#verse; a regular prince charming (modern)

[ziskandra]

*cackles* 7, 10, 11, 13, and 24

7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them? hate is probably too strong a word but i've developed a knee-jerk reaction to fellow anders fans over the years because of the subset that truly seem to think he can do no wrong and that all of his actions were entirely justified and had no negative consequences for anybody in kirkwall other than the templars. on one hand, i kinda get it, because i know anders fans have also gotten a lot of flack because... this fandom is incapable of being normal. on the other, i have a knee-jerk reaction towards anyone who assumes everyone plays these sort of games the exact same way as them (or indeed, the same way each time). i totally respect people doing whatever they want in their games and in their fanworks, but it's when it comes out in harassment of others or making bad faith assumptions about the character of actual living human beings that i'm like. no thank you. obviously there are fans of other characters who also engage in this behaviour, anders is just the one where my negative fandom experiences outweigh the positive ones, personally.

oh also, while i'm being salty (the name of the game i SUPPOSE), i fucking love f!handers but m!handers leaves me cold (especially in canon-verse fic, i don't mind it as much in like, modern AUs and the like?) idk i feel like them being the same gender changes their dynamic in a way i can't articulate--probably that hawke being female shifts the power dynamics a bit and. yeah. 10. worst part of fanon

again, 'worst' is probably a harsh word, but when it comes to pervasive fanon that i personally just don't like, it has to be visibly mixed-race alistair. i don't mind it as much when his ears have like, a subtle point to them or whatever, but speaking personally as someone who is visibly mixed, to the point that i have fielded complete strangers asking "what are you" on regular occasions, alistair's narrative would be. quite different if he wasn't human-passing. and while i get that some mixed-race people find solace in making their blorbos more representative of who they are and their identities not causing any issues, it leaves me cold. and again, i don't care what other people do, but it's when some people act like fellow fans who dare depict alistair as he appears in canon are being racist or what have you that i get annoyed. like, yeah, dragon age fandom does have problems with race, but like... this is imo not one of them, and it detracts from like. bringing awareness to actual issues. yeah yeah people can care about multiple things at once, but by the same token, people can only care about so many things at once, yknow? also this fandom in particular has a real problem with treating poc like we're all a monolith, and that includes both white people and poc. i find it especially frustrating that the dominant discourse centers north american race politics the most, but god forbid anyone try to address that directly .... but that's a rant for another time lmao. 11. number of fandom-related words you've filtered i have about 16 fandoms i'm not in filtered mostly bc they just turn up on my dash a lot, and a handful of characters/ships filtered for fandoms i am in! the one that has been consistently filtered the longest is reyes vidal. 13. worst blorbofication

oooh, this one i think is a toss up between alistair and varric. as someone who loves both these characters more for their flaws rather than their virtues, fandom can be. a difficult time! alistair often gets reduced to this...perfect prince charming, which i think is kind of disappointing considering there is so many different ways for his story to develop depending on the the outcomes of origins? varric, otoh, gets reduced to hawke's bestie a lot. and look. i get it. he is hawke's bestie. he is. very uncritical of hawke, which is not as much of a problem if hawke's a good person but. what if they're not? what if they're not, varric. god, what i would give for like. a fucking complicated characterisation-rich fic which explored like. hawke and varric's friendship and how they're like. codependent messes. (and i say this as someone who loves codependent messes lol). and i guess like.... everyone treats varric being viscount as a meme. and yeah, i get it, the dude is everything everywhere all at once. but i'd really love to see more content focused on like... his relationship with kirkwall, and his feelings regarding his friends and becoming viscount and yeah. anyway!! being a blorbo of mine is the worst because i enjoy pain and suffering. anyway, 24. topic that brings up the most rancid discourse

mage rights and also the chantry boom. i don't think i even have to elaborate on this do it 😭 🔥 choose violence ask game 🔥

[princesircastic-archive]

@nctamused liked for a starter for Emma (David)

When Emma had been small and entirely dependent on him, David had thought life as a single parent was hard. It certainly hadn't been easy, but he'd pulled through – with the aid of his brother who, thank the gods, had surprised everyone with his capability to be a responsible adult when it concerned his niece. Now that Emma was a teenager and slowly leaving behind her dependency on him, David realised he'd had it easy back then.

"Emma!" Standing at the bottom of the stairs, David glanced at the letter in his hand and sighed. Part of him had always expected something like this to happen eventually. His offspring was far too much like her uncle for her own good. "Emma Ruth Nolan," he called again, adopting a sterner tone of voice that should let his child know this wasn't a moment to be stubborn, "I need to talk to you."

[dustedmagazine]

Dust Volume 6, Number 12

The Flat Five

It’s November, and the culture is telling us to be thankful again, at least from a distance. We’re a prickly, argumentative bunch here at Dusted, but I think we can all agree on gratitude for our health, each other and the music, good and bad, that comes flooding in from all sides. So while we may not agree on whether the best genre is free jazz or acid folk or vintage punk or the most virulent form of death metal, we do concur that the world would be very dull without any of it. And thus, seasonably overstuffed, but with music, we opine on a number of the best of them once again. Contributors this time include Bill Meyer, Andrew Forell, Tim Clarke, Ray Garraty, Jennifer Kelly, Mason Jones, Patrick Masterson, Jonathan Shaw and Justin Cober-Lake. Happy thanksgiving. 

Cristián Alvear / Burkhard Stangl — Pequeños Fragmentos De Una Música Discreta (Insub)

Pequeños fragmentos de una música discreta by CRISTIÁN ALVEAR & BURKHARD STANGL

The acoustic guitar creates instant common ground. Put together two people with guitars in their hands together, and they can potentially communicate without knowing a word of each other’s language. They might trade blues licks, verses of “Redemption Song,” or differently dire remembrances of “Hotel California,” but they’re bound to find some sort of common language. This album documents another chapter in the eternal search. Cristián Alvear is a Chilean classical guitarist who has found a niche interpreting modern, and often experimental repertoire. Burkhard Stangl is an Austrian who has spent time playing jazz with Franz Koglmann, covering Prince with Christoph Kurzmann and realizing compositions that use the language of free improvisation with Polwechsel. This CD collects eight “Small Fragments Of Discreet Music” which they improvised in the course of figuring out what they could play together. Given their backgrounds, dissonance is part of the shared language, but thanks to the instrumentation, nothing gets too loud. Sometimes they explore shared material, such as the gentle drizzle of harmonics on “No5.” Other times, they find productive contrasts, such as the blurry slide vs. palindromic melody on “No6.” And just once, they flip on the radio and wax melancholic while the static sputters. Sometimes small, shared moments are all you need.

Bill Meyer

 Badge Époque Ensemble — Self Help (Telephone Explosion Records)

Self Help by Badge Époque Ensemble

 Toronto collective Badge Époque Ensemble display the tastefully virtuosic skill of a particular strain of soul-inflected jazz-fusion that politely nudged its way into the charts during the 1970s. Led by Max Turnbull (the erstwhile Slim Twig) on Fender Rhodes, clavinet and synthesizers with members of US Girls, Andy Shauf’s live band and a roster of guest vocalists, Badge Époque Ensemble faithfully resurrect the sophisticated sounds of Blue Nun fuelled fondue parties and stoned summer afternoons by the pool. Meg Remy and Dorothea Paas share vocals on “Sing A Silent Gospel” which is garlanded with Karen Ng’s alto saxophone and an airy solo from guitarist Chris Bezant; it’s a track that threatens to take off but never quite does. The strength of James Baley’s voice lifts the light as air psych-funk of “Unity (It’s Up To You)” and Jennifer Castle does the same for “Just Space For Light” during which Alia O’Brien makes the case for jazz flute — Mann rather than Dolphy — with an impressive solo. The most interesting track here is the 11 minute “Birds Fly Through Ancient Ruins” a broodingly introspective piece which allows Bezant, Ng and bassist Giosuè Rosati to shine. Self-Help is immaculately played and has some very good moments but can’t quite get loose enough to convince.

Andrew Forell  

 Better Person — Something to Lose (Arbutus)

Something to Lose by Better Person

Like any musical genre, synth-pop can go desperately awry in the wrong hands. The resurgence of all things 1980s has been such a prevalent musical trend in recent years that it takes a deft touch to create something that taps into the retro vibe without coming across as smug. Under his Better Person moniker, Berlin-based Polish artist Adam Byczyowski manages to summon the melancholy vibe of 1980s classics such as “Last Christmas” by Wham!, “Take My Breath Away” by Berlin, and “Drive” by The Cars, reimagined for the 21st century and set in a run-down karaoke bar. This succinct and elegant half-hour set pivots around atmospheric instrumental “Glendale Evening” and features three Polish-language tracks — ��Na Zawsze” (“Forever”), “Dotknij Mnie” (“Touch Me”), and “Ostatni Raz” (“Last Time”) — that emphasize the feel of cruising solo through another country and tuning into a unfamiliar radio station. There’s roto-toms, glassy synth tones, suitably melodramatic song titles (including “Hearts on Fire,” “True Love,” and “Bring Me To Tears”), plus Byczyowski’s disaffected croon. It all creates something unexpectedly moving.

Tim Clarke

 Big Eyes Family — The Disappointed Chair (Sonido Polifonico)

The Disappointed Chair by Big Eyes Family

Sheffield’s Big Eyes Family (formerly The Big Eyes Family Players) released the rather fine Oh! on Home Assembly Music in 2016. Its eerie blend of folk and psych-pop brought to mind early Broadcast, circa Work and Non Work, before Trish Keenan and James Cargill started to explore more experimental timbres and themes of the occult. Bar perhaps the haunted music box instrumental “Witch Pricker’s Dream,” Oh!’s songs cleaved along a similar grain: minor keys, chiming arpeggiated guitar, spooky organ, in-the-pocket rhythm section, plus Heather Ditch’s vocal weaving around the music like smoke. The Disappointed Chair is much the same, enlivened with a touch more light and shade, from succinct waltz “(Sing Me Your) Saddest Song,” to the elegant Mellotron and tom-toms of “For Grace.” “From the Corner of My Eye” is stripped right back, with an especially affecting guitar line, plus Ditch’s vocals doubled, with the same words spoken and sung, like a voice of conscience nagging at the edge of the frame. It’s a strong set of songs, only let down by the boxy snare sound on “Blue Light,” and on “The Conjurer,” Ditch’s lower register isn’t nearly as strident as her upper range.

Tim Clarke

 Bounaly — Music For WhatsApp 10 (Sahel Sounds)

Music from Saharan WhatsApp 10 by Bounaly

The tenth installment in Sahel Sounds’ Music For WhatsApp series introduces another name worth remembering. In case your attention hasn’t been solely faced on the ephemeral charms of contemporary Northwest African music in 2020, here’s the scoop: Each month, Sahel sounds uploads a brief recording that a musician from that corner of the world recorded on their cell phone and delivered via the titular app, which is the current mode of music transmission in that neck of the woods. At the end of the month they take it down, and that’s that. This edition was posted on November 11, so set your watch accordingly. Bounaly is originally from Niafounké, which was the home of the late, great Ali Farka Touré. Since civil war and outside intervention have rendered the city unsafe for musicians of any speed, he now works in Mali’s capital city, Bamako, but his music is rooted in the bluesy guitar style that Touré championed. Accompanied solely by a calabash player and surrounded by street sounds, Bounaly’s singing closely shadows his picking, which is expressive without resorting to the amped-up shredding of contemporary guitarists like Mdou Moctar.

