#Establishing Artist Repertoire

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

Like A Good Neighbor... | Cillian Murphy x fem!Reader

Summary| She grew up next-door to Cillian Murphy and he was her first sexual awakening. When her dad hosts a promiscuous book club meeting, she decides she's waited long enough.

Warnings| Mentions of Lolita and plays heavily on Lolita-core and daddy-kinks. Large age-gap, dubious consent, p in v sex, stalking, smut. Please read with caution!

It Probably Matters- Interpol 🎶

Born Too Late- The Poni-Tails 🎵

The Perfect Girl- Mareux 🎶

word count: 3082k

Minors do not interact! Does not reflect Cillian Murphy as an actual person- this is pure imagination and projection. Don’t interact if you find mentions of “Lolita” upsetting.

She could see through the parted curtains in his kitchen window that he was home. He was at the sink washing dishes with a towel thrown over one shoulder. His tight black shirt showed the curve of muscles in his upper arms as he scrubbed the pan. She was the girl-next-door type, helplessly petite and needy. She was nineteen and finally getting the stereotypical sex-drive that teenagers were criticized for. She was always horny now, and it felt like an unwavering flaw or weakness that placed her at odds wherever she went. 

Her daddy issues obviously didn’t help the matter… or maybe it was because she was a scorpio.  

She lived alone with her delusional father, who was an Irish author and playwright. He taught literature at the local university and loved expensive liquor. She was going to university for free because her father worked there, but she also stayed at home, trapped in her sexually repressed childhood bedroom. She stayed out of her father’s way when he was home but whenever he hosted “book-club” at their house, she found herself sneaking down the stairs to chat (flirt) with her father’s friends. The “book-club” was for the men in the neighborhood, to give them a social circle of their own, keep them from joining scary alt-right reddit pages by establishing connections with the men around them, something like that she imagined. 

Cillian Murphy was part of this “book-club” that met once a month in her father’s house. He was a middle-aged actor with an A-list repertoire, and yet, he still socialized with the regular neighborhood men, as if he wasn’t acting out some of the books they read each month. 

He was also a bachelor and hideously attractive. She met him when she was much younger, still in highschool and convinced that she would be an actress but discovered quickly that she was more of an artist. He’d given her short acting lessons, reading recommendations, and advice whenever she asked. He was like a second father, a better father than her actual father ever could be. He was the first person she masturbated about. She learned at an early age that she could spy on him from her bedroom window. She watched him read at night on his sofa, she watched him take home other women and fuck them on the couch when he was too horny to take them to bed, and she’d watched him masturbate to porn he projected on his small flatscreen tv. His taste in porn was pretty vanilla and it bored her, but she liked watching him touch himself, indulge himself. It was a serious turn-on. 

And the cherry on top was the book they’d read for that month: Lo-fucking-lita. 

She imagined that he got off to reading about a girl and an older man, that he fisted himself after he read at night, and that he thought of her when he did it. She was his Lo-fucking-lita. She had purposefully avoided the meeting that night, staying upstairs in her bedroom while the men discussed “literature” (Lolita). She wanted them to worry that she would come downstairs any minute while they were discussing such a nasty, disturbing topic. She wanted them to speak haltingly and glance up at her bedroom, she wanted Cillian to think about her and how dirty it was that they had read such a book, all the while she was upstairs. She took a long shower and washed her hair with fragrant shampoo. She moisturized her legs and dabbed her neck with perfume. She changed into her pajamas (underwear, a big t-shirt she’d swiped from Cillian’s house during a neighborhood get-together and she’d ruined her dress with salsa). She let her hair air-dry and rolled on her socks. She heard the men begin to leave, somewhat intoxicated, and watched as Cillian cleaned up his dishes left in his sink. 

When he went back into his bedroom, she flew into action. She put on her slippers and sneaked down the staircase to the first floor. Her father was in the recliner, asleep, so she crept past and closed the side door behind her as she left. She walked the few feet separating the two houses and knocked lightly on Cillian’s door. She knocked again. And eventually, Cillian emerged from his bedroom in boxers and the same tight black shirt. He raised his eyebrow as he opened the door and let her in. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, worried. He glanced over at her house. 

“Nothing, I just need some advice and my dad’s asleep.” She rolled her eyes and he nodded. 

“Yeah, yeah. Come in.” He waved her inside and locked the door behind them. She dragged a finger along the fabric of the couch, searching its surface for evidence of what she’d seen from her bedroom window. 

“This place has changed so much since I was a kid.” She observed (lying of course). 

“Yeh, I’ve tried to update everything, some remodeling.” He nodded. “So, what kind of advice do you need?” He sighed and leaned against the kitchen counter beside her. 

“Mmhm. Fatherly advice.” She shrugged. 

“Oh, so is this about a boy then?” He laughed and rubbed his eyes. 

“I don’t know how much help I can be. Boy’s your age are so much different than how I was.” He shook his head and rested it against his palm. 

“I know, that’s the problem.”

“Mhm?” 

“I don’t know. It’s embarrassing.” She laughed and crossed her arms across her breasts. He looked down at her shirt and pointed. 

“Hey, isn’t that my shirt?” 

“Mmhm no, it's mine.” She lied and pulled down the front hem to inspect the words “Yoko Ono” on the front. 

“I swear I have one just like that.” He walked off to his bedroom and she followed, a skip in her step. He opened his dresser and rummaged through the stack of neatly folded shirts. His clothes smelled like fabric softener and men’s deodorant. He didn’t find it and she gasped. 

“Oh my god, you’re right. I just remembered that you lent this to me when I was here years ago and spilled salsa or something on my dress!” She slapped a hand across her forehead and he nodded slowly. 

“Wow, that was so long ago. I’d completely forgotten.” 

“Here, you can have it back.” She said slowly and watched his eyes widen as she slipped it over her head and handed it to him. Her bare breasts shook from the movement and she smiled. “What?” She asked innocently. He looked away but it was too late, he’d already taken her in, his eyes lingering on her full breasts, waist, and wide hips. 

“What are you doing?” He hissed as if someone could hear and turned away from her. 

“Returning your shirt.” She answered nonchalantly and fixed her wedgie, letting the material snap back against her butt. 

“You can’t do that, Y/N. It isn’t appropriate.” His face reddened as he clutched the shirt in his fist. 

“You don’t like this?” She pouted. 

“Of course not. You’re young enough to be my daughter, I-” He spoke quickly. 

“I think you like it, Cillian.” She interrupted him and trailed a finger down his clothed back. 

“Why?” He sputtered innocently. 

“Because… you’re still holding my shirt.” She pointed to the shirt still in his hands. 

“Christ!” He covered his eyes and tossed the shirt onto the bed. She crawled onto the duvet, her knees sinking into the plush material. 

“If I put on the shirt, will you still give me the advice I needed?” She sat down on her knees and licked her lips. He sighed and nodded into his hands. 

“Yeh, yeh I guess so. Just put the shirt on.” 

When she had the shirt back on, she leaned up against the headboard. “Ok, you’re good.” 

He opened his eyes and exhaled loudly. “Alright, what is it?” His eyes were wildly dark and hungry but he used his acting talent to hide it. She saw right through his performance, namely because his erection grew inside his boxers. 

“It's more of a question than advice, really,” she started. 

“Ok.” He nodded, exhaling again. 

“What did you think of Lolita?” She shifted back into a sitting pose in front of him. “I wasn’t able to stop by during the meeting, so, I want to know.” 

“Fuck, Y/N. Why do I have the feeling that this isn’t what you’re really asking me?” He shook his head. 

“No, you’re right. What I really want to know, I guess, is did you masturbate while you read it? Did it turn you on when you thought about her? Did you touch yourself and think of fucking a younger girl like her,.... Or like me?” She rose onto her knees and breathed against his wide lips. “Would you be Humbert Humbert mhm?” She reached down and played gently with his erection. He withheld his moan, closing his eyes to show how they rolled to the back of his head. 

“Y/N, you can’t ask me things like that.” He protested, but didn’t push her away. 

“I’m sorry. Let me rephrase: Have you ever thought about fucking me?” She traced her tongue around his lips, her hands prodding his erection. 

“No.” He whispered unconfidently and she smiled.

“What’s this then?” She reached down into his boxers and took out his penis, running her hands along the length. He said nothing, fighting his internal desire to stay and come as she stroked him. 

