The Panaros insisted they not be displayed. After the war, when her daughter was 10, Dorothy met and married an army veteran several years her senior. He adopted Madeline and they had another child. Their marriage lasted almost four decades until his death in For more than 50 years, Dorothy was active in her local Baptist Church, serving several years on the Board of Deaconesses.
When Dorothy died at 92 in , her survivors included her children, as well as almost a dozen grandchildren and great-grandchildren. The longer Dorothy lived, the more distance she put between her turbulent early life with Frank La Salle and the more settled, family-oriented existence she likely always sought. I wanted to talk to him. When he was up for parole, sick with lung and heart problems, Madeline volunteered to have him live at her place should he be released early.
That did not happen. We talked as father and daughter would talk. He made model boats and leather pocket books. He was just dad. Truth be told, I never thought about whether he was guilty or not guilty. The novel could be a morality play, or completely amoral. It could be a cosmic joke played by the most unreliable of narrators, Humbert Humbert. Not only must Humbert Humbert answer that question with a denial-stripping yes, but so too must Vladimir Nabokov. Readers can, if they wish, put aside Dolores Haze as a character in a novel, even a great one.
A girl denied the chance to grow up. A girl immortalized, and forever trapped, in the pages of a classic novel of satire and sadness. Ces gens ne se rendaient pas compte. Les films ne seraient plus un sujet de conversation. Kinski est-il digne du culte qui lui est rendu? En Allemagne, personne ne met vraiment en doute les accusations de Pola Kinski. En , Constance a 16 ans. Elle rentre chez elle faire ses devoirs. Une Chanson devenue un film. Il me propose de venir le voir chez lui, en cassette.
Serge me propose de rester dormir, nous dormons ensemble. Un dandy, avec une allure folle et unique. Je ne sais jamais quand je vais le revoir. Parle de la mort en blaguant. Marlow Stern The Daily Beast Film festival reviews are, as is their wont, often prone to hyperbole. Even the most weathered of movie critics can get swept up in the wonder of it all.
But make no mistake about it: For me, I was maybe ten years old. I was in love with my cousin, I remember. Every time he came in, I could feel my heart beating so fast. Once, I remember he came in and saw me playing with my Barbies and I turned red and felt so embarrassed. The first people that I started to feel something for in that way were my cousins, too. But when I really fell in love and discovered how stupid you can be and everything, I was about But it was a bad story.
This is a very immersive role that demanded a lot from both of you. You must have had a lot of trust in Kechiche before signing on to this. The director has all the power. He warned us that we had to trust him—blind trust—and give a lot of ourselves. He was making a movie about passion, so he wanted to have sex scenes, but without choreography—more like special sex scenes. But once we were on the shoot, I realized that he really wanted us to give him everything.
We met once for a camera test before, since she was already cast, but that was it until the shoot. And was it difficult to shoot that minute sex scene? The scene is a little too long. No, we had fake pussies that were molds of our real pussies. It was weird to have a fake mold of your pussy and then put it over your real one. We spent 10 days on just that one scene. You get the sense that they want to eat each other, to devour each other.
So are you two really good friends now? You know each other a lot more intimately than I know most of my friends. It was supposed to only be two months, then three, then four, then it became five-and-a-half. By the end, we were just so tired. For me, I was so exhausted that I think the emotions came out more freely. And there was no makeup artist, stylist, or costume designer. After a while, you can see that their faces are started to get more marked. We shot the film chronologically, so it helped that I grew up with the experiences my character had.
This is an important film. This film is very modern. We never saw a film like this before—a love story this realistic. And it says a lot about the youth of today. Before gay marriage was legalized in France, there were huge demonstrations in France with even mothers with small children shouting terrible insults.
But sex scenes aside, what was the toughest scene for you two to film? We spent weeks shooting scenes. Even crossing the street was difficult. And by the end of it, [Kechiche] burst into a rage because after takes I walked by Adele and laughed a little bit, because we had been walking by each other doing this stare-down scene all day. It was so, so funny. But me, I always took trains in secret to see my boyfriend. So… was this filmmaking experience enjoyable for you at all? We wanted to give everything we have, but sometimes there was a kind of manipulation, which was hard to handle.
