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Friday C and I went to see Leviathan at the MAC, a loose dance adaptation of Moby Dick. We ran into friends in the bar and chatted about theremins (I still don't know how you can play one with a cat and still have a face) and nostalgia for cassette tapes. The actor playing Ahab was superb - stalking about in undershirt and cargo pants with the energy of the obsessed and lost, followed by his crew like the Ascent of Man diagram (he turned to fell them all with a mimed gun); laying ropes across stage to trap his whale only to have his own leg snared, clutching at lights while he was hauled behind the curtain. The Leviathan herself rolled and undulated in splendid isolation, totally indifferent to her hunter. The crew turned whales themselves in the second act and ran Ahab down under their wave. A wonderful production, soundtracked by great Polish folk/ambient music.

I went back to my parents' earlier in the week. The field next door has been levelled (the smallholder died last year); sheds dismantled, gorse uprooted, the grass raked through. I thought of the times I'd rooted through the cinder-pit in the corner as a child, finding bones and bits of crockery. A bit of the past gone. I don't think that influenced my decision to hack my hair back to a collar-length bob. I haven't seen any foxes on the land in months but the jackdaws seem to be multiplying at least. I once told H I felt at home anywhere I heard them calling. Back at home I was on the balcony and watched a carrion crow scrabbling through the gutter above my head to find a crust of brown bread (dropped, I guess, by another bird). We looked each other in the eye, which was quite a thing.

Currently reading the new Mieville, "The Last Days of New Paris", which is great fun and has more than a whiff of his earlier novella "The Tain". I just discovered that R4 are doing a two-part dramatisation of "War of the Worlds" next week, and that makes me extremely happy. Less happy-making is my LJ's refusal to let me use the visual editor when writing a post. It's a small pain in the arse not to be able to post pictures and links or tag anyone. Any advice?

Comments

( 5 comments — Leave a comment )
sovay
Feb. 26th, 2017 08:11 pm (UTC)
and you're draped in kelp, below by 8000 feet

If this is from your current music, I can see I'll need to give it a listen.

The Leviathan herself rolled and undulated in splendid isolation, totally indifferent to her hunter. The crew turned whales themselves in the second act and ran Ahab down under their wave.

That sounds great.

I thought of the times I'd rooted through the cinder-pit in the corner as a child, finding bones and bits of crockery. A bit of the past gone. I don't think that influenced my decision to hack my hair back to a collar-length bob.

Photographs?
ashlyme
Feb. 26th, 2017 08:23 pm (UTC)
*If this is from your current music, I can see I'll need to give it a listen.*

I'll post a link to the Carrion video (and a bobbed photo) to Facebook; it's less faff than here, alas.

*That sounds great.*

It was magical! I went in expecting the worst and was captivated instead.
sovay
Feb. 27th, 2017 08:37 am (UTC)
I'll post a link to the Carrion video (and a bobbed photo) to Facebook; it's less faff than here, alas.

Thanks to your link, I am as we speak enjoying The Decline of British Sea Power (2003), having previously enjoyed their complete scores to Man of Aran (2009) and From the Sea to the Land Beyond (2013). Thank you!
ashlyme
Feb. 27th, 2017 10:39 pm (UTC)
I'm really glad you like the album! It's almost perfect.
sovay
Mar. 2nd, 2017 09:32 am (UTC)
I'm really glad you like the album! It's almost perfect.

I missed it completely when it came out. I'm not crazy about "The Lonely," probably because it is the only song on the album that sounds like a halfway normal pop song, but everything else is an amazing blend of neck-jolting noise and deep time. At the moment I think "Apologies to Insect Life," "Fear of Drowning," "Carrion," and "Lately" are my favorites, but the former is one of the most angular pieces of post-punk I have heard since Mission of Burma and the latter has a clear advantage in that I have never before heard a singer break down screaming "Do you like my megalithic rock?" before. All of the choruses are killer; they have the ability to make very simple lyrics ("Oh, remember me / Well, you'll remember me," "As you black out / Black out again, my love," "Oh, bring it in and let us see it / Oh, let us see it") sound incredibly charged and haunting. They have the absurdist quality I associate with a lot of good punk, too—yelping the same line from a skiffle classic over and over until it's both semantically meaningless and lost in the guitar fuzz anyway. "Who's a little Caesar taking on the world? Who's a little Caesar breaking all the records?" Are the rest of their non-soundtracks all like this?

Edited at 2017-03-02 09:35 am (UTC)
( 5 comments — Leave a comment )