Bill Meyer  

 Cash Click Boog — Voice of the Struggle (CMC-CMC)

Last year, Cash Click Boog made a few very noticeable appearances on other people albums (especially on Lonnie Bands’ “Shred 1.5” and Rockin Rolla’s First Quarter) but his own Extras was a minor effort. This Californian rapper was always a dilettante at music, but that was his main appeal and ineradicable feature: you always knew that he’s always caught up in some very dark street business, and he appears in a booth once every blue moon, almost by accident. He is that sort of a player who always on the bleachers, yet when they let him on the field he always does a triple double or a hat trick (depending on a kind of sport).

Voice of the Struggle was supposed to be his big break, the album in which he would expend his gift for rapping while remaining in strictly amateurish frame. Sadly, Boog has chosen another route, namely going pop. He discards his amateur garbs almost completely and auto-tunes every track. If earlier he was too dark even by street standards, now almost all the tracks could be safely played on a radio. The first eight songs are more or less pop-ish ballads about homies in prison, tough life and the ghetto. By the time we reach the last three tracks where Boog recovers his old persona, it’s already too late. The struggle remains but the voice is gone.

Ray Garraty 

 The Flat Five — Another World (Pravda)

The Flat Five musters a great deal of Chicago musical fire power. Alt.country chanteuse Kelly Hogan, Andrew Bird collaborator Nora O’Connor and Casey McDonough sing in Andrews Sisters harmonies, while NRBQ mainstay Scott Ligon minds the store and Green Mill regular Alex Hall keeps the rhythm steady. The sound is retro —1930s radio retro — but the songs, written by Ligon’s older brother Chris, upend mid-century American pieties with sharp, insurgent wit. A variety of old-time-y styles are referenced — big band jazz, country, doo wop and pre-modern pop — in clean, winking style. Countrified, “The Great State of Texas” seems, at first, to be a fairly sentimental goodbye-to-all-that song, until it ends with the revelation that the narrator is on death row. “Girl of Virginia,” unspools a series of intricate, Cole Porter-ish rhymes, while waltzing carelessly across the floor. The writing is sharp, the playing uniformly excellent and the vocals extra special, layered in buzzing harmonies and counterpoints. No matter how complicated the vocal arrangements, no one is ever flat in Flat Five.

Jennifer Kelly

 Sam Gendel — DRM (Nonesuch)

Normally, Sam Gendel plays saxophone in a classic jazz style. You might have caught him blowing dreamy, airy accompaniments on Sam Amidon’s last record, for instance, or putting his own spin on jazz standards in the solo Satin Doll. But for this album, Gendel experimented with ancient high tech — an Electro Harmonix DRM32 drum machine, some synthesizers, a 60-year-old nylon-string guitar —t o create hallucinatory fragments of beat-box-y, jazz-y sound, pitched somewhere between arty hip hop and KOMPAKT-style experimental electronics. “Dollars,” for instance, laces melancholy, Latin-flavored guitar and crooning with vintage video-game blips and bleeps, like a bossa nova heard dimly in a gaming arcade. “SOTD” dances uneasily in a syncopated way, staccato guitar runs paced by hand-claps, stuttered a-verbal mouth sounds and bright melodic bursts of synthesizer. “Times Like This” poses the difficult question of exactly what time we’re in—it has the moody smoulder of old soul, the antic ping and pop of lush early 00s electronics, the disembodied alien suavity of pitch-shifted R&B right now. The ringer in the collection is a cover of L’il Nas’ “Old Town Road,” interpreted in soft Teutonic electro tones, like Cluster at the rodeo. It’s odd and lovely and hard to get a bead on, which is pretty much the verdict for DRM as a whole.

Jennifer Kelly

 Kraig Grady — Monument of Diamonds (Another Timbre)

MONUMENT OF DIAMONDS by Kraig Grady

The painting adorning the sleeve of Monument of Diamonds is entitled Doppler Effect in Blue, and rarely has the cover art’s name so accurately described the sound of the music paired with it. The album-length composition, which is scored for brass, saxophones and organs, consists almost entirely of long tones that Doppler in slow motion, with one starting up just before another peters out. The composer, Kraig Grady, is an Australian-based American who used to release albums that purported to be the folk music of a mythical land called Anaphoria. Nowadays he has no need for such subterfuge, since this lovely album holds up quite well on its own merits. Inspired by Harry Partch and non-Western classical music systems, Grady uses invented instruments and strategically selected pitch intervals to create microtonal music that sounds subtly alien, but never harsh on the ears. As the sounds glide by, they instigate a state of relaxed alertness that’ll do your blood pressure some good without exposing you to unnecessary sweetener.

Bill Meyer  

 MJ Guider — Sour Cherry Bell (Kranky)

Sour Cherry Bell by MJ Guider

MJ Guider’s second full length is diaphanous and monolithic, its monster beats sheathed in transparent washes of hiss and roar. “The Steelyard” shakes the floor with its pummelling industrial rhythms, yet shrouds Guider’s spoken word chants with surprising delicacy. “Body Optics” growls and simmers in woozy synth-driven discontent, while the singer lofts dreamy melodic phrases over the roar. There’s heft in the low-end of these roiling songs, in the churn of bass-like synthetics, the stomp of computer driven percussion, yet a disembodied lightness in the vocals, which float in pristine purity over the roar. Late in the disc, Guider ventures a surprisingly unconfrontational bit of dream pop in “Perfect Interference,” sounding poised and controlled and rather lovely at the center of chiming, enveloping synthetic riffs. Yet the murk and roar makes her work even more captivating, a glimpse of the spiritual in the midst of very physical wreck and tumult.

Jennifer Kelly

 Hisato Higuchi — キ、Que、消えん？ - Ki, Que, Kien? (Ghost Disc) 

キ、Que、消えん？ - Ki, Que, Kien? by Hisato Higuchi

Since 2003, Tokyo-based guitarist Hisato Higuchi has quietly released a series of equally-quiet albums, many on his own Ghost Disc label, which is appropriately named. Higuchi's work on this and the previous two albums of his "Disappearing Trilogy" is a sort of shimmering, melancholy guitar-and-vocal atmosphere — downer psych-folk in a drifting haze. His lyrics are more imagery than story, touching on overflowing light, winter cities, the quiet world, and the transience of memories. As the guitar floats slowly into the distance, Higuchi's voice, imbued with reverb, is calmly narcotic, like someone quietly sympathizing with a friend's troubles. These songs, while melancholy, convey a peacefulness that's a welcome counterbalance to the chaotic year in which we've been living. Like a cool wind on a warm summer evening, you can close your eyes and let Higuchi's music improve your mood.  

Mason Jones

 Internazionale — Wide Sea Prancer (At the Blue Parade) (Janushoved)

Wide Sea Prancer (At The Blue Parade) by Internazionale

It’s been nearly half a decade since Copenhagen’s Janushoved first appeared in these annals, and in that time, a little more information — and a lot more material — has cropped up to lend some context to the mystery. The focus, however, steadfastly remains with the music — perhaps my favorite of which among the regular projects featured is label head Mikkel Valentin’s own swirling solo synth vehicle Internazionale. In addition to a reissue of 2017’s The Pale and the Colourful (originally out on Posh Isolation), November saw the release of all-new songs with Wide Sea Prancer (At the Blue Parade), 14 tracks of gently abrasive headphone ambient that carry out this type of sound very well. Occasionally there is a piano (“Callista”) or what sounds like vocals (“El Topo”), but as it’s been from the start, this is primarily about tones and moods. Notes for the release say it’s a “continuation and completion of the narrative set by the release Sillage of the Blue Summer,” but it’s less the narrative you should be worried about missing out on than the warmth of your insides after an uninterrupted listen.

Patrick Masterson    

 Iress — Flaw (Iress)

Flaw by Iress

Sweeping, epic post-metal from this LA four piece makes a place for melodic beauty amid the heaviness. Like Pelican and Red Sparrows, Iress blares a wall of overwhelming guitar sound. Together Michelle Malley and Alex Moreno roust up waves and walls of pummeling tone as in opener “Shame.” But Iress is also pretty good at pulling back and revealing the acoustic basis for these songs. “Hand Tremor” is downright tranquil, with wreathes of languid guitar strumming and Malley’s strong, gutsy soprano navigating the full dynamic range from whisper to scream. “Wolves” lumbers like a violent beast, even in its muscular surge, there’s a slow, anthemic chorus. Likewise, “Underneath” pounds and hammers (that’s Glenn Chu on drums), but leaves space for introspection and doubt. It’s rare that the vocals on music this heavy are so good or so female, but if you’ve liked Chelsea Wolfe’s recent forays into ritual metal, you should check out Iress as well.

Jennifer Kelly

Junta Cadre — Vietnam Forever (No Rent Records)

"Vietnam Forever" (NRR141) by Junta Cadre

Junta Cadre is one of several noise and power electronics projects created by Jackson Abdul-Salaam, musician and curator of the long-running Svn Okklt blog. As the project’s name implies, Junta Cadre has an agenda: the production of sound that seeks to thematize the ambiguities of 20th-century radical, revolutionary politics. The project’s initial releases investigated the Maoist revolution in China, and the subsequent Cultural Revolution of the late 1960s and 1970s. Vietnam Forever shifts topics, to the American War in Vietnam, and tactics, including contributions from other prominent harsh noise acts and artists: the Rita, Samuel Torres of Terror Cell Unit, Leo Brucho of Controlled Opposition and others. Given those names, Vietnam Forever is as challenging and rigorous as you might expect. Waves of dissonant, electronic hum and fuzz accumulate and oscillate, crunching and chopping into textured aural assaults; wince-inducing warbles and needling feedback occasionally assert themselves. Abdul-Salaam’s harsh shout cuts in and out of the mix. The tape (also available as a name-yo’-price DL on Bandcamp) presents as two side-long slabs of sound, both over seventeen minutes long, both completely exhausting. At one point, on Side A, Abdul-Salaam repeatedly shouts, “Beautiful Vietnam forever!” It’s hard to say what he means. An affirmation that Vietnam survived the war? That its people and culture endure? Or that the U.S. can’t seem to shake the war’s haunting presence? Or even a more worryingly nihilistic delight in the war’s carnage, so frequently aestheticized in films like Apocalypse Now (1979), Full Metal Jacket (1987) and Da Five Bloods (2020)? The noise provides no closure. Maybe necessarily so.  