But it was a good learning experience for me, as an actor. It is such a brilliant film. Yeah, because you can see that we were really suffering. With the fight scene, it was horrible. She was really hitting me. She was trying to calm me, because we shot so many intense scenes and he only kept like 10 percent of the film.
So this was clearly a grueling shoot.
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What was the first thing you did when shooting wrapped? But I took five days off and did like… three films in a row. Chose rare, et terriblement frustrante. Il y a toujours des moments de tension. Un technicien du Nord raconte: Et tant pis pour ceux qui doivent ramasser! Allez chercher une montre! A son retour, il y a comme un malaise: Soudain, il a dit: Mais pas pour les techniciens. Tous trois se quittent alors sur une promesse: Il aurait apparemment un projet.
Elle est la plus connue de toutes les groupies. Un an plus tard elle vivait avec Paul McCartney. While his films are not generally known for being light viewing, the current film, which debuted earlier this year in Cannes and screened at the recent Toronto and New York film festivals, is especially layered with disturbing yet beautiful imagery and psychological trauma. Despite their effort, things go from bad to worse, with a surreal degeneration into madness. It was a new experience for me.
Six months later, just as an exercise, I wrote a script. It was a kind of therapy, but also a search, a test to see if I would ever make another film. While von Trier does not travel to America, he nevertheless manages to make a presence, and insists on seeing his interviewers.
Though he speaks openly of debilitating depression and dishes out dark humor, von Trier is surprisingly funny and even jovial — at least during our 20 minutes with him. In anticipation of speaking with him, indieWIRE solicited questions from our readers. We also threw in a few of our own for good measure.
In the interview, von Trier speaks of his depression, airplanes, working with actors, and not wearing pants. Laughs Neither am I. They are much more positive than I would have thought. There was a tendency in Cannes, I think, to go a little bit after the man instead of after the ball — that it was very important, what I meant and what I felt — which is, you know, maybe not the best way to see a film.
So, as you may know, we solicited our readers for questions to ask you. This is from a film student. His name is Jason Cooper. Yes, I must say I am. This was a follow-up question from Jason. Or is this something that comes about after the script? Finally, was there a purpose behind only having two actors with this film thematically, or was this the ideal option because you know you would have to direct this film while suffering from depression?
It had nothing to do with that. But I think that any director at a certain time has a dream of making a film with only two persons in it. I can only say yes, I think so. Yeah, I have thought about that, but she was also in the same situation. Yeah, I can only apologize. When you put it like that, the film has the tendency to be more banal than it really is.
The film is much more than just a foundation for a film. Of course, I work very much with the collisions between different things — sexuality and nature, sexuality and morals — all of these things, but when you have a mention like this, I hope the film is better than that. Is the process different film to film? I think working with actors is a little bit how a chef would work with a potato or a piece of meat.
You have to kind of have a look at the potato or the piece of meat and see what kind of possibilities are in the ingredient. I think my job is to see what potato is there and from there, just work under their conditions. Bjork I may have forced here and there.
For the good of the film, I just need to give them what they need. They were extremely kind to me. A Bergman film becomes a Bergman film because of the expectations of the actors and everyone involved [know] what they expect. If I should make a film about flying, it would be fantastic. I have been in airplanes a few times, and it is really a fantastic experience.
I do have an auto camper. It would take me some years to be able to get back in a plane. The next question is from a reader, Lucas Kollauf — a general question about Dogme. Why did you move away from the Dogme95 movement that you helped create? How does that experience influence or affect your work today if at all? I make rules for all of my films. The Dogme rules were decided to make me concentrate on all the things I was beginning to get good at, like tracking shots. I was not on the top of my ability. But normally I would make some rules. There were rules in this film like how panning shots would turn into still shots, but not that many.
Why did you feel like you had to continue making it if it was such a challenge? Some parts of the film I feel good about, but it took me a very long time to feel good at all about this film. How do you tap into stories when you write? And, what is the general intrigue of storytelling? Some things that were much easier when we were younger are now much more difficult.
