Every year, the city of Great Falls is host to the largest Western art show on, well, the planet. Tomorrow I’m heading east over the Rocky Mountain Front to check it out for the first time.
Thoughts and impressions will be posted forthwith.
Category: Couch Art
Why We Like The Weird Stuff
Edward Hopper – Chair Car
A few years ago, during one of my in-law’s weekend visits, I noticed my father-in-law staring at the print of Edward Hopper’s “Chair Car” that I’d finally framed.
“There’s just something a little – off – about it isn’t there?” He made this observation with a smile that was part puzzled amusement, part honest curiosity. He was not being critical – he likes Hopper as much as I do. He and I spent the next few minutes trying to work out exactly what it was – about this painting in particular, and the rest of his work in general – that was off.
Was it the way he used light (or the lack of it) that often seems to give his scenes an eerie coldness? What is it about so many of his paintings that makes you feel an almost overwhelming loneliness? What is it that creates that emptiness that echoes off New York city rooftops, whispers through movie theaters, and hovers silently in Cape Cod back yards?
Not to mention, the biggest mystery, what is it about all of this eerie loneliness that we like so much?
We didn’t come to any firm conclusions that day, but our conversation stayed with me. Every time I saw a piece of art and thought, “Huh…that’s a little weird. But I like it!”, I thought about Hopper’s “Chair Car”, or his “House by the Railroad”, which, for no obvious reason, is so instantly menacing it gives me the shivers.
The first time I saw Andrea Kowch’s work it was so arresting I actually felt something like panic – in a good way. I simultaneously wanted to see everything she had ever created and had absolutely no idea what I was looking at.
Andrea Kowch – High Tide
Andrea Kowch – Dream Chaser
I mean – what the HECK?? Her work is so delightfully weird and just the right amount of creepy. It’s as is if Andrew Wyeth and L. Frank Baum (author of The Wizard of Oz) got together and had a little Goth baby – with a twist. But again, what is it about this weird offness that I like so much?
This past Winter I was listening to Bianca Bosker’s excellent book “Get the Picture” while running errands in town one day and had the thrilling experience of having a brain itch scratched in the best possible way when she explained why we like the weird stuff.
According to research from experimental psychologist Johan Wagemans, “Our perception of the world is only a prediction…shaped by our filters of expectation. And art…deliberately messes with those predictions. Artists create images that introduce incongruities…defy our expectations. Artists introduce unfamiliar experiences in an otherwise completely familiar setting…we’re drawn to artwork that subtly deviates from our predictions of the world.”
When I heard those words, I had to pull over on the not quite adequate shoulder, rewind, and listen to them again. That was it. Exactly. It explains why Hopper’s chair car looks more like some kind of Soviet bunker than East Coast public transportation, or why I find Andrew Wyeth’s work so bleak and comforting at the same time. It was such a thrilling moment I would have leaped out of the car and danced around a bit if not for the icy road and blind corner I was perched on.
Since then, it has been a new and wonderful process to appreciate the art that grabs me with that framework of understanding. Not everything I like is weird and creepy, but it’s nice to know that lusting after Andrea Kowch prints is not a sign of aberrant behavior. It’s just science.
A Pre-Concert Review
Tomorrow evening, my husband and I, along with some friends, are going to the Big Sky Brewing Co. Amphitheater in Missoula to see Dwight Yoakam and The Mavericks. It’s going to be about 200 degrees, there won’t be a stick of shade, and I could not be more excited.
I’ve seen both performers before when I lived in San Diego. Yoakam at the Del Mar Fair, and The Mavericks at 4th and B, but those shows were years (and I mean years) ago. I think my recollection of the two concerts can be directly connected to how much I liked both artists at the time. The Mavericks were amazing. However, I remember exactly nothing about Dwight’s show.
I have always loved The Mavericks. From their early “What a Cryin Shame” days to their more recent work, including their 2020 album which is sung entirely in Spanish. I once read a review of one of their albums in which the reviewer described lead singer Raul Malo’s voice as “Jalapeno and Honey”. I don’t think I could come up with a better description if I spent 100 years thinking about it. And it only makes sense, seeing as how Malo is Cuban, and that Latin influence is heard and – felt – in almost everything The Mavericks produce. “Dance The Night Away” is a masterpiece, a song I never get tired of hearing, and a classic example of how they incorporate that Latin sound. I mean…those horns!
The Mavericks, as their name suggests, have always been impossible to categorize, musically, and I think that has been one of the reasons they’ve consistently been among my favorites.
On the other hand, with Dwight Yoakam, there was a time when not only was he not a favorite, I didn’t even like him. He was too twangy, too nasal, too…all of the other reasons some people don’t care for his music. And then one day my friend Autumn, a huge Dwight fan, told me I needed to get the new Dwight Yoakam album (Tomorrow’s Sounds Today) because “You appreciate excellent music.”