Jonathan Shaw  

 Bastien Keb — The Killing of Eugene Peeps (Gearbox)

The Killing of Eugene Peeps is a soundtrack to a movie that never was, a noir-ish flick which winds restlessly through urban landscapes and musical styles, from the orchestra tremors of its opening through the folky group-sing of “Lucky the Oldest Grave.” “Rabbit Hole” wafts by like an Elephant Six outtake, its woozy chorus lit by glockenspiel notes, while “God Bless Your Gutters” conjures jazzy desolation in piano and mordant spoken word. “All the Love in Your Heart” shimmers like a movie flashback, a mirage of blowsy back-up singing, guitar and muttered memories. “Street Clams” bristles with funk and swagger, an Ethio-jazz sortee through rain slicked streets. What’s it about? Musically or narratively? No idea. But it’s worth visiting these evocative soundscapes just for the atmosphere. It’s a film I’d like to see.

Jennifer Kelly

 Jesse Kivel — Infinite Jess (New Feelings)

Nostalgia haunts the new solo album from Kisses guitarist/singer Jesse Kivel. Infinite Jess is full of that knowing melancholy of The Blue Nile, Prefab Sprout and The Pale Fountains that was so magnetic to a certain brand of sensitive young thing seeking to articulate their inchoate visions of a future steeped in romance and adventure. Think wistful mid-tempo songs wrapped in cocoons of strummed guitars, shuffling percussion and wurlitzer piano fashioned into a catalogue of adolescent radio memories. These tunes are topped by the understated sincerity of Kivel’s voice and lyrics which effectively evoke the place, time and emotion of his vignettes. The production suffers occasionally from a distracting reliance on too perfectly rendered tropes — overly polite drum programming, thumbed bass, blandly smooth electric piano — but the overall effect is oddly beguiling. Infinite Jess closes with a charmingly wobbly instrumental cover of Don McLean’s “Vincent” played on the wurlitzer that captures the poignancy of the melody and serves as a fitting epilog to the record.

Andrew Forell

 Kyrios — Saturnal Chambers (Caligari Records)

Saturnal Chambers by KYRIOS

The corpsepaint-and-spiked-codpiece crowd are still making tons of records, but fewer and fewer of them are interesting or compelling. The retrograde theatrics and cheap pessimism can be irritating enough (I’d rather be reading Schopenhauer, thanks); it’s even more problematic when the songs can muster only the vividness and savor of stiff leftovers from the deep-freezer’s darkest and dankest corners. Still, every now and then a kvlty band that follows the frigid dictates of black metal’s orthodoxy creates a set of songs worth listening to. This new EP from Kyrios is super short, comprising three tracks in just under 10 minutes that pull off that neat trick: when it’s over, you want to hear more. Sure, the dudes in the band call themselves silly things like Satan’s Sword and Vornag, but the tunes are really good. Check out the churning strangeness of “The Utterance of Foul Truths.” Kyrios claims Immortal, Enslaved and Dissection as primary influences, and the band recognizes the stylistic debt they owe to Deathspell Omega (let’s hope Kyrios digs the twisted guitars and weird-ass time signatures, but passes on the National Socialism declaimed by that French band’s vocalist). Stuff gets even more engaging when bleeping and blooping keyboards vibrate at the edges of the mix, giving the songs a spaced-out vibe. “Saturnal Chambers”? Maybe Kyrios has met the astral spirit of Sun Ra somewhere along their galactic journeys into the heavenly void. He liked bleeping, blooping noises and gaudy costumes, too.

Jonathan Shaw

 Matt Lajoie — Light Emerging (Trouble In Mind)

Light Emerging by Matt Lajoie

The second volume of Trouble In Mind Records’ Explorers series is, like its predecessor a cassette that comes concealed within a brown slipcase. Like many other discretely wrapped products, the fun is on the inside. This time, it’s a tape by guitarist who understands that toes aren’t just for tapping. At any rate, I think he’s managing his pedals with his feet. Most likely Lajoie has spent some quality time listening to mid-1990s Roy Montgomery. But since a quarter century has passed, he doesn’t just stack up the echoes. Sped-up tones streak across the surface of this music like swallows zooming close to that sheet you hung on the side of your barn the last time you had everyone over for a socially distanced gathering to watch Aguirre, The Wrath of God. Wait, did that really happen? Maybe not, but if someone were to make a fake documentary about the hanging of the projective surface, this music is suitably epic to provide the soundtrack.

Bill Meyer

 Lisa/Liza — Shelter of a Song (Orindal)

Shelter of a Song by Lisa/Liza

Lisa/Liza makes a quietly harrowing sort of guitar folk, singing in a high, ghostly clear soprano against delicate traceries of picking. The artist, real name Liza Victoria, inhabits songs that are unadorned but still chilling. She sings with childlike sincerity in an ominous landscape of dark alleys and chilly autumnal vistas. She wrote this album while chronically ill, according to the notes, and you can hear the struggle against the body in the way her voice sometimes wavers, her breath comes in sudden intakes. But, as sometimes happens after long sickness, she sometimes strikes clear of the physical, achieving an unearthly purity as in “From this Shelter.” A touch of plain spoken magic lurks in this one, in the whispery vocals, the translucent curtains of guitar notes, though not much warmth. “Red Leaves” is earthier and more fluid, guitar flickers striking out from a resonant center, and the artist murmuring dreamily about the beauty of the world and its transience.

Jennifer Kelly

Keith Morris & The Crooked Numbers — American Reckoning (Mista Boo)

It's easy to imagine Keith Morris as perpetually frustrated. His last album, after all, took on psychopaths and sycophants, and the title of his new release American Reckoning doesn't suggest happy thoughts. There's plenty of bile on these five tracks, of course, but Morris approaches the album like a scholar. The opening verse describes the US as “Machiavellian: the mean just never ends” before referencing Othello and Yo-Yo Ma (the latter for a “yo mama” joke). If Morris and the Crooked Numbers just raged, they might be justified, but they'd be less interesting. Instead, they use a wide swath of American musical styles to thoughtfully consider racial (and racist) issues in our contemporary society. “Half Crow Jim” turns a Southern piano tune into a surprising tale about the fallout from slavery. It's a sharp moment, and it highlights that the only disappointing part of this release lies in its brevity. Morris has said he has more music on the way, and if he continues to mix styles, wordplay, and cultural analysis, it'll be worth a study.

Justin Cober-Lake

 Tatsuya Nakatani and Rob McGill — Valley Movements (Weird Cry)

Valley Movements by Tatsuya Nakatani / Rob Magill

In most percussion ensembles, the gong-ist is a utility player, charged with banging out a note once or twice per composition for drama and ideally not screwing it up. Tatsuya Nakatani works on a wholly different level, transcending the possibilities of this ancient, archetypical instrument with vision and an unholy technique. More specifically, his set-up includes at least two standing gongs, each about as tall as he is himself. He plays them with mallets, standing between, in blur speed rolls that range all over the surface of the instrument. The sound he evokes is distinctly unpercussive, more resembling string instrument glissandos than any form of drums, a full-on high-register wail of sound that he sculpts and roils and coaxes into compositions of incredible force and complexity. He also plays a bunch of other percussion instruments, little drums and cymbals which he layers on top of each other so that when he strikes one, the others resonate. It is quite an experience to see him at it, and if you ever get a chance, you should go. Here, he works with the saxophonist Rob McGill unfurling a single 40-minute improvisation at a studio in the appealingly named Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. McGill is an agile player, laying alternately lyrical and agitated counterpoints onto Nakatani’s rhythms, carrying the tune and threading a logical through line through this extended set. He finds frequencies that complement Nakatani’s antic, nearly demonic drum sounds and knows when to let loose and when to let his partner through the mix. The result is a very high energy, engaging adventure in sound that evokes a rare response: you wish you could hear the drums better.

Jennifer Kelly

 Overmono — The Cover Mix (Mixmag)

Mixmag · The Cover Mix: Overmono

It’s a really weird time to be advocating for club music of any kind, but Overmono’s Everything U Need EP out recently on XL again showcases what the fraternal duo known better as Tessela and Truss do best: melding thoughtful percussion patterns with these airy, gliding synth melodies that work at home just as well as in the club (theoretically, anyway). It’s not just original material they do well, though; whether it was the Dekmantel podcast a few years back or their live cassette from Japan or this mix for Mixmag, Ed and Tom Russell also have a knack for pacing in their sets. This one features stuff from the new EP as well as three unreleased tracks (not counting the Rosalía remix, which remains one of the year’s most addicting) and names both old and new — listen for DJ Crystl’s 1993 jungle jam “Deep Space” sidled up next to Smerz’s new skyscraper “I Don’t Talk About That Much.” If that sounds like everything you need, lock in and let Overmono do the hard work. Truly, they do not miss.

Patrick Masterson

 Pole — Fading (Mute)

As Pole, Stefan Betke’s work has always been both comforting and disconcerting. The amiotic swells and heartbeat bass frequencies generate a warm human feel in his music despite their origins in serendipitously damaged equipment. Fading, his first album in five years explores Betke’s reactions to his mother’s dementia and reflects on the nature of personality, memory and soul. Building on his trademark glitchy beats and oceanic bass tones, the eight tracks echo a consciousness unmoored by the fog of unfamiliarity that smothers and distorts but never completely submerges awareness. “Tölpel” (slang for klutz) evokes impatient fingers tapping out the guilty resentment of the forgotten and the frustration of the forgetful. The title track closes with a woozy waltz punctuated by recurrent sparks. Fading is a deeply felt work; somber, reflective, stumbling towards understanding and acceptance, alive to the nuances and petty nettles of grief and above all beautiful in its ambivalence.

Andrew Forell

Quakers — II: The Next Wave (Stones Throw)

II - The Next Wave by Quakers

After eight years of silence following 2012’s self-titled debut, Stones Throw production trio Quakers (Portishead’s Geoff Barrow as Fuzzface, 7-Stu-7 and Katalyst) dropped the 50-track beat tape Supa K: Heavy Tremors out of nowhere in September and now, just two months later, are back with another 33-track behemoth that allows a litany of emcees to shine. Calling this The Next Wave is a bit of a stretch when you consider many of the voices on here are from guys who’ve been in the game for years or even decades (Jeru the Damaja, Detroit’s Phat Kat and Guilty Simpson, Chicagoan Jeremiah Jae, etc.), but even so, the dusty grooves and Dilla loops prove perfect foils for many of those who hit the mic. My favorite might be Sageinfinite slotting in with the organ grinder “A Myth,” but even if you don’t like it, everyone’s in and out quick. If you’re burned out on Griselda, give this a go for 1990s vibes of a different kind.