I wish I could because I would be better off right now. What I do is wrong right now, so maybe I should not watch films. Okay, I hope you guys cheer up before I talk to you again. Tambourine Man, sans en comprendre le sens complet. Dylan, dit-il, mine et sape le langage. Que Dylan a de bonnes lectures. Et pas seulement dans le protest-song.
No one has been a fiercer critic of the Nobel Prize in Literature than I. The best for whom? Does every work cater to everybody? The Nobel for literature is an accident of history, dependent on the vast endowment that fuels its million-dollar award. What it reveals more than anything else is the collective desire, at least here in the West, that there be winners and losers, at the global level, that a story be constructed about who are the greats of our era, regardless of the impossibility of doing this in any convincing way.
At times I have even thought the prize has had a perverse influence. The mere thought that there are writers who actually write towards it, fashioning their work, and their networking, in the hope of one day wearing the laurels, is genuinely disturbing. And everyone is aware of course of that sad figure, the literary great who in older age eats his or her heart out because, on top of all the other accolades, the Swedish Academy has never called. They would be better off if the prize did not exist. As for the journalists, one might say that the more they are interested in the prize, the less they are interested in literature.
All that said, this year I have to admit that the judges have done something remarkable. And you have to say, chapeau! For they have thrown the cat among the pigeons in a most delightful manner. Second, in provoking the backlash of the purists who demand that the Nobel go to a novelist or poet, and the diehard fans who feel their literary hero has been short changed, they have revealed the pettiness, and boundary drawing that infests literary discourse.
Art is simply not about a solemn attachment to this or that form. But the most striking thing about the choice of Dylan has little to do with his primary status as a musician rather than novelist or poet. Far more interesting, at least from my point of view, as a long-term resident in Italy, translator, and teacher of translation, is that this prize divides the world, geographically and linguistically, in a way no other Nobel has done. Which is quite something when you think that the Nobel was invented precisely to establish an international consensus on literary greatness.
Which is to say, in most of the world. For however arbitrary and absurd the prize might be, the judges themselves no doubt take it seriously and do their best. Even in those cases where there are translations, those few people who read and think about poetry are usually sophisticated enough to realize that a poem in translation is not, or only rarely, the real thing. More a shadow, a pointer, a savoring of impossibility.
But everyone has heard Dylan, everyone who has a radio or watches television, worldwide. In this sense the jury has exposed itself as never before. And they have heard him in the pop culture mix alongside other musicians and bands whose lyrics are perhaps banal and irrelevant. Outside the English-speaking world people are entirely used to hearing popular songs in English and having only the vaguest notions of what they might be about. Dylan sings the words clearly enough. But for the foreign listener this is hard work.
How to parse this phrase? When we read poetry on the page we take time over it. We puzzle over it. When we hear poetry sung, and sung intensely as Dylan sings, drivingly, with a snarl and a drawl, which is also a sophisticated form of irony, how can we, if we are not native speakers, be expected to appreciate it? So we have this fantastic paradox. Of all Nobel winners, Dylan is surely and by far the best known worldwide. But only known in the sense that people have heard the songs, not understood, not relished the words.
So, barely an hour after the Swedish Academy made its announcement. Needless to say, there are some translated versions of Dylan in Italy. We should hardly be surprised then if outside the English-speaking world the controversy over this Nobel is even fiercer than within it. For the award has laid bare a fact that international literary prizes usually ignore, or were perhaps designed to overcome: And language is a crucial part of that. To differing degrees, and in the teeth of internationalism and globalization, this will be true of every literary work.
Ce dernier chapitre est le plus long car il est infini. Je voudrais juste vous familiariser avec les plus notables. It takes a long time to find a band of individual players. Je termine avec quelques liens utiles. Live at the Supper Club. Mais comme Dylan est encore bien vivant, vous avez encore du travail. Je suis fier de toi. Allez, on se revoit au prochain semestre pour parler de Neil Young? Here, they suggested, was a first fragment of Dylan lyrics written in his own hand. And so it was, apparently, in , when a young kid named Bob Zimmerman scribbled out a poignant little poem on two sides of a single sheet of paper in blue ink — and signed it — for submission to his Jewish summer camp newspaper in Wisconsin.
