1st Class Rock

Boarding passengers! Welcome to flight number 02-24^th to Camden. The captains are 1st Class Passengers, a quartet from Italy (yes, there is rock life over there!) whose music philosophy is clear: “if you think that Rock’N’Roll is just a nice logo on a t-shirt then stay awayf you think that Rock’N’Roll is just a nice logo on a t-shirt then stay awayf you think that rock ’n’ roll is just a nice logo on a t shirt, then stay away”. This is the kind of rock band one wants to listen to: no rebellion without a cause, no make believe, no trendy whoring out the music… it’s only rock ’n’ roll. f you think that Rock’N’Roll is just a nice logo on a t-shirt then stay awayIf Rimbaud and Verlaine (Paul, not Tom) still lived in Camden, they would have come to the gig, offered them some absinthe and written a poem about rock.

1st Class Passengers came all the way from Italy to play at Camden Rock, headliner of a four-band gig promoted by Hot Vox (music management, promotion and production company). But this is not their first nor last time in London, they have been impeccable guests at Proud Camden and Underbelly and they plan to come back to UK Rock Wonderland.

Please allow me to introduce these men careless of wealth and of certain taste. The band is: Lucian Beierling (vocals), Johnny Rotten’s charisma without that creepy Richard III aura, Federico Guarienti (guitar), a precise miniaturist whose brush is a Fender Telecaster, Stefano 'Stewie' Armati (bass), elegance between Joker and a tin soldier, and Brian Breno (drums), whose performance recalls Thor waving his hammer – without thunders. They all play and played in different bands, to satisfy all their music needs, and they constitute the final line-up of a project started one year ago.

The name definitely deserves a chapter on its own. It has to do with the concept of life as a journey, where we are all passengers in a naturally fatalistic Lebowskian way. But passengers are not puppets, as their music efficiently shows, and these passengers in particular want the trip to be first class. Leading on a stairway to Heaven or driving on a highway to Hell, this is the kind of music journey we want to be part of.

The flight departs after the performance of local bands Paradigm Shift, The Theme and The Underdogs. The airport is a rough stage in a dim lit room, among red walls and beer bottles. In front of black curtains stand microphone, Marshall amps and a shining white drumset facing the public from behind a circle of red flames… rock belongs to hell, ladies and gentlemen, saints are warned. The spectators are in a good mood, and promptly change from pub rock mood to earnest music mood after the first riffs.

In the 30 minutes they are given, 1st Class Passengers play no covers; the band personality emerges from the equilibrium among the four musicians, revealing shades of The Clash, Stone Temple Pilots, Queen Of The Stone Age and Rolling Stone. The hues of their music personality are so pleasantly bright and prismatic and they guarantee 1st Class Passengers a niche within the rock tradition. The songs flow in a crescendo of hard-labour sweat and passion, they play all the tracks on their EP "$oul", old glories like "Little Miss Rock 'n' Roll"and the new “I Can't Wait”, and after the last notes the public justly asks for more. And not in the shy way Oliver Twist did, it sounds more like James Hetfield in “Enter Sandman”.

Hunter S. Thompson defined the music business as "a cruel and shallow money trench, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free, and good men die like dogs”. Tonight 1st Class Passengers demonstrate some dogs prefer to live in trenches than sell to the enemy, in this case bad played, mass loved, soulless dollar-shaped music. They demonstrate that music skills are not a jazz thing, that soul is not only inside blues rhythms, that entertainment and cleverness can get along better than Liam and Noel Gallagher (Paul and John, Keith and Mick).

The end of the night is not the end of the flight, 1st Class Passengers airlines will be flying to London within months. Like a circus crew, they pack their props and leave in the night, serious clowns of rock ‘n’ roll. Talking music, you can’t usually say that, but tonight Italians do it better. And we want more.

Note: visit 1st Class Passengers facebook page at http://www.facebook.com/#!/1stclasspassengers. The recent switch of band components didn’t leave much time to update music and pictures, considering they are doing everything on their own and they also play in other bands. But they promised to work on their online promotion, and they look like the guys who keep promises…

On Blood: A Portrait of the Artist

“It would be more rock’n’roll if he showed up” jokes a journalist in a black leather jacket. As he points out, a musician that let the press wait (and eventually does not come to the Q&A at all), is such a cliché, especially when the musician is Peter Doherty (see Libertines and Babyshambles).  But even without his physical presence, his complex personality emerges from (or sinks into) the extraordinary amounts of objects he collected, a not inferior part of his solo exhibition.

Camden Town’s Cob Gallery, in association with Guts for Garters, presents Peter Doherty’s infamous blood paintings in the exhibition “On Blood: A Portrait of the Artist”, from February 26 until March 4. I asked Victoria (Cob Gallery), a young lady in a black pencil skirt with fairylike golden bleached hair and mauve hues, how did they think of Peter. “He thought of us”, she replied, highlighting the address of the Gallery, 205 Royal College Street, at the opposite end of that number 8 where Rimbaud and Verlaine lived. The accursed musician joins his beloved accursed poets.