Patrick Masterson   

 Rival Consoles — Articulation (Erased Tapes)

There are deep pockets of silence in “Articulation,” ink black stops between the thump and clack of dance beat, sudden intervals of nothingness amidst limber synthetic melodies. London-based producer Ryan West, who records as Rival Consoles, layers sound on sound in some tracks, letting the foundations slip like tectonic plates on top of one another, but he is also very much aware of the power of quiet, whether dark or luminously light. Consider, for instance, his closer, “Sudden Awareness of Now,” whose buoyant melody skitters across factory-sized fan blasts of whooshing sound. The rhythm is light footed and agile, pieced together from staccato elements that hold the air and light. Like Jon Hopkins, West uses the glitch and twitch to insinuate the infinite, chiming overtones and hovering backdrops to represent a gnostic, communal state of existence. “Vibrations on a String” may jump to the steady thump, thump, thump of dance, but as its gleaming plasticine tones blow out into horn blast dissonance, the cut is more about becoming than being.

Jennifer Kelly

  Sweeping Promises — Hunger for a Way Out (Feel It)

Hunger for a Way Out by Sweeping Promises

The title track bounds headlong on a rubbery bassline, picking up a Messthetick-y blare of junk shop keyboards. All the sudden, there’s Lira Mondal unleashing a giddy screed of angular pop punk tunefulness, her partner in Sweeping Promises, Caulfield, stabbing and stuttering on guitar. In some ways, this band is straight out of late 1980s London, jitter-flirting with offkilter hooks a la Delta Five or Girls at Our Best. In others, they are utterly modern, lacing austere pogo beats with lush, elaborate vocal counterpoints. “Falling Forward” is a continuous rush of clamped in guitar scramble and agile, bouncing bass, anthemic trills breaking for robotic chants; it’s a mesh of sounds that always seems ready to collapse in a heap, but instead finds its antic balance just in time.

Jennifer Kelly

Martin Taxt — First Room (SOFA)

First Room by Martin Taxt

Sometimes a room is more than a room. In the matter at hand, it is a space that proposes a state of mind and a consequent set of experiences. It is also the score for a piece of music that extrapolate that state into the realm of sound. The cover of First Room depicts a pattern of tatami mats that you might find in a Japanese tea room. Martin Taxt is a microtonal tubaist and also the holder of an advanced degree in music and architecture (next time someone tells you that some good thing can’t happen, remember that in Norway you can not only get such a degree; you can then go ahead and present a CD that shows your work. The fault, dear Brutus, is not in the stars, but in our society.). This music takes inspiration from the integrated aesthetic of the tea ceremony, using carefully placed and deliberately sustained sounds to create an environment in which subtle changes count for a lot. The album’s contents were created by mixing together two performances, one with and another without an audience. Taxt and accompanist Vilde Marghrete Aas layer long tones from a tuba, double bass, viola da gamba and sine waves. Their precise juxtapositions create a sense of focus, somewhat like a concentrated version of Ellen Fullman’s long string music, and if that statement means something to you, so will this music.

Bill Meyer

 Ulaan Janthina — Ulaan Janthina II (Worstward)

Ulaan Janthina (Part II) by Ulaan Janthina

Part two of Steven R. Smith’s latest recording project echoes the first volume in several key aspects. It is a tape made in small numbers and packaged like a present from your favorite cottage industry; in this case, the custom-printed box comes with an old playing card, a hand-printed image of jellyfish, an old skeleton key and a nut. And Smith, who most often plays guitars and home-made stringed instruments, once more plays keyboards, which enable him to etch finer lines of melody. The chief difference between this tape and its predecessor is the melodies themselves, which have begun to attain the evocative simplicity of mid-1970s Cluster.

Bill Meyer

 Various Artists — Joyous Sounds! (Chicago Research)

Joyous Sounds! by Various Artists

It’s been less than two years, but Blake Karlson’s Chicago Research imprint has already made its presence known both in the Windy City and beyond as fine purveyors of all things industrial, EBM, post-punk and experimental electronics. There were two compilations released within days of one another toward the beginning of October, and while Preliminaries of Silence veers more toward soothing ambient textures, Joyous Sounds! is more upbeat and rhythmic (Bravias Lattice’s “Liquid Vistas” is a beautiful exception). My favorite track is Club Music’s “Musclebound” (not a Spandau Ballet cover, as it turns out), but the underlying menace of Civic Center’s “Filigree” and Rottweiler’s pummeling “Ancient Baths” sit alongside merely unsettling fare like Lily the Fields’ “Porcelain” well. If you’re not already aboard or just have a Wax Trax-sized hole in your heart, you have a lot of work ahead of you with this label’s consistently superlative output.

Patrick Masterson

  Kurt Vile — Speed, Sound, Lonely KV (Matador)

Given John Prine's passing from COVID-19 this year, the new Kurt Vile EP might be received as a tribute to the late artist, with extra significance coming from Prine's appearance here. Four years in the works, Speed, Sound, Lonely KV offers more than just tribute, though. Prine's guest spot (if you could call it that) on his own “How Lucky” certainly makes for a moving highlight, the two singers fitting together nicely as Prine's gruff tone balance's his partner's smoother voice. Vile also covers Prine on “Speed of the Sound of Loneliness,” and he adds “Gone Girl” by Cowboy Jack Clement as he takes further cosmic steps.  

His two originals here complete the record, and, mixed in with the covers, draw out the lesson. Vile's entire EP blends the country influences with his more typical dreamy sound, the guitar work bridging the gap between a songwriter's backing and something more ethereal. Nashville, it seems, has always suited Vile just fine, and hearing him embrace that tradition more immediately adds an extra layer to his work. Putting a cowboy hat on his previous aesthetic puts him opens up new but related paths for him, and the five tracks here could play on either a Kris Kristofferson mix or a laid-back indie-rocker playlist. Either way, they'd be highlights on an endless loop.

Justin Cober-Lake

 WhoMadeWho — Synchronicity (Kompakt)

Danish trio WhoMadeWho — drummer Tomas Barfod, guitarist Jeppe Kjellberg and bassist/singer Tomas Høffding — make enjoyable indie dance music that suffers somewhat from lack of personality and a tendency toward a middle ground. That may be due to an effort to accommodate a roster of Kompakt-related collaborators including Michael Mayer, Echonomist and Robag Wruhme. While there’s nothing bad and some pretty good here, the individual songs flit by, pausing briefly to set one’s head nodding and feet tapping, before evaporating from the mind. “Shadow of Doubt” featuring Hamburg’s Adana Twins has the kind of driving bass that anchored New Order hits but also, unfortunately, the unconvincing vocals only Bernard Sumner could get away with. More successful moments like the eerie piano riff and jazz inflections of “Dream Hoarding” with Frank Wiedemann, the arpeggiated house of “Der Abend birgt keine Ruh” featuring Perel and miserablist Pet Shop Boys inflected closer “If You Leave” do stick. Synchronicity might work well on the dance floor, but it doesn’t quite sustain at home.

Andrew Forell

[ofaphrvdite]

silence ! raise the royal standard, for the princess of scotland, ADA STUART, has arrived. being 29 years old, she is out of line to the throne. many around the court call her the stepford smiler, by virtue of her being resilient and captivating, while also being deceitful and abrasive.  — played by lily collins.

- THE BASICS.

full name: ada isobel stuart-windsor name meaning: ada ‘noble, nobility’, isobel ‘pledged to god’ known in history as: the mummer’s queen, daughter of ice date of birth: october 25th, 1637/1990 age: twenty nine star sign: scorpio  profession: former circus performer, retired olympic gymnast and now a public figure (modern verse) / princess of scotland (royal verse) loyalty: scotland, house stuart, the entente alignment: neutral evil  mbti: estj spoken languages: scottish gaelic, english, advanced latin, advanced french, intermediate german, basic greek (royal verse) / english, intermediate scottish gaelic (modern verse) mother’s name: margaret stuart nee. moray father’s name: james stuart siblings, if any: duncan stuart, thirty six, david stuart (deceased) height: 5’5” hair colour: reddish brown  eye colour: brown

- BACKSTORY / MODERN VERSE.

born in the bar staff toilets of an oasis concert, her childhood would prove just as exciting. ada’s parents had met in school, and eloped in their final year when her grandfather’s circus left town. eventually, james stuart had inherited the business and went on to become it’s next ringmaster. margaret became the show’s star with her awe-inspiring, gut-wrenching tightrope act. as they popped out kids, each took up a skill as they grew older and ada was no different. having grown up watching her mum’s skyhigh grace with wonder, she opted first for gymnastics. and despite the family’s constant moving, they always found a local class for ada to train in - recognizing her natural talent for the sport.

as she got older, she and her brother david began to take their knack for acrobatics to higher heights. both keen to perform up high, like their mother, they started to choreograph a trapeze routine. it took months to manage even a basic routine, and even longer until it was ready to show to the paying public, but eventually they had an act people were raving about. dubbed a little too on the nose as the flying scots. 

as time went on, the two siblings grew more confident and began to add more complicated moves to their routine. thrilled with the reception and the business it brought in, their father only encouraged them despite margaret voicing her concerns. to up the tension, their dad began to tinker with things. often making changes the evening of the performance to keep things exciting. with every tweak, ada began to feel more anxious. saying on more than one occasion that they were taking too many risks. but her brother would wave off her worries and assure her everything would be alright. and ada, always trusting of her older brothers, believed him.

so seeing david plummet thirty feet to the ground after overshooting the safety net was more than just a shock.

he died before the ambulance could arrive, and ada was rescued by the fire service after refusing to climb down and causing even more panic as she went into hysterics forty feet above. the stuart circus was shut down that very same night, and ada took off after the funeral. too traumatised to look her father in the eye, blaming him alone for david’s death. of which he blamed himself, too. it would be many years before she could forgive her father and reconcile with her parents.

still, ada needed to make a living and could no longer fathom taking to the trapeze again despite the many offers from other companies. not without her partner. plus the prospect of ever being up that high again was enough to leave her a sobbing wreck. she was still a professionally trained gymnast, and despite everything, still enjoyed the feeling the sense of discipline offered her. after a few months of rigid training with a coach, ada was selected to join team great britain at eighteen. old by industry standards. still, she worked hard for years, picking up medals along the way. by the time the 2012 games rolled round, ada was one to watch. one of the most talented sportswomen competing for the country. she snatched up the gold medal, only just beating the united states and russia. at twenty two, she was nearing the end of her career. but managed just one last olympic games, where she took gold once more, before she announced her retirement at twenty six. 

whilst her professional career took off, so did her personal life. a new sponsor was brought on for the 2012 games. some oil company that could do with some brownie points with the public, a nice good news story. you know, x factor sob story shit. what should have been a business deal that she paid no mind to ended up leading to the man she would marry. as son of the ceo, ada found herself running into charles at various events and dinners. their banter eventually led to a true bond and the rest, as they say, is history.

charles became the grounding force she needed after years of travelling and turmoil, and ada was the much more reckless influence that she supposed he needed too. the pair are now happily married, a shock to both their families. ada’s having expected her to perhaps never settle down, much less with the son of a billionaire. and the less said for charles’ parents the better. not that ada has ever cared for other’s opinions, and now feels fully content in her life. well not quite. she’d like a truckload of kids too.

ada, now retired, spends most of her time campaigning for sports in schools and training the odd kid or too for the next generation. she’s a little restless without a regular job, but she’s learning to adapt to it. to find the peace in the quiet moments. 

