Brain Trails

Okay. To show you what I have to deal with, I’m going to try to explain to you one of the many distractive -- I know it's not a word, I like it anyway -- thinking excursions I have to endure within my head on a regular basis. We’ll see if you can make it through this whole thing without totally giving up on me.

The better half and yours truly were watching David Lean’s Brief Encounter. It was amazing, of course. The only thing I didn’t think was great was the soundtrack, which is what a lot of people love about the movie. It’s all done on piano and seems a little soap opera to me, but that’s my own baggage, not any real fault of the movie.

Thing is, in key points of the film, a certain melodic line was used and it kept gnawing at me. I knew I’d heard it before, even though I’d never seen the movie before. Then, about an hour or so into the film I realized what it was. It was part of the melodic line of the song “Without You” by Harry Nilsson. “I can’t liiiiiiiiiiiiive if livin’ is without yooooooou.” It was plain as day.

So I’m thinking Nilsson lifted this from the movie.

But then I find out that the soundtrack of the movie was all Rachmaninoff pieces. I’ve never been a big fan. But he was a very famous piano man composer dude in spite of my distaste. They just decided that it was right for the film and that’s what they went with. So, I realize, Harry Nilsson probably lifted the melodic line from Rachmaninoff.

I needed to confirm this supposition. Needed.

So I went online and googled Nilsson and Rachmaninoff. I find out that “Without You” wasn’t even written by Nilsson, even though it was a big hit for him. It was actually written by a guy in Badfinger who later committed suicide. Ironically enough. But as for the connection, nothing comes up. No connection.

But one writer notes how the Eric Carmen power ballad "All By Myself" borrows heavily from “Without You” for tone and such, which spurs me to listen to THAT song, which I hadn’t heard in years and years, which reveals that THAT is the song that actually lifts the Rachmaninoff. I had them mixed up. Eric Carmen used the melody thinking it was public domain, which it wasn’t, so he had to make a deal with Rachmaninoff’s estate after the fact. Hmmmmmmmmmm...

I know. I know. All of this is ridiculous and pointless. But this is my brain. I can’t live with it. I can’t live without it. It’s almost as if I have to do what it tells me to do.



Peace to you.


© LW Publishing 2010

My Problem

Hey!


I have this problem.

When I go to museums I always, and let me stress the word – ALWAYS – get into trouble. Last summer I went with my buddy Joe to the Detroit Institute of Arts. On the way in I warned him that I ALWAYS get in trouble when I go to a museum. I ALWAYS get yelled at no matter how hard I try not to.

I confess. I have this compulsion to touch the paintings. I know it’s baaaaad. I know they’re worth millions of dollars. I know I shouldn’t do it. I don’t mean to do it. I don’t try to do it. But in my heart I want to do it and as hard as I try not to, I discover that I’m doing it again when the guards yell at me to get away from the paintings. It happens every time. It happened with van Gogh. It happened with Dali and Picasso. And it happened again last summer. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

We went into the DIA. They had a display of paintings by Norman Rockwell. A very humble and kind man who was an astounding painter. If you ever get the chance to see his paintings up close and personal be sure to do it. The colors are amazing. The expression and realism are incredible. He’s a modern magical realist of the painting world.

Are those enough superlatives for you?

The thing is that paintings are tactile things. They are a product of touch. A brush is just an extension of the hand. And when you see a painting up close you see how it was so carefully touched. You can see the brush strokes and the movement used to make shape and shadow. Light and the lack of it imitated on a flat surface. On some of the paintings by Rockwell, you could almost feel his hand moving across the canvas. There were also tiny little lines where a brush wouldn’t work so he took a pencil or a pen and used that instead. Sometimes you could vaguely see the shape of his original sketch behind the paint on the canvas.

From a distance you can’t see any of that. So you want to move in. You want to touch the canvas like Rockwell did when he painted it. Well, maybe you don’t want to, but...

It’s like looking at the paintings of the impressionists. The paintings seem to be a splash of odd shaped pixels across the canvas to make an image. The farther you stand from the painting the more “concrete” the image becomes. But if you really want to enjoy the painting, you also need to see it up close and get a feel for how the image was formed, piece by piece. You have to get your eyes right on the canvas. Your hand just wants to . . . touch it.

Which is when the security guards start yelling at you. Trust me, I know. And it seems almost criminal to me that we would have an art form that is so tactile, but you can’t touch it! It’s like torture! Oh, the humanity! The colors cry out to my phalanges!

You can pray for me on this. I thank you in advance.



Peace to you.

© LW Publishing 2010