“We-we can’t.” He opened his eyes abruptly and stepped away, still very much hard. 

“Yes, we can.” She reached for him and he reluctantly stepped forward again. “I’ve been thinking about you. I can’t stop thinking about you, Cillian. I get so wet when I think of you and my pussy throbs, I have to touch myself.” She whined softly.

He looked down at her lips and breathed shakily.  

“I think that you think about me too, don’t you?” She rose slowly on her knees and kissed him softly, her lips barely resting on his. She reached down to the hem of his shirt and pulled it up and over his head. 

“Touch me, please.” She whimpered and he looked down at her shirt, his hands shaking as they snaked up her chest. 

“If your father found out…” 

“I’m 19. I can make my own decisions.” She kissed him and sucked on his top lip. He moaned against her. 

“Fuck…” He grunted and gave in, abandoning his pitiful battle to deny her. He tugged off her shirt and pushed her back on the bed. 

“Do you want me to say that I’m a virgin? Does it turn you on to think that I’m a virgin?” She smiled and licked her lips seductively. 

“No, don’t say that, Y/N.” He pushed her farther onto the bed and climbed on top of her. 

“Well what do you want me to say, old man?” She laughed and wiggled beneath his weight. 

“Tell me that you want me.” His voice came out as a growl, as he held her down on the bed, his hands stretched out against her’s over her head. 

“Ooooo,” she purred against his lips, “I want you sooo bad, Cillian! Is that what you want?” She licked his lips childishly and rubbed the inside of her thigh up his leg. 

“Fuck, don’t do this, love. I don’t like it when you tease me.” He exhaled against her cheek, his nose running over her soft, plump cheekbones. His erection pressed against the seam of his boxers and he rubbed his crotch against her panties. He could feel how wet she was through the two layers of fabric. 

“I’m sorry, Cilian.” She pouted, her breasts bounced briefly against her open ribcage and he lowered his mouth to swirl his tongue around her nipple. She hummed in pleasure, squeezing her thighs around Cillian to keep him between her. He chuckled. 

“See, I don’t need you to tell me that you want me, I can already tell, but what I want is for you to beg me, practically fuck me by yourself because you so desperately need to feel me inside you.” He kneeled above her and placed his hand on her navel, his thumb teasing the fabric of her waistband. She blushed and wiggled again, her clit throbbing. His thigh was positioned right up against her sex, he looked down and chuckled. 

“I can feel your heartbeat through your cunt, darling.” His hand slid further down into her panties, brushing against the hair at her entrance. “It’s beating so fast, darling. Are you scared?” He pouted and cupped her cunt in his hand, gently. “Are you scared of me fucking you?” He rubbed her clit in small circles, his erection grew harder and she bit her lip. 

“No, I want you to make me feel good.” She raised her chin defiantly and he smiled. 

“Good girl.” He leaned over her and whispered in her ear, “call me daddy.” 

“Mhmm, please daddy.” She started to shake with need as he rubbed her clit. She sat up and forced him down on the bed, straddling him on her knees. He ran his hands up her warm thighs as she moved her hips back and forth against his erection. 

“Have you thought about me as much as I’ve thought about you?” She asked him between kisses.

“God, yes.” He groaned back and moved his hands up to the soft flesh of her stomach beneath her ribcage. 

“I’ve been so fucking horny, daddy.” She moaned dramatically and smiled when he closed his eyes and groaned, thrusting up into her underwear. “I see you when you fuck those women on your couch. I know they aren’t pleasing you like I could, daddy. I touch myself when you fuck them, it gets me so wet thinking of you inside me. I want to make you cum, daddy.” She slithered down his chest and licked the outside of his boxer shorts. He watched her, his pupils shot. 

“You have, eh?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Uh huh.” She mewed and pulled down the waistband of his underwear, exposing his large dick. She spat on it, a long string of drool dripping from her mouth. “I think you’re gonna be too big for me, daddy.” She licked the tip of his cock and he threw his head back, his mouth agape.

“Fucking hell. Look at what you’re doing to me and I haven’t even felt your fucking pussy yet.” He groaned and grabbed a fistfull of her hair, twirling it around his knuckles. She smiled and took him in her mouth, swirling her tongue around his shaft before pushing him down her throat. He moaned breathlessly and panted. She cupped his balls and hummed against his cock, drooling all over him. He pulled on her hair and his panting got quicker as he closed his eyes.

“Fuck, baby. Fuck… ah FUCK!” He cried as she went faster and squeezed at the base of his cock. “You’re such a good fucking girl. Come here.” He ordered and opened his arms to take her. She released him from her mouth and sat on his lap, facing him. 

“Sit on it.” He whispered and twirled a strand of her hair between his fingers. She gasped quietly as his other hand pulled her underwear to the side and directed her to sit on his erect cock. She raised herself up slightly before going back down on him. He slid roughly into her, his girth a little too large. 

“Fuck, daddy!” She cried and her hands steadied herself on his navel. 

“I know, I know, baby. You’re just so tight, yeh?” He pouted and moaned as she wiggled on him. “Take you time, darling. I love being inside you.” He whispered and kissed her roughly, surrounding her in his arms. He pulled her closer to his chest and pushed himself up further inside her and she squealed. She cried out as he started to move in and out of her. 

“Ahh yeah! Oh, please fuck me!” She moaned against his shoulder. 

“Fuck, I love it when you plead me like that. You’re so fucking desperate.” He groaned and sped up, hitting the base of her uterus each time. Her walls swallowed him and squeezed him. It felt so good she couldn’t speak, she could only cry out with each hard thrust. He held her on his lap and he flipped them over and hovered above her. He pulled out and pulled down her panties impatiently and tossed them to the foot of his bed. He took one of her legs and put it over his freckled shoulder. 

“You’re going to take me like a good girl, understand?” He stayed inside her but didn’t move as he looked down at her red face. She nodded eagerly. 

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl.” He smiled and started thrusting deeply and quickly but with experienced skill. He looked up as he chased his orgasm, his brows furrowed as he moaned. She gripped his throat gently, encouraging him to fuck her faster. 

“Are you going to come, daddy?” She cried and he nodded. 

“Yeah, fuck yeah. I’m gonna fill you up. You and your little pussy.” He panted and looked down as his cock went in and out harshly against her cunt. He removed the leg from his shoulder and took a pillow from the bed. 

“Lift up your ass.” He ordered and she did as he asked, moaning against the pressure of his stiff cock. He put the pillow under her ass and pulled her hips right against his. He barely pulled out as he fucked her fast and hard. His balls slapped her loudly and she covered her mouth to keep from screaming. 

“That’s it, that’s it. Fuck yes!” He yelled as his movements spasmed. She felt him cum inside her, his hot cum spilling between his cock and her walls. She cried out as she organsmed and shook with each wave of lingering pleasure. Cillian slowly took out his cock and looked down at the cum spilling out of her. 

“That was so good, daddy.” She smiled breathlessly and he chucked. 

“You were so good, love. You were such a good girl for me. So grown up.” He teased her and kissed her, his hands finding the handles of her hips. “You’re such a fucking pillow princess.” He laughed and went back to kissing her. 

[lillified]

I love your versions of the decepticons but I do have a question! I honestly love tarn and his brooding nature, so I wanted to know what happened to him? Why’s his face absolutely destroyed and why does he hate megatron,,?

hey, that’s a good question! I believe I’ve answered something similar in the past re: Tarn’s deal, but I can rephrase it again+give some additional context below the cut!

Tarn and Megatron have a very similar background. Both come from low-caste professions (Megatron, obviously, a miner, and Tarn a construction hauler) and both became gladiators to an impressive degree of celebrity. Tarn was an artist in his own right, being a musician and composer (which wasn’t as broadly commercially appealing as Megatron’s writer-artist repertoire, but certainly attracted its fans).

On Cybertron, gladiators have their own sort of “stardom.” Regular audiences aren’t just invested in the sport, but the story behind it, and so the performers become “characters” in themselves. Established fighters often have a dedicated fanbase, lore, and even “managers” or “agents” to manage that public persona. These “careers” can be lucrative, but, unsurprisingly, very brief.

In his heyday, Tarn was everything the gladiator celebrity complex favors: young, charismatic, attractive, skilled, and, above all, marketable. The music he made enhanced his character, and, in turn, his gladiatorial feats promoted his music. He found a degree of purpose in his popularity.