The paper, called the Herzl Herald, did not to think to its question the provenance of the poem. Nor did its editor and fellow camper, Lisa Heilicher. And when Zimmerman became Dylan and became famous, she placed the poem in clear plastic for safe-keeping. This particular Dylan lot, they said in unison, should go under the tagline: Young Zimmerman would have been a mere seven years old at the time.
Never mind all this, however. Whether they fetch the kind of money that they and the dilapidated summer camp had been hoping for is, of course, quite another question. The viewing rooms were nearly empty when I was there and the paintings—well I can only say they were disappointing. The man, himself, admitted he had done some of the paintings from other images.
This has led many, especially younger people, to believe the use of other works of art is outright theft. Most art is copied and reinterpreted. We Shall Overcome, a key anthem of the civil rights movement, is a good example of the folk process. The lyrics of the song originated from a gospel song published in by Rev. Originally titled We Will Overcome, it was a favorite of Zilphia Horton, then music director of the Highlander Folk School of Monteagle, Tennessee, a school that trained union organizers.
She taught it to Seeger. The song then became associated with the civil rights movement from , when Guy Carawan stepped in as song leader at Highlander, and the school was the focus of student non-violent activism. Seeger and other famous folk singers in the early s, including Joan Baez, sang the song at rallies, folk festivals, and concerts and helped make it widely known.
It was at Highlander that Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. The passing of traditional tales and music among musicians from ear to ear. Bob Dylan has engaged in the folk process all his life. Now 70, Dylan has continuously borrowed lyrics and melodies. Altman noted from the liner notes that the song gives a compositional co-credit to the late Willie Dixon.
The rest is history. The song had come from the melody of a spiritual called No More Auction Block for Me, a song that Dylan had probably heard first on a Carter Family record. They sang it on stage at Gerdes and asked Dylan to join them. Later, in and 64, the New World Singers took the song to Mississippi, where it became a civil rights anthem. Cohen revealed another interesting fact about that first recording.
Altman revealed another side of Dylan to the class, one as an aggressive promoter of his compositions from the earliest days. It became a hit for them. Niles was referred to by Dylan as an early influence in Chronicles. When it became a legal issue, the song was actually traced to a number that was exactly the same as the one by Paul Clayton. So, in effect, everything that Dylan took was actually in the public domain. Dylan and Clayton remained friends even though their publishing companies sued each other. In virtually all cases, what Dylan borrowed, he improved. I read that before the Gagosian show Dylan wanted assurances that his art would not embarrass him.
The advice he was given was it would not. Sadly, these voices of commerce misled Dylan. Sufficiently impressed, Dylan looked up the teacher the next time he was in New York. Let me see what you can do. I wound up staying there for maybe two months. This guy was amazing…. When Dylan looked back upon what happened during those two months, he came to believe that he was so transformed as to become a stranger to his wife:. I went home after that and my wife never did understand me ever since that day.
She never knew what I was talking about, what I was thinking about. Dylan talked about Norman at length to Pete Oppel, describing in more-than-casual words how Norman taught in his eleventh-floor studio in Carnegie Hall:. In this class there would be people like old ladies — rich old ladies from Florida, — standing next to an off-duty policeman, standing next to a bus driver, a lawyer. Some art student who had been kicked out of every art university. Young girls who worshipped him. A couple of serious guys who went up there to clean up for him afterwards — just clean up the place.
He talked all the time, from eight-thirty to four, and he talked in seven languages. He would tell me about myself when I was doing something, drawing something. I thought I could. It seems, then, that Norman was more interested in metaphysics than in technique. His teaching dealt with ultimate realities which could be expressed in a variety of modes.
It is not certain that Norman made Dylan a better painter, but he clearly changed Dylan:. He looked into you and told you what you were. If you were interested in coming out of that, you could stay there and force yourself to come out of it. You yourself did all the work. He was just some kind of guide, or something like that….
Since that point, I more or less had amnesia. It took me a long time to get to do consciously what I used to do unconsciously. He put my mind and my hand and my eye together, in a way that allowed me to do consciously what I unconsciously felt. Blood On The Tracks did consciously what I used to do unconsciously. But I did write the songs… the ones that have the break-up of time, where there Is no time, trying to make the focus as strong as a magnifying glass under the sun.