Cassie (Guts for Garters), a regally elegant figure in a black trench dress on red velvet platforms (matching her lipstick and hair colour) explains the artist had approached them during their past exhibition “Anatomy”. He then mentioned his works with blood, and they promptly understood that such a controversial figure deserved a whole study, beyond the collective projects they usually do. There are so many objects in the room you hardly believe they belonged to only one person. “I think this is just a eight of what we found”, she adds, and you can see in her eyes the memory of the overwhelming view of his rooms, stuffed with vinyls, bottles, uniforms, guitars, tobacco cases… This eight is enough to make us feel like in the novel À Rebours, a catalogue of the curiosities collected by a Nineteenth Century aesthete. And while jumping into this literary painting we listen to the homonym Babyshambles’ song.

Peter chameleon tastes are the expression of a depth that separates him from today’s shallow and Shylock-like artists and musicians, and instead links him to the troubled souls of the Romantic poets, struggling to cope with the ‘unbearable lightness of being’. No surprise he is going to play the role of a Victorian writer in his upcoming movie Confession of a Child of the Century, he belongs there.

“His personality goes far beyond this exhibition […] you could do a whole exhibition on his literary influences.” As art lovers, the curators of “On Blood” couldn’t but be charmed by the artistic qualities of Peter. “This is a side of Peter Doherty you wouldn’t immediately think of”, states Rachel (Guts for Garters), purple blazer bordered with fur. In this temporary Wunderkammer you can find his Books of Albion, pictures of some of his memorabilia in the mansion he rent in Wiltshire, a portrait of his friend Peter Wolfe (with whom he recorded For Lovers), collaborations with Amy Winehouse, Charlotte Gainsbourg and Alizé Meurisse.

All the paintings contain blood, a literal metaphor of how much of himself Peter put in them. Cassie refers to this technique as a form of control, which unveils a rational thought behind the apparent folly of this extravagance. I chatted with Rachel about the means Peter chose to express himself through. “When you write a poem you manipulate something to express something inexpressible. Language is inability to describe emotions […] fine art does it”. And what is more expressive than your own blood?

If you wonder how Alice felt when jumping down the rabbit hole, or if you are interested in contemporary art with a Schile-like allure, have a look at “On Blood”. If you wish to discover Peter Doherty as an actor, wait until next summer for his movie Confession of a Child of the Century. If you want to enjoy his lyrical rock, visit the Yard Life Festival on April 28 (and help to raise money for Multiple Sclerosis Research). But even if you do all these things, you still will be unable to completely sum up his nature. In Boris Pasternak words “to belong to a type is the end of a man, his condemnation. If he doesn’t fall into any category, if he’s not representative, half of what’s demanded of him is there. He’s free of himself, he has achieved a grain of immortality.”

I would like to thank everyone at Cob Gallery and Guts for Garters for their kind and entertaining explanations.

L’Inspiration du Journalisme de Mode

Yesterday my mom informed me that the last issue of Vogue Italia was in the mailbox at my parent’s house in Italy. And here I mean not only the latest issue, but literally the last included in my subscription, which I did not renew after moving to England. Lucky me I can always find a copy in my university library here at UCA, maybe a little belated, but true beauty does not age.

On the sunset of my Vogue subscriber era I would like to spend some words on alluring fashion journalism. Since this is also my major, I am granted almost daily inspiration on anything within the field of creative arts by a team of lovely and brilliant professors and journalists. During a recent imaging class “my heart leaped up” when my teacher prised the long, accurate, stunning photo shots in Vogue Italia. Just look at the cover of the February issue by Steven Meisel, or check the backstage on vogue.it: unquestioned beauty, pure art and of course fashion, all in the extraordinary Vogue tradition.

Vogue Italia, February 2012

I want to make a point: fashion can be hideous, fashionista can be shallow, but fashion journalism is not a mere description of trends. Fashion journalism is not science, it is art, but this was repeated so many times it became a cliché… and eventually sank in oblivion. This is at least the first impression one gets by having a look at alas too many fashion blogs and style pages on magazines and newspapers. I think it is time to swipe the dust off this fashion cliché and remind the bored readers and the boring bloggers and journalists that fashion writing “must have blood and brain and pizazz”, to quote the movie Funny Face.

The same statement applies to the pictures that go hand in hand with fashion journalism and blogging. Fashion is not dull, so why should it be portrayed in words and images that do not show the same sense of amazement? Photo shots and articles should be so fascinating that butterflies still feel like caterpillars when they fly over them.  As if prettiness was only a matter of surface: a nice body, a nicely cut fabric and a famous name. Fashion is not nice, it is fabuleuse, wunderschön, meravigliosa… it is like Monet’s Water Lilies. Have you ever seen anything like that?