Tarn’s era of celebrity ended when, in his closest match, he lost his face. He survived, but this spoiling took away the foremost aspect of his fame—his identity (in the past I’ve talked about the culture around faces and their irreplaceability, which applies here). Having no choice but to wear a pit mask to protect his exposed interior, he gradually faded out of popularity, in favor of the new wave of rising stars. Over time his music lost its audience and he became cemented in the second rate.

When Megatronus came along, she was quick to gain notoriety for the same reasons Tarn had, with a very similar audience. It was almost natural that she would fill the same niche, with a similar backstory, skillset, and audience appeal. Tarn immediately became jealous, but also couldn’t resist the familiar pull of a world he’d been unceremoniously excommunicated from: in Megatron, he found a way to live vicariously, and quickly began to see her as some parallel proxy for his lost ambitions. All gladiator friendships are underscored by a sort of tired acceptance of impending doom, but, in Tarn’s case, he abused their gallows goodwill to be an extremely two-faced fairweather friend.

Though they certainly shared some traits, Megatron and Tarn were notably different. Where Tarn found earnest purpose in his success, Megatron resented her popularity, engaging with her high society pass with cynical disdain. She invited scandal and scorned the whole scheme until she could use it to get what she wanted. Tarn frequently scolded her for her shallowness, but envied her and the attention she received immensely. This resentment only ever festered and grew.

Internally, Tarn’s wish has always been to witness Megatron’s downfall, and to indulge in her suffering. As his proxy, he will only ever be satisfied to know that she is more miserable than him. The only things preventing him from killing or hurting her directly were his deep desire to live her life, and his own utter hollowness and insecurity.

[tavolgisvist]

Paul on Another Day

Think 'Eleanor Rigby' meets Hitchcock's Rear Window. For, much as I hate to admit it, there is indeed a voyeuristic aspect to this song. Like many writers, I really am a bit of a voyeur; if there’s a lit window and there’s someone in it, I will watch them. Hands up, guilty. I mentioned ‘Eleanor Rigby’. But while both that song and this one focus on the same idea – trying to capture the everyday of this character’s life – the language here is more formal, less impressionistic. Eleanor Rigby ‘lives in a dream’, and that’s reflected in lines like ‘Wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door’. The protagonist here works in an office, though, and the lyrics are almost like a list, like her itinerary for the day. This was just after The Beatles broke up, and I was trying to establish myself as a solo artist with a new repertoire. If it was going to work like the Beatles repertoire had worked, I had to have a hit. One in two songs had to be a hit. So, this was a conscious effort to write a hit, and Phil was very helpful. We knew that if we had a hit, it would cement our relationship and we would keep working together, which we did with the RAM album. It would prove that we were both good – he as a producer and I as a singer songwriter. Releasing my first solo song after the breakup felt like a big moment. Thrilling, though tinged with sadness. It also felt like I had something to prove, and that kind of challenge is always exciting. The song went to number two in the UK singles chart and number five in the US Billboard Hot 100, so it did pretty well. Of course, this was still a time when there was a bit of tension between John and me, and this sometimes filtered into our songwriting. John made fun of this song in one of his own, ‘How Do You Sleep?’The only thing you done was yesterday And since you’ve gone you’re just another day One of his little piss takes.

(Paul McCartney, The Lyrics, 2021)

I'll say the obvious but Another Day and Eleanor Rigby have one commonality between them and it isn't 'a voyeuristic aspect' but the loneliness of the character. 'So-o many miles…' etc

And what kind of blind idiot do you have to be to make fun of a person who sings 'she finds it hard to stay alive'?

[so-i-grudgingly-joined-this-site]

So, while we're discussing the subject of what Dream of the Endless does or doesn't cover genre-wise (having determined that he would NOT discard the genre of romance from his repertoire), who do we think covers adaptations and fanfiction?

Because in the Death comics, which are as far as I know full canon, Death insists that Dream HATES adaptations or changes because they "ruin" the story's "true form". She specifically cites him hating Disney's The Little Mermaid, for changing the Hans Christian Andersen story.

(I've seen some "fans" use this as an excuse to hate on the Netflix show, since Dream hates any change to a story and even just adapting it to television would be a technical change...)

So, if he disowns adapted or altered storytelling...my guess is on Destruction. Because you're "destroying" an existing story and using the pieces to create a new one... and Destruction, IIRC, also embodies creation. Plus we know he likes making stuff for fun, regardless of the outcome, which feels very much in the spirit of fan-works.

But then again, it's also been stated by Neil that the ONLY Endless to care about stories at all is Dream... so does he just actively despise a subsection of his realm and the people who dwell in it? (I guess that might be part of why he hates his job so fucking much...) Are adaptational authors under the "no gods no kings" zone? How much strict adherence to canon does he demand--would filming a Shakespeare play with mostly the original script but a different setting be too spicy for him? Would filming what was intended to be a live play already be too much "change" to the "proper" form of the story?

I really think Neil's statement totally disregards Destruction's well established creative/artistic hobbies (or heck, even the way Desire tends to "live for the drama" could fall under the enjoyment of stories, since they enjoy seeing how people act out), but hey, I'm not the author...

Thoughts?

@duckland @orionsangel86 @academicblorbo @roguelov @notallsandmen

[justforbooks]

Rosita Missoni

Co-founder of the eponymous Italian fashion label celebrated for its colourful textiles and zigzag knitwear

Rosita Missoni, who has died aged 93, came out of the historic heartland of Italian textiles in northern Lombardy, and though she travelled worldwide for decades and the Missoni fashion and decor brand became famous globally, she remained devoted to her native terroir. All the artistic, artisanal, and ever-inventive technological skills that sustained the company’s success over 70 years were as much part of the locality as its mountains and lakes.

The other company founder, her husband, Ottavio (Tai) Missoni, was originally from the shores of the Adriatic, but was working in knits, and on marriage migrated to her territory. Theirs was a union of complementary talents – Tai was an artist of great colour gifts who choreographed how yarns should be fed into which machine to knit what pattern, while she shaped the firm’s overall fashion direction and uses of the output.

Rosita’s grandmother and mother had been commanding powers in their family factory, Torrani and Jelmini, established in 1921 in the town of Golasecca, specialising in embroidered fine lingerie, and machine-knit accessories, especially shawls.

Rosita experimented with scraps from babyhood, always aware of the interplay of colour, cloth, technology and fashion. In 1953, the newly married Missonis set up their own small machine-knitwear workshop, Maglificio Jolly, in nearby Gallarate. This was part of a postwar Italian movement that put together centuries-old knowledge of materials with sophisticated machinery developments (originally funded by American Marshall Plan money to revive European industry) and a new preference for informal, ready-to-wear clothes.

At first their few machines could manage only three-colour-stripe garments for other labels. By 1955, a Milan boutique stocked Maglificio Jolly; in 1958, Milan’s grand department store La Rinascente bought a collection of stripes of many colours, labelled “Missoni”. Tai and Rosita’s pattern repertoire expanded with each new machine from horizontal stripes to vertical, tartans to jacquard repeats.

The signature chevrons arrived in 1962 when they discovered an update of the more-than-century-old Raschel machines: Rosita remembered how her grandparents had used similar to knit silky shawls echoing antique flamestitch embroidery, the kind of shawls, she said, “you would throw over a lampshade”. Bolder Missoni versions were suited to the craze for geometrical pattern early in the 1960s, and Missoni was enthusiastically promoted by Anna Piaggi of Italian Vogue and Diana Vreeland in US.

By 1967, the Missonis had outlets in New York and Paris, and their own boutique in Milan; they presented collections in clever shows in interesting spaces – a theatre, a swimming pool – around the city. They helped shove the focus of Italian fashion from crusty Florence and snooty Rome to artisan Milan, where it remains.

The next decade brought the Missoni’s best years. First came an art deco revival – thanks to Rosita’s memories, the Missoni deco designs were affectionate but not pastiche. Then fashion hankered for handmade craftwork, mostly knitted goods, and welcomed Missoni machine-knits because of their related aesthetic heritage.

And then, as more people flew internationally and observed the ways other cultures dressed, designers such as Kenzo Takada and Bill Gibb experimented with outfits assembled from knitted, printed, embroidered and woven textiles, with geometric and floral patterns, all worn at once.