- BACKSTORY / ROYAL VERSE.

the last child to james and margaret stuart and the first daughter, ada came into the world on the cusp of a cold winter - the bells ringing through until morning to announce the princess’ arrival. she was the hope scotland grasped in the dark and long months that followed. it didn’t take long for the country to fall in love with their beloved bana-phrionnsa.

growing up with two older brothers birthed a wild and rebellious spirit. the young scot loved to do things, wanting to learn as much as she was able and more. a firm favourite of her father, ada was not barred from the lessons her brother’s enjoyed and she often joined with their sword training and horseriding. though she loved the outside, ada enjoyed performing and dancing as well as sewing her own dresses. a keen animal lover, ada has grown up surrounded by pets.

that same spirit found itself dimmed once the young princess was sent south to england, to wed the crown prince. a betrothal that had been brokered when she and charles were both young and their two countries were in turmoil with two warring crowns. it was hoped their marriage would bring peace, and perhaps force scotland to behave with their prized princess in their clutches. with the war, bringing scotland into the coalition alliance made the betrothal all the more imperative - as did the money the scottish crown possessed through the queen’s family. though ada had no wish to wed, she was dutiful and loyal to her family and went willingly. it helped that she had taken a fancy for young prince charles, the two developing a bond quite young. childhood sweethearts, that’s what the songs ought to have sung.

after the wedding, ada took to preparing to become the next queen of england with her usual vigour and enthusiasm. though she held little love for the english, she wanted to be a good queen, one remembered throughout history as being loved by all. more than anything, she wanted to smooth the tensions between her old home and her new. she has ambitions beyond her own self, to do good for all as a strong humanitarian and wishes to enact change. ada learned all she could, making friends with the suspicious nobles who soon fell to her natural charm. for a time she was happy in her position, eagerly showing her new ladies the latest fashions and dances, tending to the growing fondness in her marriage, holding court with the noble women of england. her brother’s sudden death came as a great shock to her. but at least she had charles to lean on, taking great support in him as she maneuvered through the awful grief.

but no royal was allowed this much happiness, much less a future queen. in one fell swoop, the life she had built for herself was snatched away with the reveal of charles’ true parentage. the queen was put to death for her disloyalty, and ada went from queen-in-waiting to the wife of a bastard. and with the death of the king following not long after, she was forced to watch as victoria ascended to the throne. unable to shake the feeling that she had stolen what was hers as she was crowned in her place. it didn’t take long for bitterness to seep in. alone in a country she had no love for, with no position to protect her, ada had never felt more trapped.

there was no taking refuge in the arms of her husband now. once there had been love between a hopeful future king and queen. in their place were two ghosts, made into strangers by the lies that lay between them. expectations had changed them both, and perhaps they might never find their way back to the young children who once had the world on their shoulders. tied together for good, first by marriage and then the discovery that ada was pregnant, ada unwilling to annul the marriage and suffer a bastard child of her own. now stuck in a foreign court for what she feels will be the rest of her days. or at least her husband’s.

now known as the mummer’s queen after being humiliated on the world’s stage and made the joke of an entire country, ada is hellbent on grasping back power for her child. a birthright she feels has been stolen from them. skills she once learned at court to become a good queen she now deploys in her attempts to manipulate a court that would have been hers in a different world. she has grown more paranoid in her isolation, distrustful of most around her and suspicious of their motives and so often tries to control others to soothe her own anxieties about her position and future. though she plays the part of a soft and fallen woman well, it is a misleading facade she has created in her years in england. beneath that she is indeed a venomous snake waiting to strike.

now with everyone reconvening at versailles to continue talks, ada has joined begrudgingly with charles but with ulterior motives of her own. reunited with her brother, now the king of scotland following their father’s unfortunate death ( some say it was from a broken heart, devastated after the loss of a son and ruin of a daughter ), the two siblings have begun to draw up great plans in secret. her loyalty to her family is one thing the english have not managed to taint, in fact they have made it stronger than ever. while europe plans for peace, ada has set her sights higher than the english throne, plotting to crown her child the next ruler of scotland. she now fixates on that future, never wavering from what she wants. though she has always been opportunistic, she has a longer term vision than the one her father originally envisioned for her. however, she is no fool. ada will continue to bide her time, careful in how she will rise to power as she reminds her brother they are playing no game. what they scheme is dangerous and could get them both killed. perhaps that is why she leaves her husband out of her plans for now, a small part of her not willing to put him in danger. a larger part having no trust in him at all. placing all blame on his shoulders, whether it is deserved or not.

ada is a lethal schemer. no longer the young and fun loving girl she had once been. she is long dead and perhaps might never return. she devises the ruin of some and ascension of others like a cat with a mouse, playing with their lives as if they were meaningless. with her elaborate plans and intricate schemes, nothing will please her more than to trap all those who mock her now. beware her complex designs, for she means no one any good once she has decided you are her enemy.

[thevictoryofthepeople]

If They Had a Kid || Tren

@drew-a-tanaka asked: “If they had a kid”

send me a pair name and I’ll tell you what I think it would be like if they had a child || TRISTAN ASK || @drew-a-tanaka

Tristan/Ren || Tren || Verse: Romancing the Devil || OTP: Playing With Fire || Ren Tanaka: The Devilishly Charming Son of Love 

Name: Theron Mendoza Tanaka

Gender: Male

General Appearance: A sweet, charming smile curves his bright, pink lips. Princely air surrounds him attracting everyone to him. He is slender and lithe, body sinewy and hard with muscle from the years of dancing he took. His eyes are gentle but piercing all at the same time, able to shoot either hearts or daggers in your direction. His charm is similar to his father, irresistible and magnetic. His hair shifts in color from a lightened version of his mother’s flaming hair to his purplish black from his father’s. He wears a dangling, cross earring on one side and six more hoops and studs on the other, giving him the slightest impression of a bad playboy. Of average height, standing only at 5′9″, his build and presence makes him look bigger than he really is. When his temper rises however, so do his flames, swaddling him and making him seem more intimidating and bigger than he really is.

Personality: A charmer with a mysterious smile and soft voice that makes anyone swoon at his feet. He knows they can feel his Aphrodite blood, knows how irresistible he is. He’s crowned himself a prince and his father is damn well proud for being able to do what he can. A dancer since a young age, he mesmerizes everyone with fluid movements and graceful skill. But despite the beauty and allure he holds, he also has a temper matching his mother’s. Anger him, make his blood boil and curdle, and he’ll flame up, turning from a soft flickering candlelight to a blazing conflagration wanting to melt your skin and tear you down to the Underworld. He’s quick to rise, a ticking time bomb. But he is also intelligent, inheriting his mother’s brains while inheriting his father’s ability to do business well. He is also persistent and determined to prove to everyone that he isn’t just a pretty face. He knows what he wants in his life and he’s not afraid of anything. He lives up to his name of “to hunt” in Greek. He hunts for everything and anything he wants in his life and finds a way to achieve and to have it. He never stops hunting, hungry for power and recognition, hungry for desire and lust, and he will hunt to the ends of the earth to get everything he wants. 

Special Talents: From his mother, he’s inherited her flames though not as strong. While she holds the fire of hell, he only possesses regular pyrokinesis until of course he reaches his breaking point and that’s when all hell breaks loose. He dances well in the areas of hip-hop and modern dance, a star in every stage he takes. His memory is outstanding, able to hold onto information for long periods of time. From his father, he inherited the ability of amokinesis, the ability to control the emotion of love or desire. A small smile and touch and he can make anyone crazy with desire.

Who they like better: He likes both of his parents equally and no one at all. He gets along with the both of them especially since they look after him, not wanting him to go through the mess they had experienced when they were growing up. But their doting can sometimes put him off. When it does, he likes to disappear and travel to Japan and Italy by himself though when he comes back, he usually gets a lecture. Despite the temper and the mess his family is made up of, he really does like his parents. He just doesn’t say it.

Who they take after more: Both. The quick temper is clearly from his mother while his enchanting personality comes from his father. His beauty and grace comes from both of them as well though he is said to look more like father than his mother. His intelligence and his impeccable negotiating skills are from both of his parents as well. He’s inherited both of their worlds, both good and bad.

Personal Head canon: Theron hates, absolutely hates his cousin Deimos, Drew and Geryon’s little innocent terror. Despite being the same height, Theron looks much more intimidating and bigger than his younger cousin. Deimos lives to mess with Theron’s day, liking the fact that he can quickly anger the prince. But if Theron complains, no one will believe him because he’s so much bigger and the image he exudes is that of a bad boy. He’s tried to calm down but he’s pretty close to burning his cousin to a crisp. 

Face Claim: Nakamoto Yuta (or in Westernized form - Yuta Nakamoto)

[monsterparnasse]

MONTPARNASSE’S RP PLOTTING CHEAT-SHEET

Want new-and-exciting plots for your character? Long to reach out to more of your followers, but don’t know where to start? Fear not! Fill out this form and give your RP partners both present and future all the of juicy jumping off points they need to help you get your characters acquainted.

                            — Be sure to repost, don’t reblog! Template here. —

Mun name: Kaitie OOC Contact: Tumblr IM or discord if you have it

who the frick is montparnasse anyway:

THE BOY. He was born Raoul Nejem, son of a French native and Pakistani immigrant. Outside of his father and uncle, he’s never really met his dad’s side of the family, but he grew up surrounded by his maternal grandparents, and his mother’s sister in a suburb outside of Paris. His family never really had a lot of money, but they made do. His father works as a pastry chef and his mother is in management of a small boutique chain. Raoul grew up in a loving environment, but the short of it is, he’s still a shitty human being. He was something of a bully in elementary school, getting others in trouble for the things he did, stealing from classmates, etc. The longer he got away with it, the more the habits stuck with him. He made rule breaking seem cool and by time he was in high school he was fairly popular with the wrong crowd and was starting to call himself Montparnasse. He was everything parents warned their kids about, but always wore a smile and put on a pleasant face in front of authority. In school itself, he coasted on average grades with bare minimum effort to keep them, but in the end he still dropped out his senior year to his parent’s dismay.

THE TEEN. Montparnasse left behind all ties to Raoul Nejem and moved to Paris proper with a friend. The two quickly lost track of each other and Montparnasse got involved with a rapidly increasing amount of crime. It started with knock offs, moved onto drug trade, and escalated to murder after a partner turned on him. It was self defense, but it shattered any remaining innocence of the boy from Arcueil. Having caught the attention of three older, more experienced criminals in the city, Montparnasse made an alliance with what would soon be known as the Patron Minette. Between the four of them, they had a wide range of influence in crime in the city and coming together brought them stability and control.