Any little girl old enough to write can describe a dress, a haircut or a lipstick. She will say that the lipstick is red, not ‘fierce burgundy’ or ‘spring strawberry’ or ‘rouge allure’ (the latter is the name of the most precious Chanel lipstick I have ever seen, 14 Passion is my shade). Of course to name a thing one must own the Shakespearean ‘seething brain’. One of the most inspirational women of the Twentieth Century, Diana Vreeland, thought that “the only real elegance is in the mind, if one got that, the rest really comes from it”. I acknowledged once again the truth of this statement today, while reading an article on the current American Vogue: “Blame it on the spring collections, where fashionable hearts found themselves fluttering in time to the wildly romantic overtures of a sorbet-colored shift or a shredded pastel hem. Suddenly, pretty sounded positively loaded with transformative potential.”

I will end as I started, talking about Vogue Italia, probably the most glamorously valuable published magazine, for a series of reasons that I will not spare to you. The artistic quality is undeniable, the ideas are as ordinary as a cacatua in the Highlands, the vocabulary is stretched and dig in depth, the visual part is a kaleidoscope of little pretty things and the director is Franca Sozzani. Everyday this creative woman dedicates a thought to her readers on her blog on vogue.it (that, lucky you, is also available in English). The website perfectly matches with the paper edition, enriched with anything you could possibly love about the couture realm and its surroundings. One of the pearls of the website are the Vogue Dolls, 5 belles each with her look of the day, combining the last trend of showing outfits to the fashion illustration tradition.

La fête n’est pas finie for today’s (wannabe) journalists, bloggers and photographers: a whole world of creativity is waiting for your wit. Open the last issue of Vogue Italia, be enchanted by the images page after page, if you can read eagerly every single line and fancy the stories behind that glossy coloured paper. Be inspired, wear your glasses, put your hands on the keyboard or on your scrapbook and create the poetry of tomorrow’s fashion carillon.

My Pink Game by Noumeda Carbone
http://www.vogue.it/en/trends/the-trend-blog/2012/02/my-pink-game-nuomeda-carbone

Creativity

Creativity: the use of imagination or original ideas to create something; inventiveness (Oxford Dictionary). Applicable to all the arts, and more.

 Destroyers

Egocentrism.

When somebody thinks he is better than each and everyone, creation becomes mere self-glorification, and it is not creative anymore. It is the same difference between composing to serve the song and composing to satisfy the musician.

 Availability.

There is simply too much of everything. This (partially positive) democratization of creation lowered the general quality of the products. Anybody can express himself, but not anybody is creative enough to deserve a public.

 Money.

The engine of creation is money. It is not art for art’s sake, or the activity itself, or the feeling we got from it. The more money we can make with an idea, the better: is this creativity?

 Retromania.

“Pop culture addiction to its own past” Simon Reynolds, Retromania). In fashion and music for example, we have a feeling that everything has already been done, that in the past decades we had such good products that the new ones have to be old to be good. This is partially true: maybe we cannot change the ‘what’, but we can change the ‘how’.

Creators

Reason.

Human beings think (not all of them, and not always), and by think I don’t mean the mere cerebral activity necessary to life. I mean the activity of processing feelings and information, tell good from bad, create.

"Aufklärung ist der Ausgang des Menschen aus seiner selbstverschuldeten Unmündigkeit."

[Enlightenment is the exit of man from his self-caused intellectual minority.]

Immanuel Kant, Beantwortung der Frage: Was ist Aufklärung?

 Self-preservation.

Progress is based on values, culture and invention. Creativity is essential to culture and invention, therefore to the development and well-being of society.

“Through our engagement in art we gain culture. Culture makes us more human; elevates.”

Vivienne Westwood, Manifesto #2 – Active Resistance to Propaganda

 Love.

Art for art’s sake. We create because we enjoy the act of creation and because we love ourselves and we want to be happy. We love the products of creation as well, we love beauty, the beauty of shape and meaning and soul.

“When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty" that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.”

John Keats, Ode on a Grecian Urn

 Curiosity.

We are curious, desirous to know and create. Knowledge and culture alone are not enough, we have to use them to create, and if you are always curious, you will be also desirous to create.

“fatti non foste a viver come bruti,
ma per seguir virtute e canoscenza.”

[you were not made to live as brutes, but to follow virtue and knowledge.]

Dante, Divine Comedy, Hell, Canto XXVI

 Individualism.

Uniqueness. Thinking that you are different from everybody else can be negative, but sometimes it is not: when you express your difference through creativity.

“Le Poète est semblable au prince des nuées
Qui hante la tempête et se rit de l'archer;
Exilé sur le sol au milieu des huées,
Ses ailes de géant l'empêchent de marcher.”

[The poet resembles this prince of clouds
Who hunts the tempest and laughs at the bowman;
When exiled on the ground among the hoots
His giant wings prevent him from walking.]

Charles Baudelaire, L’Albatross

…creativity in a new form