The Missonis could supply everything. Rosita regularly went on collecting trips to places where clothes, ceramics and furniture were still happily handmade, or rose early in cities across Europe to truffle for flea market finds. She wanted Missoni design to be part of a worldscape of decoration, and she hated waste – the appeal of knitting was that it wasted less yarn than cut and sewn cloth. She reclaimed workshop scraps for patchwork and rugs for their home. In 1978, the Missonis showed their collection at their quarter-century retrospective in the Whitney Museum of American Art in New York. Their work was at home there.

Born in Golasecca, Rosita was the daughter of Diamante and Angelo Jelmini, who both worked for the family firm; she had two brothers, Alberto and Giampiero. Besides her factory-floor education, she had been sent away to school on the Ligurian coast, for her health, and then to London in 1948 to learn English, supervised by Swiss nuns.

The sisters took their students to Wembley Stadium to witness track events in the summer Olympics, and there Rosita spotted handsome Tai, a decade older, competing in the Italian hurdles and relay team. They eventually arranged a proper meeting by the Eros statue in Piccadilly. Back home in Italy, Tai, who was designing knitted tracksuits – he later made the Italian uniforms for the 1952 Olympics – courted her. Their families approved, and the pair married in 1953.

Rosita and Tai decided in their first, late 60s, flush of success that they were artisan producers and wanted to stay as such, with a full life right beside their joint work. They commissioned from the architect Enrico Buzzi a factory and nearby home with a view of the Alps in Sumirago, under 10km from Golasecca, among gardens that grew produce and plumped hens to be cooked for their children, Luca, Vittorio and Angela.

All three grew up to work in the firm. Luca became menswear designer, Vittorio the marketer, and Angela, after adventures elsewhere, took over from her parents as head of design in 1996.

That freed Rosita, who felt she had nothing more to contribute to fashion (although her own magpie style stayed imaginative to the end), to be creative director of the Missoni home line, which maintained a steady customer appeal while the clothes had periods out of – the 80s – and in – the 2000s – favour in fashion.

Her decor ideas drew on her lifetime collecting, and the personal pleasure she and Tai had in the constant making of things for their Sumirago home.

Tai died in 2013, not long after Vittorio was killed in a plane crash. Rosita is survived by Luca and Angela (who passed a senior design role to her daughter, Margherita), and by eight more grandchildren and 10 great-grandchildren, and by Alberto.

🔔 Rosita Jelmini Missoni, designer, born 20 November 1931; died 1 January 2025

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[allsinglesandmarried]

The Hidden Secrets Behind Dua Lipa’s Stellar Success

Dua Lipa - ACTRESS

In the dazzling world of pop music, few stars shine as brightly as Dua Lipa. With a career that has seen meteoric rise, chart-topping hits, and a legion of adoring fans, the 28-year-old British-Albanian singer-songwriter has become a global sensation. Yet behind the glitz and glamour lies a web of secrets that contribute to her phenomenal success. From hidden inspirations to strategic career moves, here’s an inside look at the untold facets of Dua Lipa’s journey to superstardom. A Star is Born: The Early Struggles Dua Lipa’s path to fame wasn’t paved with gold. Born in London to Albanian parents, Lipa’s early life was marked by a struggle to break into the highly competitive music industry. Despite her early passion for music, she faced numerous rejections and was often told her voice wasn’t distinctive enough. This led her to take on various odd jobs to support herself while continuing to pursue her dream. What most fans don’t realize is that Lipa’s breakthrough came not from a single defining moment but through a series of meticulous, behind-the-scenes efforts. Her initial break was her YouTube cover songs, which showcased her unique voice and garnered attention from music producers. These covers, often hidden gems, played a crucial role in establishing her early reputation. The Art of Reinvention One of Dua Lipa’s best-kept secrets is her ability to reinvent herself with each album. While her debut self-titled album established her as a promising new artist, it was her second album, Future Nostalgia, that catapulted her into the pop stratosphere. The success of this album wasn’t just due to catchy beats and powerful vocals but also due to Lipa’s strategic reinvention of her image and sound. Lipa’s shift from a pop newbie to an icon involved a calculated approach. Future Nostalgia was not only a nod to the past but a bold step forward in redefining modern pop. The album’s 80s-inspired synths and disco beats were a deliberate choice, tapping into a nostalgic trend while simultaneously setting new trends. Lipa’s keen sense of timing and market trends allowed her to stay ahead of the curve. Collaborations and Connections Another secret to Lipa’s success is her strategic collaborations. While many artists team up with others to boost their visibility, Lipa’s collaborations have been carefully chosen to align with her artistic vision. Her partnerships with artists like Calvin Harris, Sean Paul, and Elton John weren’t just random choices; they were deliberate moves to blend genres and expand her audience. For instance, her collaboration with Elton John on “Cold Heart (Pnau Remix)” introduced her to a new demographic and highlighted her versatility. These collaborations are not just about enhancing her musical repertoire but also about positioning herself as a versatile and influential figure in the industry. The Power of Authenticity Despite her public persona, Dua Lipa has managed to remain authentic and grounded. She is known for her genuine interactions with fans and her advocacy for various social issues. Her activism, including her work on gender equality and LGBTQ+ rights, adds another layer to her public image, making her not just a pop star but a role model. Lipa’s authenticity is reflected in her music and public appearances. She openly discusses her struggles, victories, and personal growth, creating a relatable and inspiring figure for her audience. This authenticity resonates with fans and further solidifies her place in the music industry. Conclusion Dua Lipa’s success story is a blend of hidden struggles, strategic moves, and genuine authenticity. Her journey from a determined young artist to a global superstar is a testament to her hard work and innovation. As she continues to evolve and redefine herself, Dua Lipa remains a beacon of success in the ever-changing world of music. With her keen sense of timing, strategic collaborations, and unwavering authenticity, she proves that the true secret to stardom lies not in luck but in relentless dedication and creative vision.

[bubblesandgutz]

Every Record I Own - Day 840: Adrianne Lenker Bright Future

This is one of my favorite albums of 2024.

I love the American singer-songwriter tradition. But my love for the genre isn't so strong that I'll fall for any simple folk or country song. On the contrary, the older I get, the more particular I get about Americana. Yes, I love the Woodie Guthrie adage about only needing two chords and how the rest is just showing off. Yes, I stand with David Berman's statement that "all my favorite singers couldn't sing." I don't need an artist to reinvent the wheel with a simple 1-4-5 chord progression and a verse / chorus format. But does the world need another song written around the same handful of cowboy chords we've heard a thousand times before?

I guess the trick in the 21st century is to somehow take a very established tradition and to inject yourself into it in such a way that your songs feel comforting and intimate while also somehow making the listener see the world (or themselves) a little differently. And there are fewer and fewer artists able to do that. Really, it's been years since a singer-songwriter has put out a record that's hit me as hard as Adrianne Lenker's album Bright Future.

Lenker has an established career as both a solo artist and as a member of the folk indie outfit Big Thief, but both were completely new to me as of 2024. Perhaps this album sounds differently to someone steeped in her past work, but for me, it sounds like a collection of twelve songs that have gestated in an artist's repertoire for an entire lifetime. The songs are primarily centered around Lenker's voice and acoustic guitar. There's some piano, some strings, some electric guitar, and some vocal harmonies to round things out, but Bright Future is ultimately an album centered around a loan figure singing their songs against a sparse backdrop.

The songs are very much rooted in American folk music, though Lenker sounds like someone who is as happy with the unadorned approach to the singer-songwriter approach (see "No Machine") as she is with slightly more adventurous studio embellishments (see "Fool"). But Bright Future shines because Lenker's wavering and lilting voice, nimble but modest instrumentation, and simple storytelling are thoroughly captivating in their own right, and her decision to err on the side of leaving things naked, frail, and exposed gives the album greater dimension than if her arrangements were buried in studio magic.

Lyrically, Bright Future touches upon the heavily-tread subjects of love and heartbreak but provides a fresh prospective on the vulnerability and sacrifice that comes with it. There's also a healthy dose of recollection on a troubled childhood, but it's framed more as a relatable obstacle to intimacy as opposed to the more common reveling in personal trauma we've heard in a lot of modern indie / underground music from the last decade. Rather than basking in psychological damage, Lenker addresses her struggles as if they're a universal experience, another part of life that we must simply deal with if we're to move forward.