I knew how to do it because of the technique I learned — I actually had a teacher for it…. The songs cut deep, and their sense of perspective and reality was always changing. I was just trying to make it like a painting where you can see the different parts but then you also see the whole of it. And I believe that that concept of creation is more real and true than that which does have time…The movie creates and holds the time. I wish somebody would ask me first before they go ahead and print stuff like that.
Dylan once unconsciously created songs with the no-time quality of painting. And if Blood On The Tracks was to be the first attempt to translate what Dylan had learned from Norman into song, it was Street-Legal which Dylan would come to regard as the culmination of the insights into the nature of time as no-time. As he told Matt Damaker:. Street-Legal comes the closest to where my music Is going for the rest of time.
It has to do with an illusion of time. I mean, what the songs are necessarily about is the illusion of time. It was an old man who knew about that, and I picked up what I could…. But in a reader poll, fans voted for Blood as his finest work. His first proper studio album after years of reclusion, Planet Waves, had reestablished him as a commercial force in , debuting at No. Rolling Stone initially ran a mixed review of the album.
Is the album really a secret tribute to a Russian playwright? In his memoir, Chronicles , Dylan was assumed to be referring to Blood on the Tracks when he wrote: Critics thought it was autobiographical — that was fine. Novelist Rick Moody is an evangelist for the album, frequently proclaiming it the greatest album ever recorded.
In a speech that was subsequently anthologized, Moody rhapsodized: No longer was the focus on which lost love Dylan wrote the song about. Miley may not be the strangest artist to have covered one of the songs from the album. Hootie and the Blowfish paid serious tribute to the album… and paid for it.
Dylan did not do many interviews to promote the album, per usual. In a interview with Cameron Crowe that accompanied the Biograph boxed set, Dylan expressed his displeasure with the wisespread belief that the Blood lyrics were rooted in his real life. But at one point he at least acknowledged being able to see how other people could see Blood on the Tracks as his personal breakup album. The geographical references in the lyrics all pertained to Bernstein, as did, apparently, a particular flower. I would come up there for long weekends and then I would leave.
I did say I was planning a trip to Hawaii. And I lived in San Francisco, Honolulu, [her birthplace of] Ashtabula—to put it in a song is so ridiculous. But it was very touching.
musique | jcdurbant
Dylan fell under the artistic sway of a mercurial painter, Norman Raeben, who taught classes high above Carnegie Hall. At one point Dylan wanted the album to be less acoustic and more of a return to the Highway 61 Revisited sound. A version of the album that was recorded in New York City was finished and even pressed as a test acetate before Dylan grew displeased with it at the last minute. He decided to postpone the release by a month so he could re-record half the songs. That original acetate was widely bootlegged, and some fans still insist the five recordings that were scrapped are superior to the replacement versions he came up with.
Most Dylanologists think the call to re-do half the album was the right one, however. Those five tracks he got rid of have never been officially released on any of his subsequent Bootleg Series archival albums, although numerous other alternate takes have. But he insisted on moving forward, getting onto the next song without correcting obvious mistakes. Maybe this is the way geniuses operate. On the third try, he threw everyone off by playing a different song. The musicians stumbled… Barely having recovered from the shock, after a run-through or two of the new song, Dylan changed songs midstream, again, without letting anyone know… One by one, the musicians were told to stop playing.
To you I am a god! But I take some small measure of solace for my pain and limitations by telling myself that along with his blood, there is also a little bit of mine. Dylan and his brother were set to spend the holidays together in Minnesota, and David suggested getting a band of locally based musicians together right after Christmas to re-record some of the material.
Since Dylan had little patience for teaching a full band all the chords and changes of a song at great length, he ended up teaching the tunes to a local guitar shop owner, Chris Weber, who then taught the other musicians. Still, they rarely ran the songs all the way through before recording them. After 40 years, the Minneapolis musicians who made the album come alive have still never been credited for their work. In the book Simple Twist of Fate , the anonymous players expressed varying attitudes about never receiving the due they were promised.
