Tuesday, 3 September 2013

Around The Camp Fire Gathered - Label Stickers Coda.


Once upon a time a long, long time ago, just after  supper and hours before breakfast, a group of villagers sat down together. They brought with them pens, paper, and paint brushes; they carried musical instruments of various kinds - some they blew, some they strummed and others they banged. They also brought with them their furtive imaginations the better to tell tall tales around the camp fire. The wine and the fire warmed their bodies and souls as they began, each, in turn, to tell a story, sing a song or paint a picture. Collectively they played beautiful music the like of which had never been heard before. It was neither jazz nor orchestral and yet it flowed with melody, with counterpoint and glorious improvisation; it was not folk and yet it had the same earthy quality. The stories they told were filled with blunt truths and mystic realism's as magical as fiction but as true as life. The paintings featured all manner of creative illusions some of which were dark while others were light. Landscapes and dreams, the grotesque and the absurd.
The gathering liked all they heard but also what they saw. They called the stories, stories, the music, music and the art, art for that is what they were.
Then some smart arse got up and declared himself a post neo-modernist deconstructionist mayhem architectonicist.
That left one or two jaws slack and several pairs or eyes glazed.
At the end of the day all the village wanted was to hear something wondrous told, something beautiful played and something half decent to view.
The gift of intellect that we enjoy over our fellow primates and animals in general tends to lead us down some very odd avenues indeed. I am not opposed to having labels for various subtleties of the same thing, I use them myself the better to describe new sounds or innovations that merge one sub-genre with another but really, do we need so many of the bloody things? Too often it smacks of someone somewhere with a fragile or perhaps enlarged ego trying to make himself seem awfully clever; building a coal bunker for him/her and friends to co-exist in. 

Pack it in. Turn it up. Leave it out.

There simply are some people whose work has been, certainly at the time they were active, utterly un-classifiable.
Think Blake. Think Beefheart. Think outside of the box.
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all words and art are copyright © of Russell 'C.J' Duffy. He is a one don''t you know?

1 comment:

Vanessa V Kilmer said...

I think some people make up labels for things to steal other people's creativity because they have none of their own.