And ultimately, what makes Bright Future so powerful is that it conveys a sense of joy and hope despite life's inevitable losses and pain. Lenker's music generally relies on major chords, with the crucial minor thrown in for emotional weight. And that sonic balance between light and dark perfectly suits the emotional timbre of her stories. It's an album that celebrates love and happiness by occasionally referencing the harsh inverse experiences.

[keanuquotes]

Keanu Reeves, the versatile star known for his roles in The Matrix and John Wick, is now venturing into new creative territories. Collaborating with renowned British science-fiction author China Miéville, Reeves is set to make his literary debut with “The Book of Elsewhere” (via The Guardian). This novel marks a significant expansion of Reeves’ artistic repertoire, showcasing his talents beyond acting and filmmaking.

“The Book of Elsewhere” is an extension of Reeves’ own BRZRKR comic book series, co-created with Matt Kindt. The series, which has already garnered significant attention and acclaim, serves as a foundation for the upcoming novel, promising to delve deeper into its established universe.

[princesscolumbia]

Ānzhuōniichuan - Chapter 1: That Butterfly Died a Long Time Ago

Thankfully, this particular idea is not a megawork waiting to happen, just a novel's worth of ideas and arcs that came to me while I was putting the finishing touches on Double Isekai ch. 9.

Summary:

Thousands of years ago, long before anyone keeping records even knew of the place, Jusenkyo created one of the more exotic pools in its repertoire. This pool would go unnoticed and undiscovered...until an idiot hauls his son through China under the guise of a martial arts training trip.

Notes:

As of the time of posting, all Romanized Chinese is provided via Google Translate, which we all know sucks. If you know enough Chinese to spot and make corrections, please do so in the notes and I'll make the adjustments as I get the chance. Note about pronouns: Kickin' it old-school with this one; When Ranma's (and others with gender-related curses) in male form, male pronouns will be used. Similar for female form and pronouns. There's simply going to be too much going on at various points in this to provide the necessary cues via narrative at all the places to show which body they're in without breaking the flow. (Plus, and this is a teeny spoiler for something that comes up later in this fic, Ranma is gender-fluid and bi for this one) (...I know, I'm writing a Ranma that's not a purely Sapphic transwoman? Me?! Who'd have thought?) Oh, one more thing; this has a single change to the established Ranma 1/2 canon timeline. Yup, just one. Good ol' butterfly effect means that this one change means a LOT of little differences crop up over time, and the change happening thousands of years prior means that there's a LOT of these little oddities. If you're reading and say, "Wait, that didn't happen that way..." it's specifically because of the one alteration cascading through time. ...claiming full credit and ownership of the OC, though. 😎

Preview under the cut:

"Pops, get yer furry ass BACK HERE!" shouted the now cute, short, and girly martial artist. Not cute! Rough and tough and manly, damnit! The ground they were running across was shifting, which made sense. The entire valley was littered with spring pools, it wasn't surprising that the soil would be loose. That said, she and her currently panda father were far too skilled as martial artists to let some loose topsoil hinder them.

Surprise human male to the face...not so much.

Ranma's one real thought as she took a human person's mass to her torso and head was, Hey, he looks familiar! just before he impacted with her. She felt them both slam into the weak soil and the entire surface started to shift. Thinking quickly, she grabbed first a handful of grasses, then a handful of the shirt the other boy was wearing and held on as what turned out to be the embankment of a bluff, not quite a cliff but close to it, that overlooked a section of the Pools of Sorrow. She felt her shoulders nearly yank out of their sockets as gravity hauled the boy down into the valley. Remembering the abject terror she experienced not minutes before as she surfaced from the source of her own life-altering change, she was not going to let that happen to anyone else if she could help it. "Grab on!" she shouted, "Hold on to something!"

The boy (Why does he look so familiar?!) shook his head to clear it and looked around before looking up at her, "It's fine, I'm a martial artist. Just drop me, I'll land in that water down there."

"Nononono!!! You do NOT want to land in that water!" she felt more than heard the grass she was gripping in her other hand starting to tear. She may have a fairly sizeable handful and her grip was trained by no fewer than four obscure martial arts her old man had dragged her to over the years that focused on weirdly specific stuff like that, but grass was grass was grass and this wasn't going to hold up under their combined weights. "Trust me," she practically shouted, "Falling in this water is very bad!" She glanced around herself, trying to find anything that would give her purchase to keep them from taking another dunk. Unfortunately, when the ground beneath them gave way, not only did it break off some of the bluff and take them down with it, the remaining earth, an almost wet clay from what she could tell, was angled away from her. She was basically being held aloft by tearing grasses and her wrist as she held the training ground's next apparent victim over what looked like a fairly out-of-the-way pool. Right over it. As in, even if she managed to swing him somehow, she wouldn't be able to get him far enough out to avoid landing in the water.

"I can swim, it's okay, really! Don't hurt yourself on my account, miss!"

"I'm not a 'miss,' you idiot!" At his baffled expression, she started getting a little frantic and it was coming out in her voice, cracking an octave higher than she liked, "I woke up with a dick and no boobs this morning!"

He seemed to get it, at least enough to react the way she intended him to, eyes going wide. Unfortunately, just as he was raising his hands to grab onto her wrist, his shirt tore. In Ranma's defense, it looked like it was an older shirt that had seen one too many days on the road.

Ranma felt like time was going in slow motion as the boy fell to the water. This particular pool didn't have a shoot of bamboo sticking out of it, so that potential fall hazard was, thankfully, not there. On the other hand, if he was a martial artist like he said he coulda grabbed the pole...not like it matters now... As the splash pattered to the ground and surface of the pool, she realized that this particular pool wasn't as deep as the one she had fallen into...not that it made any difference in the end result. Huh...I guess there's two girl springs...? she thought absently. The freshly minted girl made her way slowly to her feet, water coming up to about her thighs. The torn shirt was substantially more filled out in the chest than it had been previously, and the girl's previously black hair was now a shockingly pretty green color that somehow looked right on her and made the black and yellow bandana on her head stand out in a very cute and attractive way. Well, at least the springs make some real lookers, she thought. "Oh, jeeze!" she hollered down, "I'm so sorry!"

The girl looked up and Ranma could swear her eyes kinda flashed at her, but that was probably a trick of the light.

Just then, the guide managed to run down the path between the springs. "Mister customer...! Oh, another customer! Not need run so much! Was going to..." the man clearly wasn't nearly up to Ranma's fitness level as he stopped and huddled down, hands on his knees as he struggled to catch his breath.

As though everything else that happened weren't enough, she heard the sound of the grass tearing further and had just enough time to say, "Oh fu~!!!" before she felt gravity get its revenge and yank her down. She managed, by sheer dint of the training her father had put her through, to reflexively grab onto the one thing between her and the pool, which was the other teen's backpack. She found herself practically wrapping around it like a particularly affectionate vine, not wanting to test what happens when you fall into two pools on the same day.

Which was, apparently, a valid concern. "Aiyah!" gasped the guide, "Mister customer be very careful! If fall into two pools the..."

...which was exactly when the straps on the backpack, sized for the brick of muscle and bone the other girl had been not five minutes before and not the willowy (if well endowed) form the other teen had now, chose that moment to fall off her shoulders and drop Ranma in the fairly shallow water.

As she surfaced (not hard to do, she merely had to sit up...though that task was made a little harder by the surprisingly heavy pack that planted her firmly on the spring's floor), she heard the guide say with a very disheartened voice, "...curses mix..."

"Oh, gosh, I'm sorry!" came a voice that sounded light and willowy as a hand reached down and hefted the pack from Ranma's body. This freed up her hands so she could rub the water out of her eyes and she looked up and saw the new face of the other teen...and found herself oddly transfixed, even if just for a moment. It wasn't quite like when she saw a pretty girl and her heart skipped a beat, or at least it was different enough from that feeling that she could identify it as different, but it wasn't anything she could remember feeling with anything or anyone else before.

"'S'okay, it aint like I didn't already take a dunk. Guess I'm just now double-girl or something." She took the other new girl's offered hand and together they waded their way to the dry bank.

"Very strange, not sure what spring customers fall in..." the guide's words trailed off as he scratched his head.

Ranma looked back to the pool and then at the guide again, "Aint it just another girl spring or somethin'?"

