Week 12

Howlin' Wolf - How Many More Years

"What is the blues? When you ain't got no money, you got the blues. When you ain't got no money to pay your house with, you still got the blues... If you ain't got no money you got the blues, cause you thinkin' evil. Every time you thinkin' evil you got the blues."

Lyrics:

How many more years?
Have I got to let you dog me around
How many more years?
Oh, I got to let you dog me around
I'd soon rather be dead
Sleeping six feet in the ground

I'm gonna fall on my knees
I'm gonna raise up my right hand
I'm gonna fall on my knees
I'm gonna raise up my right hand
Say, I'd feel much better, darlin'
If you'd just only understand

I'm goin' upstairs
I'm gonna bring back down my clothes
I'm goin' upstairs
I'm gonna bring back down my clothes, do them all
If anybody ask about me
Just tell 'em I walked out on


Since we are exploring the blues this week, I wanted to explore the color. 

Week 10: Woody Guthrie

I really admire Woody Guthrie's take on his music, and I believe there should be more people like him especially in the current music industry. A lot of songs nowadays focus on being thin, being perfect, being up to society's standards in appearance and materialism. These qualities are often impossible for the regular person. Songs often ask for girls to be looser, to not be a prude -- but if they're too slutty, that's also bad. Songs often asks guys to be this one dimensional masculine figure, getting all the girls and being fit. These are not realistic. These are not the things that are important in creating a healthy outlook on life. This over saturation of what we're supposed to be overpowers what we are actually like, which is why I really appreciate how Woody Guthrie words his sentiments:

"I hate a song that makes you think that you're not any good. I hate a song that makes you think you are just born to lose. No good to nobody. No good for nothing. Because you are either too old or too young or too fat or too slim or too ugly or too this or too that. Songs that run you down r songs that poke fun at you on account of your bad luck or hard traveling."

"I am out to sing songs that will prove to you that this is your world...I am out to sing the songs that make you take pride in yourself and in your work."

"Woody, being an excellent journalist, described not a world as it might be but as it was." Woody was more of a realist than a dreamer, and I think that is part of his charm. His music and lyrics show people that it's totally fine for them to be struggling, to be living this truthful life. He does not put people down for what they're going through and he doesn't idealize a certain type of person. Everyone is equal and should have the opportunity to blossom in their own right.

For this week I chose Guthrie's This Land is Your Land. It was a song I grew up singing in elementary school, and I really liked the simple tune of the song. Since it was such an important song in my primary school days, I wanted to convey that simple, childlike sense into the artwork. I also wanted to show a sense of constancy/universality -- how although the buildings and areas of the world have their own quality, their own shape, they are all represented with the same thin black line. Through all the differences, we are all inherently of the same strokes, just in a different order.

Project 7: Louis Collins

Lyrics:

Mrs. Collins weeped, Mrs. Collins moaned,
To see her son Louis leavin' home
The angels laid him away
The angels laid him away,
They laid him six feet under the clay
The angels laid him away

Mrs. Collins weeped, Mrs. Collins moaned,
To see her son Louis leavin' home
The angels laid him away
Oh, Bob shot once and Louis shot too,
Shot poor Collins, shot him through and through
The angels laid him away

Oh, kind friends, oh, ain't it hard?
To see poor Louis in a new graveyard
The angels laid him away
The angels laid him away,
They laid him six feet under the clay
The angels laid him away

Oh, when they heard that Louis was dead
All the people they dressed in red
The angels laid him away
The angels laid him away,
They laid him six feet under the clay
The angels laid him away

Mrs. Collins weeped, Mrs. Collins moaned,
To see her son Louis leavin' home
The angels laid him away
The angels laid him away,
They laid him six feet under the clay
The angels laid him away

This song is very interesting -- I enjoyed the lyrics. Mrs. Collins stood by idly, weeping and moaning, as her own son was leavin' home when the angels laid him away. There was nothing she could do but watch. The way the song is sung and the fact that the angels "laid him away," as opposed to buried him or took him, emphasizes a slow progression of events. It sounds peaceful because no one really protests the facts; things just happen and people can't fight it.
I kind of see myself as Mrs. Collins, in some strange way. I used my art this week as a sort of release for my frustrations and I am happy with what came out of it. Not sure if I completely love the text, so I left it in a temporary manner.