THE LEGEND. Montparnasse is now a name known throughout the criminal scene of Paris as Patron Minette’s boy king. He is not the leader of the four, that is a title they each hold claim to, but he is known for his theatrics and flair in a way that the others are generally not. He is a shadow, a thief, a crime lord. He is petty, vengeful, terrible, and capable of deceiving half of Paris with no more than a smile.

points of interest:

THIEF: Montparnasse has been stealing for the fun of it since he was a boy and has turned it into something of a career move. While he’s generally more of a night person, if Montparnasse is out and about during the day it’s generally in the business of lifting people of their wallets and valuables. Both wiith the Minette and on his own, Montparnasse is something of a burglar as well. Alarm systems do little to deter him.

DRUGS: Montparnasse is in the business of trading more than he is in the business of using. He and the Minette supply their dealers scattereed around the city and handle the shipping of the drugs into Paris more than anything. While he’s not opposed to using recreationally, he has a strict rule against injecting anything and ruining his skin with track marks.

FASHION: Montparnasse dresses in the best of what he can get his hands on. While having a strong hand in the knock off trade, he strives to replace his own fakes with the real designers. Even when he’s in jeans and a tee shirt, it’s safe to assume Montparnasse is either wearing or emulating a designer name. He is also known to wear clothing designed with women in mind, never so far as to be considered a cross dresser, but he does wear them casually and without care. Generally, it’s just in the cut of the pants or the shirt, but he has been known to wear other garments as well. Most notably, he wears heeled boots and has absolutely been seen running in them with something of a terrifying proficiency.

RECORD: He has been arrested on several occasions, but has never been caught for something that could put him away, much to the displeasure of certain inspectors. Eponine usually ends up posting bail for him since loyalty of the Minette does not really extend to walking into the hands of the police force.

MURDER: Montparnasse does not take this course of action lightly. While his associates might take to this a little more frequently than he likes, Montparnasse really has no inclination to get caught up in a murder investigation. If he needs someone gone, he leaves it to Claquesous and Gueulemer or tasks it to one of their subordinates. DO NOT, howvever, mistake his unwillingness to a lack of capablity. He can and will take a life if it comes down to it. He has no tolerance for traitors and will often personally put the bullet in the skull of anywhere who wears Minette colors and turns.

THREAT: Montparnasse is dangerous, but the majority of those who meet him do not know to what extent. While he can absolutely be charming and polite, he is generally something of an asshole and wears the ‘bad boy’ attitude as something of a badge. Most people, and this goes for the majority of Les Amis as well, do not know to what extent his criminal connections go. It is generally safe to assume he has some shady friends and probably carries a knife for more than decoration, but few connect him to the criminal organization that is practicaly running Paris underground unless they too have ties to the criminal underground. If that’s the case, Montparnasse is probably a name they reognize, even if they don’t connect it to the pretty boy in front of them.

DECEPTION: Montparnasse is willing to play to the assumptions made about him – to an extent. There are people who see him among the other leaders and think it’s some kind of joke. He has been taken as some sort of ‘boy toy’ to the other three on several occasions and has always let the bastard dig their grave before destroying them and brutally setting things straight. If there is a chance for him to use your assumptions of him to his own benefit, he absolutely will.

what they’ve been up to recently:

Montparnasse manages to keep a low profile, shockingly enough. While his reputation proceeds him, unless something Big™ is going down, his pursuits are generally played close to hand. On the regular, he is managing the Minette with the other three and dealing with those who report to him. He is largely involved in their knock off and smuggling dealings, often using the knock offs as a means of transporting other products including counterfeits and drugs.

where to find them:

THE THEATRE: This locale is limited to the heads and upper tier of Patron Minette, and probably Gavroche who is just, you know. Gavroche. This is the main headquarters of the four heads and where Montparnasse spends a good deal of his time organizing jobs and the like.

APARTMENT: Montparnasse has an apartment that is strictly his own and usually frowns on the other Minette showing up at it, or at the very least on them lurking around his doorstep. It’s a small, modern set up that he keeps extremely neat to the point it looks under lived in.

SAFE HOUSES: The Minette have a number of safe houses scattered in and around Paris that the four heads and a handful of their subordinates know about. Most learn about the locations after being brought to one by one of the heads when a situation got too hot.

SOUTH SIDE: Montparnasse does most of his business around the south side of the city in the area of the Montparnasse cemetery because he’s that kind of asshole. This is in the general vicinity of the Musain, so while he doesn’t usually attend the cafe, he does cross paths with its regulars frequently.

current plans:

CRIME: It’s not so much a plan as it as a life style. He’s just doing his day to day in managing his corner of the operation and keeping up his own standard of living through illegal means. He has no interest in the affairs of Les Amis and their lofty aspirations, he’s just focused on number one.

NOT PRISON: He can’t even begin to describe how badly he would like to not go to prison. Getting arrested is one thing, but the idea of an actual prison sentence is the kind of shit he chain smokes over at six in the morning when he’s trying to sleep.

desired interactions:

Montparnasse trying to get himself out of trouble is one of my favorite things in the world and watching him sweet talking his way out of and into anything is always fun. There is so much room to work with Montparnasse and I would love to explore him beyond the guy Les Amis wrinkle their noses at. I want to especially do more with Montparnasse flaunting his dangerous side, more so when it’s around other dangerous characters than the goody goods.

offered interactions:

The bad boy. The asshole. The thief. Montparnasse isn’t pure evil by any means, and he does have his redeeming qualities if you’ve managed to hack away at his 97 defense layers, but he is an antagonistic character. If you ever need someone to play the part of the jerk, he’s here for you. Montparnasse is pretty much the worst qualities of every dude T.Swift has ever sung about rolled up into one pretty, trash prince package.

anything else?:

I love all my alternate verses for Montparnasse, and I will always be excited to explore one of those with you too. Additionally, I have a not-so-secret-secret au option of interacting with older/post-barricade Montparnasse if you want him.

[rcsedoux-blog]

*    𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒚𝒏  𝒈𝒓𝒊𝒎𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒆 ;    alternate verses !

note :     all verses are derived from her   main canon,   with various tweaks.    these are,   perhaps,   subject to change if i develop something i like better,   but for now this is the status of her au’s.    p.s.   i’ll probably have an ouat verse at some point for her,   too,   as well as a regular modern verse,   and other crossovers.    that said,   this is what i’ve got for now !

SCHOOL FOR GOOD & EVIL.     accepted into the   school for evil,  thanks to her mother’s infamy in life.    a couple years ahead of sophie & agatha,   and is thus in her 3rd year during their first year.    considers sophie a rival,   as she considers herself the first   never   to prioritize beauty over uglification and operate her schemes by pretending to be a princess.    during her quest year,   she decides to embark on a mission to take back her mother’s kingdom from snow’s still living husband,   but ultimately fails in gathering an army.    she later joins the snake’s side and feels immensely betrayed by sophie becoming rhian’s queen.

EVER AFTER HIGH.     raven’s younger sister by only a year.    while raven often rejected her mother’s lessons,   evie was a little star pupil.    still,   as the younger child,   it was expected raven would take her mother’s place as the evil queen.    and when the time came to attend ever after high,   raven was the one who went off the school whilst evie stayed behind with their father.    however,   now that raven’s flipped the script,   headmaster grimm personally asked evie to transfer    —    just in case.    evie accepted,   and looks forward to having a genuine shot at becoming the new evil queen.    only,   years now of living with only her father’s influence,   and the student body’s rapidly changing view on destiny,   and she just might find that   good side   of her more prominent than she thought.

FABLES.     following her mother’s death,   evie received an eventual invitation to stay in the castle of snow white & prince charming.    seeing this as her opportunity for revenge,   she accepted,   and soon engaged in a fierce competition with rose red to seduce the prince.    yet,   evie soon began to realize this could be a fresh start for her.    she enjoyed the friendships slowly beginning to form,   with their opinions untainted by her mother’s infamy.    by the time she realized this,   however,   it was too late.    rose red and prince charming were caught in bed together,   and in an effort to lessen the blow,   they threw her under the carriage for her attempts,   too.

evie spent her first several decades in fabletown feeling bitter and getting into frequent trouble by indulging in the business of black market glamours and other such potions.    but it wasn’t terribly long before she realized how great her loneliness was.    this life wasn’t fulfilling,   and the other fables’ opinions of her were low.    so,   she eventually decided to move into mundy territory.    started up her own cosmetics business,   named   ROYAL COSMETICS,   all of which she specially charms to   really   pack a punch.    thankfully,   the money she brings in allows her to constantly travel,   and her magical talents give her an easy way to disguise herself to keep suspicion off of her when it starts becoming obvious how unnatural her aging is.    in present day,   she’s operating as one of the original evelyn grimhilde’s great-great-granddaughters now in charge of the company,   and has little affiliation with the other fables unless necessary.    it’s still something of a lonely life when she can’t fully be herself,   but evie’s learning to enjoy this fresh start    —    and even delving into the world of   fashion   these days,   too.

[strawberryfitzsherbert]

VERSES;

v; where magic lives

Eugene Fitzherbert never knew his birth parents. He was raised in an orphanage, stealing from the other kids and generally making a nuisance of himself - and then, on his eleventh birthday, an owl landed outside the dormitory window, carrying a letter addressed to him.

And Eugene Fitzherbert found out he was a wizard.

Now he’s a sixth year, Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, Defence Against the Dark Arts enthusiast and general trouble maker. When he’s not practicing Quidditch, he’s probably relaxing down by the Lake, either with some friends or alone with his ural owl, Maximus. That, or he’s found some excuse to go and talk to a certain blonde who always patches him up after Quidditch matches…

v; protection program (faceclaim: zachary levi)

The Princess Protection Program - a program by which princes and princesses are moved to the safe kingdom of Corona and must pose as regular citizens in order to keep a low profile. They must keep their identities secret from their newfound friends.

Eugene Fitzherbert is a not-so-law-abiding citizen, in and out of Corona when the need arises.

v; modern (faceclaim: zachary levi)

After being shifted from foster home to foster home for his entire life, poor orphan Eugene Fitzherbert is all grown up now and working as a bartender in The Snuggly Duckling, the local tavern. 

v; living in a pure illusion

Pre-movie verse. Flynn Rider: charming rogue and wanted thief extraordinaire. 

everything untagged - mainverse!

Now he’s going by Eugene again, living contented and secure in the castle with Rapunzel.