The guide shook his head, "Customer no understand; only one of any type of spring in all valley." He pointed at the spring right next to the one they had fallen into, "That Spring of Drowned Pig, tragic story of pig who fall into spring and drown over 400 year ago." Both Ranma and the other girl looked at the still water with alarm and very deliberately moved to stand over next to the guide, "No be another Spring of Drowned Pig until this one dry up or get buried and another pig drown in different, fresh spring. Mister Customer," he indicated Ranma, "Already fall in Spring of Drowned Girl, but I not see this spring before," he pointed at the still rippling waters, "Look like bluff fall, uncover spring, I think? Not happen often, but surprised spring not buried when bluff fell."

"Well, whatever," she sighed, "I...need pants. Can you get me back to my pack? And, I dunno, maybe help us find a cure or somethin'? We're both supposed t'be guys."

"Ah, yes! Mister Customer and other customer run away before I could explain; curse only part time. You always be cursed, but get normal body back with hot water." The two girls blinked owlishly at him, so he clarified, "Cold water now turn you into cursed form," he waved up and down at their new bodies, "Hot water turn back into mans. I have kettle at home, will change you back."

They both heaved a sigh of relief, "Well," said the new girl, "It aint a cure, but it's not as bad as it could be."

"Oh, gods!" exclaimed Ranma, "I thought I was stuck like this forever! Lead the way, sir, I need pants!"

(Read the rest at AO3)

[importantwomensbirthdays]

Marie Chouinard

Dancer and choreographer Marie Chouinard was born in 1955 in Quebec City, Quebec. Chouinard is regarded as an innovator in dance, and as a soloist, was considered among the best experimental artists in the world. Her dancing career began in 1978, and she created nearly 30 different shows in a period of 12 years. In 1990, Chouniard established a dance company, the Compagnie Marie Chouinard, which has developed an extensive repertoire and an international reputation. Chouinard has received numerous honors for her work. The Canadian government named her an Officer of the Order of Canada, and the French government has named her a Chevalier of the Ordre des Arts et des Lettres.In 2016, she was recognized with the Governor General's Performing Arts Award for Lifetime Artistic Achievement.

[papaya2000s]

The History of Korean Male Groups – From Yeonhee Professional Singers’ Quartet to BTS -> Pt. 2/? (Rewrite)

Like the experiences of the 60s-80s in Korea (I previously discussed the film Emergency Act 19 (긴급조치 19호) in another post that talks about the censorship after the Korean War), the Japanese Colonial Rule era saw significant music censorship that impacted Korean culture, especially its musical landscape. Japanese authorities imposed strict measures to suppress Korean national identity and promote Japanese interests, harming both traditional and popular music.

This censorship included regulating song content and performances, banning many Korean songs with nationalistic themes or critiques of the regime, while promoting Japanese music and songs aligned with their cultural goals.

Despite these oppressive measures, some Korean musicians skilfully incorporated traditional elements into their work, preserving their cultural heritage while navigating censorship challenges.

Western Music in Japan

It might seem a bit off in the context of the history of Korean music, but just like today’s K-pop acts, earlier Korean artists drew a lot of inspiration from Western music legends like The Beatles. This influence came about when Western culture started blending into Asia, especially since many Asian countries had been pretty isolated for a long time. If you check out historical Asian dramas or anime, you’ll notice a mix of Western and Asian architectural styles. Plus, if you ever visit or live in places like China, Japan, or Korea, you’ll spot plenty of Western-style buildings that have stood the test of time.

Zhongyang Street from south, Harbin, 1920s (哈尔滨中央大街). Formerly known as Kitayskaya ("Chinese") Street, Zhongyang Street (中央大街) was and still is the busiest street in today's Daoli District. In the distance, Songhua River and the railway bridge. Photo by Moravius on flickr An example of Western architectural style in China, which is still there and looks the same today.

Yonhui College and what it looked like in 1918 which is still used today. This college, which will be discussed later, plays a significant role in the history of Korean music.

In the early 20th century, Japan experienced a notable introduction of Western melodies, particularly during the Meiji era (1868-1912), which was characterized by the country's swift modernization and embrace of Western cultural influences. This period facilitated the creation of numerous songs that incorporated Western musical elements, reflecting a significant shift in Japan's musical landscape.

Prominent Western classical composers such as Ludwig van Beethoven, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Franz Schubert, Edvard Grieg, and Claude Debussy gained popularity in Japan during this time. Their works were disseminated through performances by Western musicians, the efforts of music educators, and the establishment of institutions dedicated to Western music education, thereby enriching Japan's musical repertoire and fostering a deeper appreciation for Western classical music.

How Korean Male Groups evolved over time.

Male groups in Korean music history have undergone significant changes and developments over the years. These groups were typically formed in two distinct ways, with one focusing on vocal harmony and the other placing a strong emphasis on performance.

Prior to the 1970s, the majority of male ensembles (a group of musicians, actors, or dancers who perform together) prioritized harmony in their music. However, a shift occurred in the 1980s, leading to the emergence of groups that placed a greater emphasis on performance and showmanship. This shift was particularly evident in the dance music genre, and these groups can be considered as the precursors to the modern-day 'boy groups' that are prevalent in the industry today.

The evolution of male groups in Korean music history can be traced through various decades, starting from the period before liberation (1910 – 1945), through the 60s, 70s, 80s, and early 90s, and continuing into the mid-90s, 2000s, and up to the 2010s. Each era brought about its own unique changes and developments in the male group landscape, reflecting the evolving tastes and preferences of the audience as well as the broader cultural and societal shifts taking place in Korea. By examining the trajectory of male groups over these different time periods, we can gain a deeper understanding of the factors that have shaped the history of Korean male groups and their significance in the music industry.

Before Liberation - 1900s:

The historical evolution of male musical ensembles in Korea before liberation lacks a definitive "first" group, with both the Yeonhee Professional Orchestra (연희전문사중창단) and the 'Youth Member' (청년회원) frequently cited as early contributors. These ensembles share significant similarities and play crucial roles in the history of male musical groups in Korea, regardless of their status as the inaugural ensemble. The available documentation for the Yeonhee Professional Orchestra is notably more extensive than that for the 'Youth Member,' which is often referenced in academic literature.

The Yeonhee Professional Orchestra is recognized as the first male ensemble in Korea to operate under an official name, predating the 'Youth Member' group. While the 'Youth Member' is thought to have emerged around 1923, there is a lack of substantial evidence, such as photographs or audio recordings, to substantiate its official recognition. Although this group is believed to have performed the <Hakdo Song> (학도가) in 1923, the complexities of its activities during the Japanese colonial period hinder the verification of its existence and influence on the musical scene of that time.

I did a bit more research and think I may have discovered the audio for <Hakdo Song> (학도가), though I could be mistaken. When translating the title from Korean to English, it could result in two different Romanized versions: Hakdog Song (학도가) and Hakdogga (학도가), but they are written the same way in Korean.

This is the video of the supposed song below and also the link to the lyrics to the song i found in the blog - Link

In contrast, the Yeonhee Professional Orchestra boasts more thorough documentation from the 1920s and 1930s. This male ensemble primarily consisted of students from Yeonhee College, which later evolved into Yonsei University.

The formal establishment of the Yeonhee Professional Orchestra as an official entity underscores its importance and acknowledgment within the music industry, distinguishing it from the less substantiated 'Youth Member.' The detailed records associated with the Yeonhee Professional Orchestra facilitate a clearer understanding of its contributions and significance during that historical period.

*Note - Yeonhee College/ University changed names and have had different spellings: Yonhui, Yeonhui, Yonhee and Yonsei.

‘Youth Member’(청년회원)

Given the scarcity of information, I will strive to provide clarity regarding the song they reportedly performed, known as "Hakdo Song" (학도가) from 1923. It is difficult to consider the ‘Youth Member’ specified in the album as a team name. The exact names of the members still can not be confirmed. I will also include links to the sources where I discovered this information, noting that their name has appeared frequently over the years, yet details remain limited.

The initial reference to 'Youth Member' within the historical context of Korean male groups occurs prior to liberation, specifically associated with the 'Yeonhui Professional Quartet.' The connection between these two entities arises from the possibility that 'Youth Member' may represent the earliest formation of a Korean male group. However, the lack of substantial information regarding this particular group limits our understanding, as the available records primarily focus on their musical contributions.

The mention of 'Youth Member' alongside the 'Yeonhui Professional Quartet' highlights a significant yet obscure aspect of Korean musical history. While 'Youth Member' is posited as potentially the first Korean male group, the scarcity of detailed documentation about its activities and influence restricts a comprehensive analysis. Consequently, the historical narrative surrounding these groups remains largely incomplete, with much of the focus directed towards their musical output rather than their broader cultural impact.