Nor did they ever receive thank-you calls, gold records, or even a free copy of the record… just union scale. Not that even the guys who did get credit walked away happy. But I feel absolutely no bitterness about it. In the early part of the tour, he focused on the more upbeat material from Desire , but eventually shoved that aside in favor of angrier stuff. Three of the songs have only been performed live by Dylan once. She recorded the track for her album Songs for the New Depression — a version despised by many Dylan fans but beloved for its off-the-cuff silliness by a few.
D, you set me free. In , a movie version of Blood on the Tracks was announced. Our goal is to work with a filmmaker who can create a classic drama with characters and an environment that capture the feelings that the album inspires in all fans. Estranged from his wife at the time, living on a farm in Minnesota with his kids and his new girlfriend, he started filling up pages with story-laden imagery, thumbnail sketches that bled, one into another. Where do you end? You could still be writing it, really. What we encounter in these songs is layer upon layer of thematically-linked images, flicker-book fictions.
What we get instead is a cast of couples and jilted lovers, their battered narratives composed of raggedy scraps—not biography. If these scenes are meant to correspond solely to Dylan and the various women in his life, then why did he bother with the artistic obfuscation, the multiplicity of perspectives?
Why introduce the Man named Gray, the one-eyed undertaker, the roommates down on Montague Street? And why this determination to play Picasso with narrative? When you look at a painting, you can see any part of it, or see all of it together. On a purely technical level, however, the thing that definitively flicked the switch from heartbreak to newfound creativity was a matter of tuning. Specifically open-E or, to be even more specific, open-E tuned down a whole step to D. In the months prior to recording, he went around, trying the songs out on different people.
When he collared Mike Bloomfield, his foot was already tapping hyperactively, impatient to get the songs out. It took the guitarist too long to realize he was being used more as a sounding board than a collaborator. They all began to sound the same to me, they were all in the same key, they were all long. It was one of the strangest experiences of my life. Lily, Rosemary, and the Jack of Hearts This was a songwriter wanting less to polish his newly minted songs than to be rid of them. In the studio, he similarly kept his head down, ignoring everyone. But the performer in question was not offering any leads.
No quick rehearsals, no chord charts. Phil Ramone, the producer despite claiming greater responsibility after the fact , basically had the mic-stands set up and hit record. The tarot deck is stacked from the start, romance can only play itself out. Here, the very idea of finding shelter from the storm is an archaism from another lifetime, remembered nostalgically.
In the first few shots he stands shyly, chin deep in his lapels. Tangled Up in Blue Two months later, he was given a test pressing of the album which he took back with him to Minnesota and played for his brother. The younger Zimmerman sagely advised that said album was too dark and downbeat to be commercially viable. Columbia HQ was phoned and told to apply the brakes. A group of local musicians were rounded up in Minneapolis and half the album was re-recorded over four more nights, with an aim towards revitalizing the songs.
- The Embedded Librarian: Innovative Strategies for Taking Knowledge Where Its Needed.
In creating a far more dynamic album, however, some of the finer nuances on individual tracks were undeniably lost. Because Dylan was mostly unaccompanied on the New York Sessions and because every song shared that same open-E blood-type it was left primarily to his vocal to give the songs their shape.
Throughout the early sessions, it is his phrasing that adds depth and emotional range, drives the songs down their storied paths. Earlier, in New York, Dylan could have been singing from the floor of the studio lobby, so beaten-down is the performance on one take, his vocal is nothing more than a deathbed whisper. The performer was still walking wounded, still howling in the night. On these tracks, the blood was still wet.
After nine monolithic albums in eight years that not only described but actually prescribed the lives of an entire generation, then a creative drought of four years. After years of frenetic touring, then a seven year hiatus induced by a motorcycle crash. What was he doing in those interim years? Well, he married in and had four children. But then came In the midst of all this activity, Dylan began to study painting with 73 year-old Russian-born Norman Raeben, the son of Sholem Aleichem.
He stressed perceptual honesty rather than conceptualization. Now, show me how you would paint it. Raeben berated his students in class, with a kill-or-cure indifference to their feelings.