[oddair-moved-blog]

YA’LL i want legit hooker finnick things in a regular modern verse.  like gimme things where finn is this kid who gets roped into FOR REALS prostitution on the streets of some city because of parental debts or homelessness or something like, getting into cars on corners and pretending he’s older than he is.  gimme things where he works his way up as he gets older and becomes an ‘escort’ for hire because he looks like a high-class prince when he’s all cleaned-up and charmed-up, even though he’s been a hooker since sixteen and never even finished high school.  like...........GIMME 

[bollywoodirect]

Remembering #JahanaraKajjan on her birth anniversary. Hailed as the reigning queen of the stage, the glamorous movie actor, the trained singer, the fashionable modern girl, and the trendsetter, Jahanara Kajjan or Kajjan Bai, better known as Miss Kajjan was many a splendored personality. No wonder, in her heyday she was saluted as the ‘Lark of Hindi cinema’ and the ‘Beautiful Nightingale of Bengal Screen’. As a young lad in Lahore, I dimly remember, seeing her in Madan Theatres’ “Laila Majnu (1931). I recall its roaring publicity through splash of posters and eye-catching hoardings all over the city with dazzling pictures of Miss Kajjan. The novelty of Talkies was still fresh and cinema houses attracted big crowds, more so when films were packed with songs. “Laila Majnu” featuring Miss Kajjan and Master Nissar, the most popular singing pair of the stage was a spectacular success. I vaguely remember, a scene from the film, where Majnu (Nissar) looking for Laila (Kajjan) in the wilderness sings Laila Laila Pukarun Mai Ban Mein, Laila Pyari Basi More Man Main. “I am crying for Laila in the jungle when the beloved Laila is residing in my heart”. Those days, there were hardly any film magazines and the practice of publishing spicy interviews of stars was still a couple of decades away. There is a mention of Kajjan by Kathryn Hanson, a leading scholar of South Asian theatre history in her book “Stages of Life” (2011). Jahanara Kajjan (1915-1945) is pronounced there as ‘Popular singing actress, daughter of the courtesan Suggan and the Nawab of Bhagalpur’. There is a question mark on her date of birth since no authentic information is available. This applies practically to all female artistes from the professional class, who turned famous as theatre and cinema actors. However, the circumstantial evidence culled from Kajjan’s stage and cinema career in the late 1920s and early ’30s and also some reference to her love affairs during that period leads us to conjecture that she was born sometime around 1910. Kajjan belonged to a family of professional artistes, who carried the tag of tawaifs or courtesans. They were also invited by the princely courts and aristocracy to perform at their private mehfils. With their refined manners they provided stimulating company to the male elite. An established code of conduct ruled out marriage in their profession but they were allowed to have a liaison with a chosen patron. Kajjan’s mother Suggan apparently had one such relationship with her father. The anti-nautch campaign at the beginning of the 20th Century denigrated the singing and dancing profession. Some, among them, became gramophone singers or theatre stage actors. Kajjan received education at home and even learnt English. Well versed in Urdu literature, she wrote poetry under pen name “Ada” and some of her poems were published in Urdu magazines. She received intensive training in Hindustani classical music from Ustad Hussain Khan of Patna. Noting her mastery of ragas, her mellifluous voice and also her charming looks, she was hired by a theatre company at Patna. She is said to have performed on stage for three days at a fee of Rs.250 per show. She enchanted the audience with her golden voice. This paved the way to her joining Alfred Company owned by Madan Theatres of Calcutta. According to Fida Hussain, a Parsi theatre legend, “He worked with actress Jahanara Kajjan becoming her director and leading man”. Kajjan attained name and fame as a very popular singer and actor of the stage. The advent of talkies in 1931 brought a revolution in the entertainment scene. The phenomenal success of the first talkie “Alam Ara” in March 1931 inspired a number of producers to make their “all talking, singing, dancing films”. Madan Theatres of Calcutta, were already in the field and were only a few weeks behind when they hit the screen with “Shirin Farhaad” based on the stage play scripted by the renowned playwright Agha Hashar Kashmiri. “Shirin Farhad” beat “Alam Ara” as it was more refined technically and featured 42 songs by Kajjan and Nissar, already popular singing pair of the stage. The film was a tremendous success across India with Kajjan emerging as the first superstar of Hindi cinema. It is said that a tongawala in Lahore pawned his horse to see “Shirin Farhad” 22 times. It was followed by another super hit “Laila Majnu”, featuring the same duo Kajjan and Nissar. Another film that created history was “Indrasabha” based on the play written by Agha Hassan Amanat, the court poet of Wajid Ali Shah, the last Nawab of Awadh. Loaded with 71 songs, the film still holds the world record as “film with most number of songs”. The film with duration of three and half hours (211 minutes) was entirely in verse and Kajjan sang several songs, ensuring its roaring success all over the country. Some of the most popular numbers sung by Kajjan were — “Toone to mora man har leeno more banke saanwaria ” (Oh my dearest you have captivated my heart); “Chaman ko yun mere saqi ne maikhana bana diya ” (My wine server has turned the garden into a tavern); “Kab se khadi hun terey dwar, bula le mohe balam re ” (My love please call me as I have been waiting at your door for so long). Some of her other memorable movies were “Bilwamangal”, “Shakuntala”, “Alibaba aur Chalis Chor”, “Aankh ka Nasha”, “Zehari Saanp”, etc. By mid 1930s, the early enthusiasm for song-dramas, mythological stories and Persian love tales was wearing off and many film producers were forced to close shop, Madan Theatres among them. The classical numbers sung by the likes of Kajjan were losing their appeal and so was her theatrical acting style. She failed to receive any offers from the new producers. A wealthy woman, she stayed on in Calcutta, but after a couple of years with depleting resources, she was compelled to move to Bombay. Her Parsi connection, especially with Sohrab Modi, the doyen of Parsi theatre, helped her to get some acting assignments there. Kajjan’s career in Bombay was short-lived from 1941 to 1944, during which she appeared in six marginal films, with the exception of Sohrab Modi’s “Prithvi Vallabh”. Further, she was given only minor roles and got little chance to display her singing calibre. She lived a lavish life at Calcutta. Fond of pets, she even had two tiger cubs for some time. Kajjan was cited as a fashionable modern girl. A studio portrait of late 1920s shows her wearing makeup, ear rings, nose pin with finger waived hair, dressed in a sari with laced blouse. This very photograph was carried in an advertisement for face powder and hair products by “The Crisis (New York) 1928”. Kajjan had learnt western dancing and was a regular visitor to Calcutta Club, mixing freely with the elite gentry. On a personal front, she had a colourful life, with roaring love affairs with many of her co-stars. Fida Hussain, her theatre director and co-star openly speaks about the ups and downs of his romantic relationship with her. She was also intimately involved with Najmul Hassan, a very handsome actor of his time, who landed at New Theatres, Calcutta after being sacked by Bombay Talkies for his notorious affair with the leading star Devika Rani. There is little information about her personal life in Bombay, where she passed away unsung in 1945. Courtesy- The Hindu

[princesircastic-archive]

A Special Gift

@despxratesouls | continued

David carefully shook the wrapped gift, unable to resist seeking out a clue for what lay within. He heard the faintest rattle of something within, but nothing to give away its identity. “You never were one for rules, Philip...” He grinned. At the permission to open it, he carefully loosened the ribbon, taking his time to appreciate the wrapping. 

Once the paper was off he found himself presented with a box, unmarked and unadorned. His curiosity growing, he opened up the box and stared down at the simple dog collar resting in a bed of velvet cloth. Frowning slightly, he looked up at Philip, questioning. “What...?” There was a tag attached to it, unmarked on one side, but already inscribed with his name and number on the other.

[mamusiq]

Here is What Great Philosophers Thought of Music

Music has occupied the minds of many philosophers since the dawn of philosophy itself.

While philosophers and scholars of the pre-modern era kept studying music from an harmonic point of view and often delved deeper into the concept “musica universalis”–this time mediating it with Christianity, starting from the eighteenth century discussions surrounding the art of music became more articulate and varied.

Pythagoras (c.570 BC-c.495 BC)

Pythagoras, was credited with having elaborated the theory of the musica universalis, where the numeric proportions observed in celestial bodies translated into musical pitches and hums based on their orbital spheres. “There is geometry in the humming of the strings, there is music in the spacing of the spheres.” (Pythagoras)

Plato (c.428 BC-c.348 BC)

Plato maintained that the arts could shape one’s character to a great extent and, for that reason, they needed to be strictly controlled. Poetry, drama, music, painting, dance can all stir up emotions. Along with poetry and drama, music was regarded as important for young people’s education in his ideal republic— only the “good” music, that is. He was largely influenced by the theories of Pythagoras and his numeric mysticism, inspired by a series of overtones connected to the vibration of a string. “Ordered” music (ie. the one following harmonies) meant ordered souls. “Music is a moral law. It gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and charm and gaiety to life and to everything.” (Plato)

Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz (1646-1716)

Leibniz had a Scholastic background and, as a consequence, music was regarded as a byproduct of mathematics: he defined it “an unconscious exercise in arithmetic in which the mind does not know its counting.” However, he broadened his scope when he reflected on what made a successful composer, namely practice, vivid imagination and the knowledge of the past tradition, just like a poet needs to have read good poets prior to venturing into writing verse. Feelings of pleasure and pain were brought by consonance and dissonance. “Music is the hidden arithmetical exercise of a mind unconscious that it is calculating.” (Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz)

William Hogarth (1697-1764)

In his Analysis of Beauty, Hogarth isolated six principles that could affect beauty: fitness, variety, regularity (in the sense of “composed variety”), simplicity, intricacy, namely a difficulty in understanding that, however, challenges the individual in a pleasurable way, and quantity. He concluded his treatise with an analysis of the Minuet, since he considered Dance to be beautiful. Music, to him, remained ancillary and subordinate to dance. “The minuet is allowed by the dancing-masters themselves to be the perfection of all dancing.” (William Hogarth)

Immanuel Kant (1724-1804)

In his Critique of Judgement, Immanuel Kant discussed music while elaborating his judgement on beauty, which you can read here (it’s not the easiest read). Among the forms of art, he ranked instrumental music the lowest, because, unlike other arts, it had no moral purpose nor did it engage the intellect to a satisfactory degree. Adding words, as in song or opera, can somehow nobilitate that form of art. “Even the song of birds, which we can bring under no musical rule, seems to have more freedom, and therefore more for taste, than a song of a human being which is produced in accordance with all the rules of music; for we very much sooner weary of the latter, if it is repeated often and at length.” (Immanuel Kant, Critique of Judgment)

Arthur Schopenhauer (1788-1860)

Happy-go-lucky Schopenhauer theorized that aesthetic experience could elevate the subject from the will’s domination (don’t forget that, to him, mankind is slave to incessant cravings) raising him to a level of pure perception. He saw music as a direct manifestation of will—able to represent the metaphysical representation of reality— whereas arts like literature and sculpture were too entangled and related to human forms and emotions to measure up to music. Even in the opera, the libretto was subordinate to the score itself, being a “linguistic representation of a transient phenomenon.” His philosophy of music deeply influenced Wagner’s work, to the point that, even in his written works of music theory, he eventually became aligned with Schopenhauer. We have to thank him for the rise of the Symbolist movements and the development of the concept of Art for Art’s sake. “The inexpressible depth of music, so easy to understand and yet so inexplicable, is due to the fact that it reproduces all the emotions of our innermost being, but entirely without reality and remote from its pain… Music expresses only the quintessence of life and its events, never these themselves.” (Arthur Schopenhauer)

Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900)

Don’t let his feeble attempts at composing fool you: Nietzsche devoted a good part of his philosophy to the meaning of music. The late romantic concept of Art for art’s sake was an Idea he completely rejected, as, for him, music served a purpose. That art, however, was not intended for the audiences, but rather for a new kind of artist.