Album Photo Parents' Grace Song / Student Song. Official Song (Kwonhakga) Album Front, Collection of Lee Kyung-ho

The phonograph record in question is a Taegeukpyo release by the Nippon Gramophone Company, dating back to approximately 1923, and features three distinct musical pieces: "Parents' Grace Song," (부모의 은덕가) "Hakdoga," (학도가), and "Kwonhakga." (권학가).

This record has sparked discussions regarding the classification of changga (love song) as a form of popular music. Notably, "Hakdoga," the first changga featured on the album, holds significant historical value as it encapsulates the evolution of popular music during the Enlightenment Period, thereby serving as a crucial artifact for understanding the cultural dynamics of that era.

The first song confirmed on a record

Despite the existence of numerous records, the earliest confirmed song on a record is <Hakdoga>, attributed to 'Youth Member,' which is believed to be the first male group in Korea. This song was released by Nippon Gramophone Co., Ltd. (日本コロムビア株式会社) around 1921, catalogued as record number 6217.

The true identity of this album remains unverified. The only known version is a reissue from approximately 1923, which is exceedingly rare, with only one or two copies in existence. The recording features a choir format, and rather than listing a specific artist, it simply credits 'Youth Member.' The initial designation as 'Christian Youth Member' suggests that the performance was by a member of the YMCA rather than a professional vocalist. The introduction of the song invites listeners to "Let's sing a student song," mirroring the format used in Edison Records in the United States.

For some reason, finding the right company proved to be difficult, but I truly hope this is the one, particularly since it was the only option available when the song was released. Information about the company that the song was released by below.

Nippon Columbia Co., Ltd., established on October 1, 1910, in Kawasaki-cho, Kanagawa Prefecture, originally operated as the Japan Gramophone Trading Company, marking the inception of Japan's first online music service. From its founding, it maintained a partnership with the American Columbia Record Company, facilitating the import and export of both music and gramophone technology. The company underwent a transformation through Ichichu Kogyo and was rebranded as Japan Columbia in 1946.

'Student' (학도가) is a Japanese version of 'Railroad Window Song' (철도창가) with only the lyrics changed

The authorship of the lyrics for ‘학도가’ remains uncertain, with some attributing it to Choi Nam-seon (최남선) and others to Kim In-sik (김인식), recognized as the first Western musician. However, these claims lack definitive evidence, and there exists a considerable amount of misinformation regarding the composer. Notably, ‘학도가’ is essentially a reworked version of the Japanese song 'Railroad Window Song' (철도창가), which was released in 1900 during the Meiji era.

The lyrics of ‘학도가’ reflect themes of enlightenment, although there are variations from the contemporary rendition. The version performed by Myeong Guk-hwan (명국환) retains the original lyrics but condenses the content from six verses to four. In contrast, Go Woon-bong's (고운봉) interpretation incorporates Juja’s exhortation to learn (勸學文), derived from ‘Gwonhakga’ (권학가), further illustrating the evolution of the song's message over time.

Kim In-sik/ Kim In Hak (김인식)

Born in Pyongyang in 1885 and passed away in 1963, he is recognized as the inaugural Western music educator in the nation. I'll go more into detail about him in a future post.

Choi Nam-seon (최남선)

Choi Nam-seon was a prominent figure in the Japanese colonial era, recognized for his roles as a writer, journalist, historian, and pro-Japanese anti-nationalist. Born in 1890 and passing away in 1957, he pursued his studies in Japan, subsequently launching magazines and fostering a new cultural movement through his literary contributions. He was instrumental in the creation of a Korean dictionary and authored the "Declaration of Independence" during the March 1st Movement. Additionally, he was involved with the Gyemyeong Club, which focused on the study of Korean culture and history, and he served on the Joseon History Compilation Committee. From 1935 onward, he became increasingly active in pro-Japanese initiatives, promoting Japanese Shinto and supporting student soldiers while advocating the notion that Korea and Japan share a common cultural heritage through his "cultural mobilization theory." I'll go more into detail about him in a future post.

A scholar with an enlightened character

Gwonhakga serves as an enlightenment song that promotes the value of education. Unlike typical phonograph records that feature a single song on each side, this particular album stands out by presenting Gwonhakga alongside Hakdoga on the same side of the record.

The song's lyrics reference Juja's work, (勸學文), emphasizing the fleeting nature of youth and the challenges of learning, with the admonition that "young people are easy to grow old, but learning is difficult, so do not treat time lightly even for a moment." (少年易老學難成一寸光陰不可輕). This serves as a cautionary message to the youth regarding the importance of their studies, and these lines were subsequently echoed in Gounbong's ‘학도가’.

This is the video of the supposed song below and also the link to the lyrics to the song i found in the blog – Link Video - https://youtu.be/RrHfwmd1qU4 The song, which has been sung since the Japanese colonial period, also has the same melody as the ‘Student Song’ below.

What the ‘Student Song’ might mean - The 'Student Song' emphasizes the importance of youth and education, urging students to recognize their role in shaping history. It highlights a young boy's proficiency in mathematics and praises the remarkable Ilchon Gwangumdo. The imagery of jade hidden in lush mountains suggests that potential must be refined to reveal its brilliance, while the fallen tree symbolizes the necessity of sacrifice for growth. The song calls upon diligent students to remember their responsibilities, as the dawn moon sets and the bright Dongcheon Joil illuminates their path. Ultimately, it reiterates the significance of youth in the ongoing narrative of history.

‘Parents' Grace Song’ praising the grace of parents

The song titled "Parents' Grace Song" (부모의 은덕가) was initially released by Nippon Gramophone Co., Ltd. in approximately 1921, catalogued as record number 6216. The original recording has not survived, but historical documentation indicates that the title was originally inscribed in Chinese characters as "父母恩德 (Parents' Grace Song)," distinct from its reprinted version labelled as record number K200.

The lyrics of this song bear resemblance to contemporary songs performed on Parents' Day, emphasizing the virtues of parental kindness and the importance of expressing gratitude. Its emotional resonance remains significant today, and the fact that modern Parents' Day songs reference "Parents' Kindness Song" (부모의 은덕가) suggests that this piece has been preserved through oral tradition for many years.

[glassprism]

What goes into the decision behind running a replica vs. non-replica POTO? Does it boil down to costs or contracts or is it related to artistic license? And even when they run non-replica, it still says ALW's Phantom, so how much still has to run true to his original?

For the decision-making, it just depends on the production! There are some versions that could probably afford to do the replica production, but choose not to because they want to explore other interpretations or because they have always done non-replicas. For example, musicals in Hungary, the Czech Republic, and Finland have traditionally always done non-replicas, so when they put Phantom on, it's no different. Within this category too are other reasons - for example, several of these productions are also in repertoire theaters, meaning they have multiple different shows cycling in the same theater across the year, so it's also about using the space wisely.

For other productions, yes, cost is a big reason. This is more the case in countries where musical theater is not as established, such as Italy, Norway, or Greece; here, it's easier to not have to pay the licensing costs or production to put on the replica and just make a version that is cheaper and likely to recoup the money back. But that doesn't mean artistry or creative license is not a factor, and creators of productions on a lower budget have still talked about how they wanted the opportunity to reinterpret the material.

As for the second question, the show has to use the same music, story, and lyrics (with some leeway for translations) as the replica, but the sets, costumes, choreography, and blocking can change. If you look at any non-replica of ALW's, they are still playing the same music, singing the same songs, and following the same general story; it's just the visuals and the blocking that changes, and even the latter has to stay within the boundaries of the story (no Christine going back to the Phantom at the end, for example). If everything changes, then you're not a non-replica, you're just a totally different version, e.g. the Ken Hill version, the Yeston/Kopit version.

Not that that's stopped some high school productions from trying to insert their new and improved lines.

[marilynlennon]

CMUK

CMUK is an interspecies collective that was established in 2014 by the grey parrots Clara and Karl and the artists Ute Hörner and Mathias Antlfinger. The collaborative project of parrots and humans promotes the decentralization of “human animals” as superior creators and opens up the perspective towards an overwhelming productivity by a non-human agency. CMUK works and plays in a transmedia manner, using a variety of materials, pro­cesses and contexts. Subtraction, décollage and all sorts of destruction are part of the sculptors’ repertoire. The word CMUK is an acronym composed of the forenames of the founding members: Clara, Mathias, Ute and Karl. It means something like “a little kiss” in Slovene.