I quite enjoyed Jas Olbrecht's biography on Mississippi John Hurt. It painted him in a very bright light -- he came from humble beginnings, working on the farm and helping his mother in a small town of under 100 people. He worked very hard on his own family farm, and also offered his services on neighboring farms. I had just learned about the WPA in another class, so it is interesting to see the overlap between that class and this class. It was interesting that Jas mentioned that Hurt's music is a souvenir of his childhood. It is an interesting idea -- that we never forget our childhood; in those formative years, we learn so much about ourselves and the people around us shape who we become. John Hurt grew up in a rural area, helping people, starting from the ground up and earning his way to the top. He was also described as "perfect" and "Christ-like"; somehow I believe that is related to his childhood experiences, helping others and perfecting his craft when he had time.

Project 6: Down By the Salley Gardens

Lyrics:

Oh down by the Salley Gardens, my love and I did meet.
She passed the Salley Gardens, with little snow-white feet.
She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree,
But I being young and foolish, with her I did not agree.

In a field down by the river, my love and I did stand
An on my leaning shoulder, she placed her snow-white hand.
She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree,
But I being young and foolish, and now I am full of tears.

Oh down by the Salley Gardens, my love and I did meet.
She passed the Salley Gardens, with little snow-white feet.
She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree,
But I being young and foolish, with her I did not agree.


I find it very interesting that this ballad, like all other folk songs, traveled by mouth and therefore deviated from the original source. The original source is William Butler Yeats' poem with the same title. However, upon further research, I found that Yeats had based his writings on what he remembered from another song that an old lady sang in a village. Yeats had originally named his poem: "An Old Song Re-Sung." But this begs the question of where that old lady got it from -- had she written it? Or had she learned it from her father, friend, just by chance? This got me thinking about if ideas are ever really new -- when ideas come to us, inspiration for that had probably come from something else. There must be a source, but how do we know exactly what that source is? In today's world, especially, we are already surrounded by so many types of media, technologies, sounds and sights; how do we know if an idea is truly ours? Our "new" ideas are a combination of what we already know and our current worldview, facts and pre-existing ideas lightly filtered through our own minds. Intellectual property and intellectual copyright is very hard to pinpoint and justify, if it can be pinpointed at all.

I appreciated that the reading (Mike Yates on Cecil Sharp) created a sort of a timeline or diary, if you will; I found it much easier to understand the course of events. It is very impressive that Cecil took on such a big project, almost by himself, getting sponsorships, getting sick, yet still continuing on his mission. Just the passion behind that is monumental, but his contribution to American music is even greater. One of the lines that caught my attention was: "the cult of singing traditional songs is far more alive than it is in England." In today's context, cult immediately brings up cult films and cult TV shows with strong fan bases and followings. Cult is a strong word, but also fitting for the tight group of musicians from the Appalachians who preserved these traditional songs. I also thought the age gap between the English versus American singers was interesting -- in England, the singers were elderly, while American singers could have been as young as 15. Perhaps this was one of the reasons that the tradition was more "alive" in America.

Project 5: Can the Circle Be Unbroken

Lyrics:
(The Carter Family / Clarence Ashley & Doc Watson)

I was standing by my window

On one cold and cloudy day

And I saw the hearse come rolling

For to carry my mother away

Can the circle be unbroken

Bye and bye, Lord, bye and bye

There's a better home a-waiting

In the sky, Lord, in the sky

Oh, I told the undertaker

Undertaker, please drive slow

For this body you are hauling

How I hate to see her go

Can the circle be unbroken

Bye and bye, Lord, bye and bye

There's a better home a-waiting

In the sky, Lord, in the sky

I followed close beside her

Tried to hold up and be brave

But I could not hide my sorrow

When they laid her in the grave

Can the circle be unbroken

Bye and bye, Lord, bye and bye

There's a better home a-waiting

In the sky, Lord, in the sky

Went back home Lord, my home was lonesome
missed my mother she was gone
all my brothers, sisters cry in'
What a home so sad and lone

Can the circle be unbroken

Bye and bye, Lord, bye and bye

There's a better home a-waiting

In the sky, Lord, in the sky

I found the Carter Family's version of the song very interesting because it has an upbeat tempo to convey a song about death (and potential rebirth or life in heaven). It almost makes me forget about the content of the song and encourages me to hum along with a happy tune. This reminded me of Adorno's writings about popular music -- popular music distracts listeners from the realities and responsibilities of their own lives and gives them a temporary (and false) sense of happiness or relaxation. It seems the core of the song is showing that despite the death, she will be going to a better place in the sky -- the hope outweighs the sadness.
However, Clarence Ashley and Doc Watson's version slows down the tempo, making the song more emotional. It sounds somewhat like a plea, asking the Lord if the circle will be unbroken and grasping at the idea that "There's a better home a-waiting/in the sky." The careful layering of deeper voices makes the song seem more haunting and dramatic -- sounds like people are personally affected by the death of the mother. In this version, it seems sadness is more prevalent than hope.

