplate. I really wonder what someone like Warhol would’ve made for it; his “15 minutes of fame” dictum seems to have shrunk to 140 characters.

Anyway, taking a look through Hirst’s blog again this morning, I was reminded why art -and artists -continue to inspire and inform the different aspects of my life. His stream-of-consciousness entry about art and its essential meaning -part truth, part seeking, all sarcasm -will, I am sure, seem different at night than it does in the morning light (by which I mean, more menacing and less airy -which is probably as he intended it). But there is also a definite spirit of playfulness with these entries -the M&Ms, the chewing gum, the bladder-related silliness. It’s as if he’s reducing the high-falutin’ ways art is thought of (capital “A” art -as in, “I am an Artist!” -come on, we all have a friend who’s pronounced or written those embarrassing words) while at the same time forced a re-think of what true art is, how we perceive it, how we interact with it, and what it means to us in daily life. This is, at least to me, the entire point of Hirst’s career.

“Using your brain to make art is so last year!” he writes. Oh, Damien. You make me think, laugh, play, and look at the world -online and otherwise, inner and outer -in entirely new ways. Now I want to get my hands filthy in paint and conte. Think I’ll hold off on the skull-creating… at least for now.

Addendum: Damien Hirst enough actually re-tweeted the link to this posting yesterday. A squeak of joy erupted from the patio once I realized this. It was enough to scare the wasps off, however temporarily. Thank you, Mr. Hirst. Wow. Thank you.

Addendum #2: Damien isn’t Damien. Aaah, now it all makes sense. Don’t care. Still flattered.

Gardening = Playing

By Catherine Kustanczy

On March 2, 2009

Gardening is work. Digging, planting, watering, weeding, fertilizing, and chasing various pesky creatures away (through sprays, gates, and other means) can be a pain. But the results can be so good.

As a kid, I remember having a huge, sprawling garden in the backyard. We lived in what was then country, and we had the luxury of having a huge yard with few neighbours and even less traffic. Cucumbers, peppers, tomatoes, zuccini and squash, along with raspberries and strawberries, plus fruit trees in the front yard (apple, peach, pear and plum), meant that we didn’t need to go up the road to the farmer’s market too often (except, perhaps, for cherry and blueberry pies… mmm). My great uncle, who tended everything, was a salt-of-the-earth kind of guy who didn’t believe in commercial spraying or fertilizers, so everything was organic by default, and using compost was just the norm.

Living in a more urban environment now, surrounded by development sprawl, the idea of having a backyard garden hasn’t been much of a consideration, until recently. I’d wanted to plant a few things last year, but then I got busy with other projects. This year, I’m determined to try. Being a foodie and a closet gardener (okay, not anymore…), it just seems to make sense now. I know it’ll involve a lot of digging-up and roto-rooting, composting and aereating, but I have faith. There’s something deeply satisfying to me about getting hands (and feet, in my case) dirty with food you’re growing to eat yourself (and share). It’s good for everyone, and everything. Food, in itself, is part of culture; the symbiotic relationship it has in terms of care, process, tending and development, isn’t that dissimilar to other art forms.

I can’t wait for the performance to begin.