[dustedmagazine]

Various Artists — Creiriau Y Delyn Rawn / Relics of the Horsehair Harp (Amgen)

Imagining new music is nothing new. Individually or collectively, spontaneously or through painstaking craft, research, and development, legions of music-makers have tried to come up with something sufficiently novel out of sounds and (sometimes) words that it hooks listeners’ attention. You can be sure that someone’s at it right now. But you probably won’t lose the farm if you bet it on the notion that the sequential imagining that went into the conception and execution of Creiriau Y Delyn Rawn is an unprecedented process that has yielded a remarkable outcome.

The Welsh language title translates into English as Relics Of The Horsehair Harp. It was produced by harpist Rhodri Davies as a companion to Telyn Rawn, a solo album that he released on his Amgen label. Telyn Rawn is named after the instrument that it introduced, a horsehair harp that Davies commissioned to be made by a couple harp makers and a leatherworker. Harps have a particular cultural resonance in Wales, since despite the instrument’s popularity, the art of making them nearly died out before making a comeback as part of a larger resurgence of Welsh culture. The original telyn rawn was made from wood and equine byproducts. After the sturdier Italian triple harp made it to the British Isles in the 1600s, it replaced the telyn rawn so thoroughly that for a couple centuries the triple harp was actually known as the Welsh harp (it was replaced by the pedal harp in the 20th century) while its predecessor was practically forgotten. When Davies, whose wide-ranging music encompasses free improvisation, modern composition, Konono-inspired junkyard noise, and rock and roll, got curious about those early harps, no one knew how to make one. The instrument on Telyn Rawn was designed using descriptions in early Welsh poetry and a couple pages addressing harp-tuning practices in a 17th century manuscript by Robert ap Huw.

When Davies finally set about playing the thing, he did not revive antique repertoire; he improvised short pieces equally informed both by his research and his own practice of playing freely, alone and with musicians like John Butcher, Andrew Leslie Hooker and the trio IST. Intricately plucked or vigorously bowed, some of the album’s eighteen tracks hinted at folkloric models, while others undid dense knots of sound that burst with harmonics and radiated overtones. Telyn Rawn came out during that first COVID summer, which was bad for many things, but was not so bad for spending some of that time that one wasn’t gigging cooking up new ideas. After its release, Davies reached out to friends and associates with this request: “I asked each contributor to imagine that the musical material improvised in 2020 was an ancient musical form that had fully existed in the medieval period, and that each of their responses were to have happened centuries after the imagined formation of the Telyn Rawn pieces.”

Such a brief can be taken in many directions, depending on the respondent’s experiences, equipment, and willingness to dig a new network out of someone else’s wormhole. Sixteen participants gave a response to one or two specific tracks from Telyn Rawn. Laura Cannell’s  opening piece, “The Tattered Skies Above,”  wastes little effort on interpreting Davies’ “Penriwh.” Instead, she constructs a fanfare from overdubbed recorders whose jolting sonorities and processional air establishes a through line linking a span of fantasized centuries. Next up, Orphy Robinson makes like a free-bopping jazz man. On “Nude, Lewd, Rude, Mood Food” he transfers bits of Davies’ intricate “Gorchan Sali” to a salaciously bulbous-sounding marimba, accelerates the tempo and lets it rip. Jem Finer plays “Y Geseg Fedi” pretty faithfully, simply transposing bowed harp to hurdy-gurdy; guitarist C. Joynes is similarly respectful to “”Dygan tro’r Ebill.” Credited as playing computer and mouse, “C. Spencer Yeh” visits a cut-and-splice surgical strike upon Davies’ recording of “Afon “Dewi Fawr;” Pat Thomas might do something similar on the turbulent electronic eruption, “Maddad.”

Not only does Davies have a strong musical personality that transcends the particular harp he plays and the century his head’s in; he has picked his emissaries wisely. Despite the disparity of instrumentation and approach exhibited by the sixteen contributing musicians, Creiriau Y Delyn Rawn feels pretty cohesive as it carves out an imaginary timeline of musical evolution.

Bill Meyer

[camillasgirl]

Queen Camilla’s Patronages

London Chamber Orchestra (Patron from 12.09.2005)

The London Chamber Orchestra (LCO), one of the world’s finest ensembles, combines the charismatic leadership of Principal Conductor Christopher Warren-Green with the skills of London’s most exceptional musicians. Alongside its established chamber orchestra repertoire, LCO is dedicated to the promotion of new work. Its concerts regularly feature international solo artists as well as promoting and supporting promising young talent. The orchestra’s London season is based at the suitably intimate concert halls of Cadogan Hall, Chelsea and St. John’s, Smith Square, Westminster. LCO enjoys the Patronage of Her Majesty The Queen Consort along with support from an enthusiastic and loyal worldwide audience. In 2011 it was highly honoured to be invited to perform at the wedding service of The Prince and Princess of Wales, to an estimated global audience of 2 billion people.

[opera-ghosts]

Henri Albers in the title role of Chausson's Le Roi Arthus, which he created at the Monnaie in Bruxelles in 1903.

Henri Albers, born Johan Hendrik Albers (1 February 1866 – 12 September 1926),[1] was a Dutch-born opera singer who later became a French citizen. He sang leading baritone roles in an international career that spanned 37 years and was a prominent singer at the Théâtre de la Monnaie in Brussels and the Opéra-Comique in Paris, which was his base from 1900 until his death. He also sang in 36 performances with the Metropolitan Opera company from 1898 to 1899. He made many recordings for Pathé Records and specialised in the heavier baritone and basso cantante repertoire.

Albers was born in Amsterdam and initially Albers was born in Amsterdam and initially trained and worked as an actor. He then studied singing at the Conservatorium van Amsterdam and was engaged by Johannes George De Groot to sing with his newly established Hollandsche Opera company. He made his operatic debut in 1889 as Méphistophélès in a Hollandsche Opera production of Gounod's Faust and during the next two years continued singing leading roles with the company. In 1891, on the recommendation of De Groot, he met with the French composer Jules Massenet and auditioned for him. Massenet was impressed and encouraged him to study further in Paris and to broaden his horizons beyond Amsterdam. After further singing studies in Paris with Jean-Baptiste Faure, Albers made his first stage appearance outside Holland when he was engaged by the French opera company in Antwerp. In 1892, he sang Jean d'Hautecoeur in the company's first production of Alfred Bruneau's Le rêve and began a lifelong friendship with the composer, appearing in many of his operas.After Antwerp, Albers was engaged as After Antwerp, Albers was engaged as Principal Baritone at the Opéra de Bordeaux and went on to sing at the Royal Opera House in London and the Opéra de Monte-Carlo. He was engaged by the Metropolitan Opera in 1898 and sang with the company both on tour and in New York City. He made his company debut on 8 November 1898 as Mercutio in the Met's touring performance of Roméo et Juliette in Chicago. He remained with the company through 1899, appearing 36 times in eight different operas and tackling his first Wagnerian role, Wolfram in Tannhäuser.On his return to Europe he sang On his return to Europe he sang regularly at the Théâtre de la Monnaie in Brussels from 1901 to 1906 and added several more Wagnerian roles to his repertoire: Telramund in Lohengrin; Hans Sachs in Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg; Wotan in Das Rheingold, Siegfried, and Die Walküre; and Kurwenal in Tristan und Isolde. A highly versatile singer, he also appeared in the title roles of La Monnaie's productions of Hamlet, Rigoletto, Hérodiade, and Le roi Arthus, as well as singing Count di Luna in Il trovatore, Iago in Otello, and Baron Scarpia in Tosca.In 1899, he had also been In 1899, he had also been engaged by the Opéra-Comique in Paris where he sang leading baritone and bass-baritone roles for the next 25 years in 39 different operas. Although it became his "home" opera house, he continued to appear at La Monnaie, the Paris Opéra, and several other European opera houses from time to time. He became a naturalized French citizen in 1920.In late In late August 1926 at Aix-les-Bains, Albers once again sang the role of Jean d'Hautecoeur in Le rêve.A month later, he died in Paris of a sudden illness at the age of 60. At the time of his death, he was on the administrative council of the Union des Artistes dramatiques et lyriques des théâtres français.