This metamorphosed into a songwriting technique employing a fragmented narrative of time, place and person. Events, personae, and sequences Bob and shift. It is left to the listener to struggle to reconstruct some coherence, some linear narrative. He never quite succeeds, because the images are built for slipping and sliding, defying mere denotations. But the energy generated in the leap between the given and the sought for creates a kinetic aesthetic experience, ever-changing, transcending time and place, forever young.
He would just start playing and expect the musicians to follow. Adding verses, extending breaks. At times, they pleaded with him to do another take. The NY takes are softer, gentler, more sincerely loving, more nakedly pained. The Minnesota takes have a harder surface, faster tempi, more aesthetically distanced. Uniformly, the New York takes are superior. Some of the Minnesota takes are respectable, none improve on the originals. That would be impossible. I mean, it, you know, people enjoying that type of pain, you know? We often forget what a master craftsman of lyrics Dylan is.
He has a command of the technique of writing lyrics that is often obscured by his many other talents. From the start, he invented new lyrics at every turn. In both, you can hear the clicking of his jacket buttons against the guitar. And you can feel the pounding of his heart. At the bottom, you can see the lyrics of Minnesota mostly first person juxtaposed with those from New York mostly third person. Serious people have made a study of comparing variant versions of the song. There are many more. And what is so remarkable is that every switch, every shift, works.
Do you get that? He writes a magnificent song, and then recreates the lyrics every time he sings it!! Not even Charlie Parker did that. Dylan plays with pronouns, with personae. Let your imagination work. He extricates her, they run off, they split. Boy, is there a whole world right there. Dante Alighieri, , author of The Divine Comedy.
In subsequent versions, this changed to Jeremiah and Baudelaire and others. This stoned, topless, brazen red-head introduces our Horatio Alger to Dante. Who knows who is in the scene—2 people? But the fragments are indelible: We know exactly where we are in every bar, be it a measure of beats or booze. But we always feel the same, we just see it from different points of view.
And we all know why. Bob and Sara Dylan are screaming themselves hoarse. Sara has just walked down to breakfast in their Malibu mansion to find Bob and their children sat down to eat — with another woman. This one has even moved into a house on their estate. In the furious slanging match that follows, she will later allege, Bob punches her in the face, damaging her jaw. Then he tells her to get out. But 30 years ago this month, in December , Dylan was completing its true epitaph. Written during their first separation, Blood On The Tracks is one of the most truthful dissections of love gone wrong in rock history, by turns recriminatory, bitter and heartbroken.
It comes at a cost. It is the culmination of eight years in which Dylan, settled with Sara and their children, tries to evade his fame and talent, seeking a series of bolt-holes across America where he can somehow be ordinary again. Trying hard to be a good husband, music ceases to matter. With awful irony, it takes his marriage smashing apart to rekindle his art. Blood On The Tracks is the record he pulls from the wreckage.
Hippies have been capering on his roof, swimming in his pool, fucking in his bed, marching up his driveway in straggling droves. They are coming for answers, or to stare and point, or with less clear, more malign motives. Rifles have been recovered from one persistent, insane intruder. With one part of his mind, Dylan fears his own weapons could mangle these fans.
Dylan the acid guru of Blonde On Blonde, who laid down what rock could be, then vanished from view as a generation fell under his spell. He is like Clint Eastwood in Unforgiven, hiding out in a farmhouse, wanting the world to forget him. He has put away the musical weapons that tore rock apart, and he has no plans to ever use them again. Dylan has lived in Woodstock since He married the ex-model Sara Lownds on November 22 that year.
Suddenly, he seemed content to walk his daughter to the school bus. In the afternoons, he would write and paint, or visit neighbours, while Sara typically for non-feminist Dylan did the chores. That was my deepest dream. Though good records, they were placid compared to their predecessors, a calm after the storm. After New Morning, Dylan made no more studio albums for four years. In Chronicles, Dylan claims the period was one of deliberate, near-schizoid deception.
The playwright Archibald MacLeish, frustrated at the superficial songs Dylan wrote for one of his productions in later used on New Morning , asked for something darker, truer. I was already living in the darkness. My family was my light and I was going to protect that light at all costs. The rock community buzzed with consternation as their formerly infallible leader flitted between silence and MOR experiments.
