Friday, March 20

A contemporary artist of which I am currently fond.

My friends know that I rarely find myself fascinated with living authors or artists, or even interested in contemporary movements. (I'm about to tell you about an artist I really like right now.) This changed a little when I went to Paris a few years ago--something about the place reminded me that it is still possible to see artists as representatives of their art and admirable in their own right for expressing themselves accurately. It takes guts to say what you mean and make yourself vulnerable by telling everyone how you see the world. I know that's not the best way to explain what artists do. I could never claim to "explain" Art. Forgive my bumbling?

But it was my sister's birthday a week ago, and my parents bought her two tickets to the Morrissey concert here AND SHE CHOSE ME TO GO WITH HER. (Which is officially awesome in its own right.) I had heard Morrissey with familiar affection since forever ago--he's been a public figure since before I was born--and my older sister only introduced me to his voice a few years ago when late-night highway drives made it possible for us to appreciate blasting our poor little Honda speakers.

[The day before the concert, we went to check out the venue.]

The Smiths are all quite excellent &c., but have you actually taken the time to listen to Morrissey's voice? Put on your best headphones and anything with his voice in it. Loud enough you can hear his voice properly. Just listen to his voice. Everything else comes in second.

So, the first time I realised how much I loved that sound was when the only track I had on my iPod was Neverplayed Symphonies and I was desperately trying not to be cranky and backseat-drive for my dad as we wound round about places in England we hadn't meant to be. Quite possibly what happened there was me falling in love with a song. That happens, sometimes.


[A really awful picture I took with my iPhone of the Warner Theatre interior before the concert started. Cameras weren't allowed, so I didn't take any during the concert.]

Anyway, the concert was brilliant. I was completely entranced. The music was wonderful, the stage presence of all was really nice--they seemed accessible and (heaven forbid) real. Human. I really could have sat there all night. All week. I'd love to hear Morrissey read poetry, but then that might be even more dangerous than his singing voice. After the concert started the interview and biography readings . . . After the initial obsession (of last week, which was long enough for me as I tend to read and think a lot--and he is still alive, remember), I have decided that I like Morrissey and his music.

Yes. Just like that. A living musical artist that I like. I shall now proceed to buy his music, if I can figure out what media are being used these days . . . mp3, still? Are CDs being phased out yet? I need a record player.

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