For this project, I responded more to Clarence Ashley and Doc Watson's version of the song. I wanted to explore a darker and more illustrative side -- something very Supernatural-esque. I added a woman in white to represent the spirit of the mother, since I've always been intrigued by that myth and it's countless versions.

Project 3: My Desire

Lyrics:

It's my desire to do some good thing every day.
It's my desire to help the fallen by the way.
Oh, it's my desire to bring back those who've gone astray.
It's my desire, oh, to be like the Lord.

It's my desire to bring someone drunk to the fold.
It's my desire to shelter someone from the cold.
It's my desire to do thy will, Lord, as I am told.
It's my desire, oh, Lord, to be like my Lord.

Yes, It's my desire, to see His face when life is done.
It's my desire to meet the Father, yes and the Son.
It's my desire to hear Him say, "My Child, well done."
It's my desire, oh, Hallelujah, to be like the Lord.

I chose the song "My Desire" by Delois Barrett Campbell, and upon hearing it, I imagined the performer standing in front of a stained glass window. For this project, I decided to expand my color palette and to see if I could still create a unified piece by using virtually every color of the rainbow. Still using a 6x8" canvas board, I wanted to try to illustrate something that was much bigger than its physical size. 

I contemplated filling in the two large circles outlined in green with either more colors or perhaps a human portrait or figure (perhaps Paul Walker or my mother, people I look up to who have embodied the seemingly perfect "good" that I want to be). In the end, I decided against it because I felt that would go with the lyrics more -- no matter how many good deeds you perform, there's always a desire to do something greater. At whatever stage, there are still so many pieces of one's life that haven't been filled in yet. There's always something more that can be done, to make your or perhaps someone else's life more colorful. 

Project 2: You Are My Sunshine

Lyrics:

The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping
I dreamed I held you in my arms
When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken,
And I hung my head and cried.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray
You'll never know, dear, how much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away.

I'll always love you and make you happy
If you will only say the same
But if you leave me and love another
You'll regret it all someday.

You told me once, dear, you really loved me
And no one could come between
But now you've left me to love another
You have shattered all of my dreams.

For this project, I worked with oil color on canvas board (6x8"). I wanted to experiment more with color, so I only used French Ultramarine, Cadmium Red and Cadmium Yellow. With this piece, I wanted to convey emotion, both with the subject and the colors. It's called "You Were My Sunshine."
My jumping off point was the emotion I got from listening to the song -- a longing, a sadness. I took lyrics that hit me the hardest, and illustrated them through a single figure. Originally, I wanted to utilize a monochrome palette, using only shades of indigo to convey that sadness. However, I thought it would be more dynamic if I added the yellow to represent the sunshine. I wanted to show that the sunshine was fading, and it was only touching him on the slightest of spots. The sunshine does not reach where his heart or his face are, and I think that could show that his sunshine has gone away and shattered all his dreams.

Project 1: Down in the Valley

Lyrics:

Down in the valley, the valley so low
Hang your head over, hear the wind blow
Hear the wind blow, dear, hear the wind blow
Hang your head over, hear the wind blow

Write me a letter, send it by mail
Send it in care of Birmingham jail...
Birmingham jail, love, Birmingham jail
Send it in care of Birmingham jail

If you don't love me, love whom you please
Throw your arms 'round me, give my heart ease....
Give my heart ease, love, give my heart ease
Throw your arms 'round me, give my heart ease.

Build me a castle, 40 foot high
So I can see you, as you go by
As you go by love, as you go by
So I can see you, as you go by

I chose to create a work that had both personal meaning and also possibly meaning to the viewer as well. The valley that most naturally came to mind was Castro Valley, where I was born; as a result, I decided to use the city's outline as the starting point of the piece. Having not grown up in Castro Valley, I did not have any particular idea as to which direction to take -- so I googled "Castro Valley 1994," the year I was born. Article after article highlighted a tragic story of a young girl. I thought candles would be suitable, to serve as a sort of vigil for the young girl.

Giving the symbol some more thought, I realized candles could also represent a birthday. Blown out candles ("Hear the wind blow") could hold even more meaning: the passage of time, death, or the loss of something that used to burn bright. This would give it the personal meaning that I wanted to convey through the piece -- "Down in the Valley" is the only song I remember how to play on the piano, an instrument that I abandoned just as I approached my teen years. Looking back, I regret not continuing with lessons, but somehow I always go back to it leisurely every now and then, sitting down to play for a couple minutes. Just as candles may not last forever, but the smoke lingers there, if not forever, then at least for a little while.