James Hodgkinson: Leftist Hate’s Poster Man
Before long, his impersonation of uninspired drift became all too real. Like some awful horror tale, the more he tried to flee from his fame, the more he circled back into its grip. Moving his family into the heart of his old Greenwich Village haunts, though, was hardly likely to shake off his fans. He even shoved past an outraged Sara to try to breach their apartment. Dylan eventually battered his tormentor in the street. But dreams of a normal New York life were smashed. But the drunken, leering machismo of a Peckinpah set in Durango was no sanctuary.
The Dylans made one last dash for freedom in , heading west to Point Dume, California. It was there that the pressure of their harried life began to tell, and cracks in their marriage appeared. The house started it. Sara wanted another bedroom, which the whole building was knocked down to accommodate. With a less than practical grasp of the building trade, the Dylans had soon caused the project to spiral out of control. An oriental dome crowned this rock folly. Bob and Sara, renting nearby with their five children, fell into fighting over fixtures and fittings.
No one had ever seen them argue before. Suddenly, songwriting joints that had seemed seized up creaked back into life. At one time to be titled Wedding Song, it had its share of odes to married bliss. It seemed to recall a regretted, sadistic affair. Bleak fantasy or confession, Dylan was soon cheating on Sara for real. The deal Geffen had tempted him with included a blockbusting comeback tour of America with The Band, and an accompanying live album.
Sara, though, stayed behind. The Band had roadies take Polaroids of girls wanting to get backstage, poring over potential beauties like horse-traders. Cast-offs were handed to the crew.
But by February, he was certainly straying. He met Columbia Records executive Ellen Bernstein, 24, in California, seeing her for much of that year. With his dream home a bomb site, Dylan was also back in New York by the spring. Here, he started a stranger relationship. When he anonymously attended art classes at Carnegie Hall, painter Norman Raeben, 73, took a fatherly shine to him. Dylan had male-bonded over his amateurish art before, with Woodstock neighbour Bruce Dorfman.
The catalyst came when Raeben made Dylan glance at a vase, then took it away. Dylan began to buzz with new ideas about perception, which would soon surface in his songs. At the same time, his adoration of the older man lured him further from Sara. She never knew what I was talking about. After eight years of suppression, the mask was slipping. He had begun to smoke and drink heavily again; even the mellow, mature voice he had essayed since Nashville Skyline when on a smoking break was roughed up, raw and raging on Before The Flood.
In summer , they separated. His new lover, Ellen Bernstein, visited for a while. Sara was rarely seen. In this bolt-hole, he began to write Blood On The Tracks. These were words singed by the experience of heartbreak, the year-old Dylan now ruefully mature. It still only took six days in all. But for a man who created the classic John Wesley Harding in six hours, that was a marathon. But the Dylan who arrived that night was skittish, with nerves, excitement — or maybe just the red wine he was gulping like water. We were totally confused, because he was trying to teach us a new song with another one playing in the background.
Their power showed the instincts of the apparently plastered Dylan were fully focused. But Deliverance was dispensed with the next day as he shuffled the deck, searching for the sound he really wanted. A new pared-down trio — pedal-steel guitarist Buddy Cage, bassist Tony Braun and organist Paul Griffin — finished the recording, which stayed well-oiled. Twelve tracks were completed at these New York sessions, whittled down to 10 for the promo version of Blood On The Tracks pressed and sent to key radio stations in November, as Columbia prepared for its release on Christmas Day, This phantom album, which would never make it to the racks, was very different from the record Dylan would eventually sanction.
And even at this stage, he was clearly worried by what such autobiographical insights might encourage in his troubled marriage. Its pathetic domestic details can only come from life: Dylan took the record back to Minnesota with him for the Christmas holidays. Back in New York, hardboiled journalist Pete Hammill had written elegiac sleevenotes, which would later net him a Grammy. Columbia printed them up on iconically elegant covers, the front of which showed a solarised, side-on photo of Dylan in shades: The presses were ready to roll.
But Bob and brother David, listening to the sessions, convinced themselves at least half the tracks lacked some vital spark.
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