Well. I couldn’t allow such a fine opinion go to waste, so I bought the CD, just to see what all the fuss was about, and it was that album, and in particular, this song that converted me – hard.
The thing about Dwight Yoakam that I never appreciated until I really started to pay attention is that his ability as a songwriter is on par with Dylan, Young, Prine, and any of the other “Masters” you can name. Take the lyrics for “Time Spent Missing You”:
“The nighttime gets longer each morning I wake up
With sunlight that’s long overdue
I start making plans for having thoughts that might take up
Some of the time that I’ll spend missing you
Winters come a crawling after fall left me calling
For an end to what spring put me through
Summers only blessing had been the warm breeze caressing
All the time that I spent missing you
Minutes of misery drag through hours of memories
Past a voice that swears they’re not true
It keeps avoiding, denying though but mostly just lying
About the time that I’ll spend missing you”
How great is that?
Or how about “The Distance Between You and Me”?
“Take a rock, tie a rope
Throw it down in the sea
Let it fall to the bottom
Nobody knows how deep
Stare real hard through the water
And you might just perceive
The distance between you and me
Yeah, the distance between you and me
Take a map of the world
And measure with your hands
All of the miles
Across all of the land
Write it down, add it up
And you might understand
About the distance between you and me
Yeah, the distance between you and me
I lie awake and hear you breathing
Only inches from me in this bed
Not much space but it’s all that we needed
To live alone now that our love is dead
I lie awake and hear you breathing
Only inches from me in this bed
Not much space but it’s all that we needed
To live alone now that our love is dead
Climb the earth’s tallest mountain
To where it reaches the sky
Take a gun fire a bullet
Straight up out of sight
Where it stops in the heavens
Well that ain’t half as high
As the distance between you and me
As the distance between you and me”
Once I started appreciating his songwriting skills, it didn’t take long for me to also start enjoying the music. Suddenly, I liked the twang and the “Bakersfield Sound” that he has perfected. The pure, undistilled, honky tonk heaven that is “Turn It On, Turn It Up, Turn It Loose” has become one of my favorite songs – of all time. He has also done some incredible covers – “Let’s Work Together” (Canned Heat), “I Want You to Want Me” (Cheap Trick), and “Sloop John B” (Beach Boys), just to name a few.
So, it’s a two-hour drive, it will be very people-y (not a huge fan of crowds), and I’ll probably get burnt to a crisp, but getting to experience these two fantastic acts again? Totally worth it.
Exceptional Covers of Exceptional Songs
First, I need to apologize to any Bob Dylan fans out there. I know he’s amazing, and a genius, and his songwriting prowess is rarely surpassed. However, I’ve discovered that I only seem to like his songs when other people cover them. When their superior voices sing his superior lyrics, it feels like we finally get to meet those superior melodies.
For instance, when singer/songwriter Adam Simons lends his beautiful and aching voice to “Tomorrow is a Long Time” on his new album “Songbook”, it allows Dylan’s creative brilliance to beam like the sun.
Simons covers The Rolling Stones (Dead Flowers), The Grateful Dead (Friend of the Devil), Van Morrison (Into the Mystic), among other legendary heavy hitters. His rendition of Neil Young’s “Unknown Legend” is so – sad – and gorgeous that I can’t even listen to it with my eyes open.
I know some people are not crazy about cover songs; they object on principle. I get that. I can respect that kind of devotion to a beloved artist or group. I generally find covers entertaining at the very least and occasionally, at best, life altering.
You might think I’m exaggerating, but it’s the truth. The first time I heard “When You Say Nothing At All”, Alison Krauss’ version of Keith Whitley’s song, not only did it instantly convert me into a life-long Country, Bluegrass, and Americana fan, but it placed Krauss in my “#1 Favorite Artist of All Time” spot where she has remained for 30 years.
A couple years ago I was watching a Netflix documentary about Ella Fitzgerald called “Ella: It’s Just One of Those Things”. In it they played a clip from her 1960 Berlin performance of “Mack the Knife”, which was completely improvised, completely incredible, and left me completely speechless. She won a Grammy for that performance, and it is obvious why. Do yourself a favor and Google it…if it doesn’t leave you a changed being, you may want to check your pulse.
Sometimes, comparing covers with originals is just – interesting – apples and oranges. Take “Hound Dog”. I don’t think it’s a stretch to assume that Elvis’ rendition is a universally loved classic, but have you ever heard Big Mama Thornton’s original? Well, I don’t want to be bossy, however, you might want to check it out.
This by no means exhausts my thoughts on cover songs, but I’ll leave it there for now. What are some of your favorites?