What’s more, to Nietzsche music was the last breath–the swan song, actually–of a particular cultural era: Händel captured the spirit of Lutheranism and the reformation, Mozart the age of Louis XIV; Beethoven and Rossini the spirit of the 18th century, and Wagner–whom he first worshipped, then scorned– the last representative of the dying German culture. “Without music, life would be a mistake.” (Friedrich Nietzsche, Twilight of the Idols, Or, How to Philosophize With the Hammer)

Theodor Adorno (1903-1969)

Music critic Alex Ross defined Theodor Wiesengrund Adorno the reigning godfather of German musical thought and the dark prince of intellectual life. He studied with Alban Berg, Schoenberg’s pupil and, from him, he absorbed the notion that music had to strike to unknown regions in order to stay true to a Wagnerian ideology of progress: hence, music has to get rid of all sounds that ring familiar and are true to the notion of “beautiful”.

When, upon Hitler’s ascent, he migrated to New York, he made scathing generalization regarding how people expressed music appreciation. To him, who embraced post Marxism, any work that attracted large numbers of people had no value and he openly despised Toscanini and his sold-out concerts, claiming that the fans were too “retarded” to truly appreciate the music of the great Masters: rather, they worshipped the money they were spending for that experience. “They [the critics] deal with Schoenberg’s early works and all their wealth by classifying them, with the music-historical cliché, as late romantic post-Wagnerian. One might just as well dispose of Beethoven as a late-classicist post-Haydnerian.” (Theodor W. Adorno, Essays on Music)

http://www.cmuse.org/great-philosophers-music-quotes/

[trendingnewsb]

Inside La Colombe d’Or, modern art’s home on the French Riviera

Cannes, France (CNN)Walking around La Colombe d’Or, a casual eye places it among the many inns dotting the French Riviera. This Provencal auberge wears its rustic charm like a badge of honor, or perhaps armor, warding off the dull trappings of the 21st century.

Whitewashed plasterwork, scratched and scuffed, evokes simpler times. The inn’s many nooks and crannies speak of a building that has lived, breathed and grown over the years, before settling into reassuring, unrefined normality.

Discovering the Riviera’s hidden masterpieces

Except there’s nothing normal about La Colombe d’Or. Look closer and artworks start to emerge: a Picasso nestled in one corner, a Matisse in another. In the courtyard outside, an Alexander Calder mobile rotates in the breeze while a Fernand Lger mosaic remains unmoved.

Some of the greatest names in modern art, nonchalantly arranged to look not only as if they belong, but as if they were created here. The thing is, some of them were.

“[The artworks are] completely part of the house, so we don’t think of it anymore,” says the inn’s third-generation owner Daniele Roux. “But you can’t touch them, because the alarm system is so strong.”

Perhaps unsurprisingly, she won’t be drawn on La Colombe d’Or’s insurance value.

Tea with Matisse

The story of La Colombe d’Or (which translates as “The Golden Dove”) is of a family that played the long game. In 1931, farmer’s son Paul Roux and his wife Baptistine opened their restaurant in a secluded corner of Saint-Paul-de-Vence, a medieval hilltop village west of Nice.

Its raison d’etre was bon vivance; good food and good times, a place to while away lazy summer days, eat heartily and drink well.

With a handful of rooms above a bustling eatery, there was nothing remarkable about the inn’s setup. What no one could have anticipated was the clientele drawn to this crumbling bolthole and its unlikely role as a meeting place for the creative elite of the 20th century.

“Portrait of a woman,” by Henri Matisse.

World War I drove many French artists south, where they took up residence along the Cote d’Azur. When peacetime came, some stayed. Among them were Fernand Lger and Georges Braque, who Paul — a versed, if not schooled art admirer — befriended. Alongside them, an aging Henri Matisse.

“He didn’t really come in because at the time he had problems with his legs,” says Paul’s granddaughter-in-law, Daniele. “Paul Roux would spend time with him in [Matisse’s] limousine,” on occasion taking tea.

The artist became a regular at La Colombe d’Or, and others soon followed, either as diners or lodgers.

Actor Yves Montand at the Colombe d’Or in front of a mosaic by Leger, commissioned in the 1950s.

Paul Roux was the fulcrum around which these artistic figures pivoted, “an autodidact and a man of lovely enthusiasm who, having begun to buy paintings, did not hesitate to provide accommodation for certain painters in exchange for their work,” writes Martine Prosper (nee Buchet) in the 1995 book “La Colombe d’Or.”

Paul Roux was admired and respected — a working class Peggy Guggenheim, thoroughly ingratiated with a community of modern artists without being a creative name in his own right. (Under the advice of Matisse, Roux did pick up a paintbrush in later life. His artworks now hang alongside those of his famous friends — one is to the left of the Miro in the main dining room.)

The guests’ wildly different styles, modes and philosophies all found a home under Roux’s roof. Within La Colombe there was commonality and community. Indeed, a sign hung above the inn’s entrance read “Ici on lodge a cheval, a pied ou en peinture” — “Lodgings for man, horse and painters.”

The friendship of Picasso

With the arrival of World War II, life in La Colombe d’Or held a reassuringly even keel, even as both German and American officers both found their way into its guest book.

In the post-war years its reputation was further enhanced. Joan Miro, Marc Chagall and Cesar Baldaccini all added to the inn’s growing art collection.

Pablo Picasso was a regular visitor and became firm friends with Paul. But the Spanish master left no impression on La Colombe’s walls until shortly before Paul’s death in 1953.

Spanish painter Pablo Picasso at the bar of La Colombe d’Or during the 1950s.

“Paul was not well physically, and Tichin [his wife’s nickname] was a strong woman,” recalls Daniele. “She went round to see Picasso and said: ‘You promised you would give him a painting one day.'”

He offered three paintings and Paul chose one. “Flower Vase” still has pride of place. On the day of Paul’s funeral, Picasso was the first to pay his respects.

Post-modernists

Paul’s son Francis took the reigns, but one night in 1959 — disaster. All the paintings were stolen; all except one, a Chagall. The artist came down the next day, most irked, Daniele says. Clearly the thieves had poor taste. (Word spread of the theft and all the paintings were soon returned.)

By the ’60s a new set was frequenting the inn. Intellectuals Jean-Paul Satre and Simone de Beauvoir would stay, while James Baldwin’s fiery rhetoric could often be heard at the dining table. The American iconoclast even relocated to the region after staying at La Colombe in 1970, remaining in the area until his death in 1987.

“The Thumb” by Cesar (1965).

As with so many things on the Cote d’Azur, the inn was not untouched by the Cannes Film Festival. Stars of the “Nouvelle Vague”, Brigitte Bardot and director Francois Truffaut, spent days in the dappled shade of La Colombe’s courtyard, along with Orson Welles, Charlie Chaplin and David Niven, while Roger Moore owned a house nearby. Its glamorous credentials were never in doubt — the kings of Sweden and Belgium, and Edward VIII (then Prince of Wales) all visited in the 1950s.

Successive generations continue to pay pilgrimage.

French literary titan Bernard-Henri Levy has written several of his books at La Colombe. Prosper and Martine Assouline, founders of their eponymous publishing company, based their first title on the inn, such was their adoration.

Episode 14: The allure of French Riviera style

Artworks continue to be added, most recently a giant ceramic apple by Irishman Sean Scully in 2007. New young names are scouted out by Daniele and Francois, though most works lie in storage. By and large, the painters have gone, and the region that inspired them has become a playground for people who buy masterpieces rather than those who paint them.

But three generations in, there’s little sign this Provencal institution will cash out. A precedent was set by Paul Roux many years ago when a wealthy American tried to buy the business. He sent back a bouquet and a note: “These flowers are for you, La Colombe is for my son.”

Daniele laughs at the mention of a fourth generation, batting away the question. “We have a son, we have a daughter, but we’re still here and we’re going to see what happens,” she says. There’s no pressure on them, she insists.

If they one day accept the role, their charge will be to uphold an idiosyncratic space of art and life well lived — to find room, amid the modernist bricolage, for the next chapter of its story.

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Goodbye - Our muses have one last night before breaking up/leaving each other (CaptainCharming)

Meme | Not Accepting | @captaindashingrapscallion

It was for the best.

They’d both agreed - they wanted different things, at that moment, for their futures. David needed to go and study further, focus on getting the higher level degree so he could, eventually, get his dream job. Killian had his own plans for his career, and the two, right then, simply didn’t mesh well. They’d hardly see anything of each other between their individual work and study loads, and it would, ultimately, put a strain on their relationship. Better to part now as friends than to end up hating each other.

It wouldn’t be easy. They still loved each other. It was going to be a difficult few months as they adjusted to life where they were back to what they’d been at the start: Liam’s younger brother, and Liam’s best friend. But that was something they had to face tomorrow - for now, for tonight, they still had each other, and they were going to make the most of their remaining time.

Drawing Killian close against him, David captured his lips in a slow, lingering kiss, his hands smoothing down Killian’s t-shirt before his fingers hooked underneath it, seeking skin, pushing the fabric up far enough so he could splay both hands against Killian’s bare back.

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Keeping Secrets

@captaindashingrapscallion | continued

"Bored?" David grinned, watching his partner dress whilst shamelessly admiring the view it provided him. "I could never be bored with you, love." He slipped out of the bed himself, pulling on a pair of pj trousers and his dressing gown. He leaned into the kiss, allowing himself to linger a little longer than he probably should have done. Given that the shower was still running, he figured they had time.

"One day, I won't have to. I promise." He took Killian's hand, lacing their fingers together securely. "You're the best for understanding, you know that right? I just… I need to find the right time, and I like this just being ours, y'know?" He stole another kiss, aware that he was tempting fate by delaying Killian's escape further. "Now c'mon, knowing my luck he'll decide to cut his shower short for the first time in his life."

He crossed to the door, opening it as quietly as possible, thankful that the hinges didn't creak or groan. He led the way to the stairs, grinning back at Killian as he deliberately stepped over the one creaky floorboard at the top of the stairs.

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“Someone’s coming. Is that your brother?" (Kil to David)

Morning After starters | Not Accepting

David really didn’t want to move. He was far too comfortable, tucked up against Killian’s chest, still buzzing from the night before. If given the choice he would quite happily never get out of that bed again. Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be an option. Killian was right - there was a definite creak of footsteps on the stairs, and a quick glance at the time told him it was almost certainly his brother coming home from the night shift.

Shit. 

Extracting himself from Killian’s arms, David sat up, clutching the sheets around his middle as he listened closely. With any luck, James would go straight to his bedroom and fall asleep, and they could avoid an awkward encounter. James seemed to linger, however, about where the bathroom was. Even better, David mused. The noise of the shower would provide excellent cover. He almost grinned when he heard the click of the light, and a moment later, the sound of water running.

“You’re going to have to move.” David muttered to Killian. “We’ve got about ten minutes before he’ll be done.” Just in case Killian thought he was trying to get rid of him out of shame, he curled a hand around the back of the other man’s neck and pulled him into a kiss. I don’t want you to go, but James can’t know.