MICHAEL McCLURE at the LONDON REVIEW BOOKSHOP

Not many could stand next to Bob Dylan in 1965 and equal his cool but Harley riding, Hell’s Angels associating, long haired, unfeasibly handsome, poet and playwright Michael McClure could - and did - as illustrated in Larry Keenan’s photograph. And his rock ‘n’ roll credentials didn’t end there.

McClure was in London last week to read from his new collection Mysteriosos. One of the last remaining lights of what we now call the Beat Generation, McClure’s first poetry reading was at the most famous – and influential – poetry reading of the 20th century: the Six Gallery reading in San Francisco during October 1955. Jack Kerouac, in the audience and too shy to read, acted as rebel rouser shouting drunken encouragement and later wrote of events in The Dharma Bums (and also wrote McClure as Pat McLear in Big Sur). Ginsberg’s reading of “Howl” lit the fuse for a nationwide hoo hah but the event and contributions from McClure, Gary Synder, Philip Whalen and Philip Lamantia marked the arrival of the San Francisco Renaissance era of The Beats and gave it momentum to become a discernable movement.

At the Six Gallery McClure read “For The Death of 100 Whales” and his interest in nature, ecology, the environment, biology and science has infused his work ever since. He only read from Mysteriosos in London and answered a few (three to be precise) questions. I wanted to ask about his influence on his friend Jim Morrison (and vice versa) but only gingerly waved a limp wrist and the moment was lost. One questioner asked if he still saw the benefits of psychedelics as an aid to consciousness expanding. Not only did he unequivocally concur but he railed against those careerists who privately agree but publicly stay schtum.

Any mild disappointment in the absence of further questioning or readings were banished with the debut capital screening of Abstract Alchemist of Flesh, a new film about McClure by Colin Still. Still was there to introduce it and over 55 minutes blends archive footage with new interviews with McClure and some high profile names, notably Dennis Hopper and Ray Manzarek.

We see McClure reading to Manzarek’s unmistakable Doorsy “Riders on the Storm” keyboard. His texts can be difficult to absorb and comprehend on the page, yet performed in this way it gives them rhythm and you can naturally absorb parts without trying too hard to understand the meaning of each line. Both in the film and during the reading McClure is prone to reciting haikus then pulling an expression that says “Yeah? Think about it”, a tilt of the head, a raised eyebrow, a knowing look, “you get it right? Sure.” Nope. Sorry, haven’t a Scooby.

My planned question is partly answered by the Manzarek collaborations. There’s more than a touch of Morrison in these – or rather there was more than a touch of McClure in Morrison. There’s a great mid-60s clip of McClure roaring his poems to lions at San Francisco zoo. Those lions were no fans of performance poetry. The thousands of bare footed hippy flower wavers at the Human Be-In in Golden Gate Park somewhat more appreciative.

Notoriety came a-knocking during 1966-68 with the production of his play The Beard. Charges of lewd conduct and obscenity dogged its performances, including a run of fourteen nights when the cast were arrested each time. Dennis Hopper tells how the pair were sitting in a bar when one disgruntled theatre goer - not keen on seeing Billy The Kid go down on Jean Harlow - punched McClure in the face. According to McClure, Hopper didn’t need much encouragement to jump off a table to practice his newly acquired karate skills before (in Hopper’s words) McClure “beat the shit out of him”. Peace and love man, peace and love.

In 1970 he wrote “Mercedes Benz” with Janis Joplin and Bob Neuwirth which Joplin recorded three days before she died. Michael continues to publish and perform.

Mysteriosos by Michael McClure is published by New Directions Press.
Abstract Alchemist of Flesh is released by Optic Nerve (www.opticnerve.co.uk)

THE DOORS – WHEN YOU’RE STRANGE at the IDEA GENERATION GALLERY

Like a lot of spotty pretentious youths without a girlfriend I was a big fan of The Doors. It’s been so long since I’ve listened to them I don’t know if I still am but back in those strange days between school and work they were my band of choice. I spent my first wages - from stocking freezers in Bejam - in HMV and brought home new albums regularly until Ma Monkey started the “why do you need more records?” line of interrogation. I distinctly remember smuggling L.A. Woman into the house stuffed under my bomber jacket.

Joel Brodsky’s picture of bare chested, lion headed, Morrison would be the one every dope spluttering, curtain haired student supposedly stuck to their wall, my preference – having never, as you can tell, been a student – was for the photo inside the gatefold of Morrison Hotel. All four Doors in a rough blue collar bar nursing Budweisers and tired looks surrounded by neighbourhood barflies. They look a band that for all their poetic and classical leanings were just as comfortable watching sport and the shooting the shit with drunks and Joes. I was jealous of those drinkers. Imagine The Doors wandering in your local for a beer. Years later I would sport a sheepskin jacket almost identical to Jimbo’s, no-one ever spotted the connection but at least I resisted the leather strides.

This exhibition coincides with the release of When You’re Strange – a new documentary on the band – and features photographs by Brodsky, Henry Diltz, Bobby Klein and Ken Regan. Brodsky’s famous picture and variations of the album sleeves he made are here, as are Diltz’s Morrison Hotel shots including contact sheets and previously unseen photos from that day. Klein has a series from their earlier less grizzled (and slimmer) days and Regan snaps them in concert. The press release talks of an “intimate look” and “private moments”. That’s stretching the truth as most – barring Morrison and Pamela Courson gazing lovingly - are from choreographed photo sessions and live performances but they take a good picture.

If you’ve a couple of grand spare you can buy one. Me, I’m off to pull a few old albums from the shelf.

The Doors – When You’re Strange is at the Idea Generation Gallery, 11 Chance Street, Bethnal Green, London E2 until 27 August 2010, admission free. The film of the same name is out on DVD in August.

BEAT SCENE ISSUE 62

Charles Bukowski may be the cover star of the Beat Scene 62 but it’s the new nine page interview with Carolyn Cassady that steals the issue for me. She’s written and spoken many times about her husband Neal Cassady and lover Jack Kerouac but I’m never less than fascinated by their relationship. I still can’t grasp the hold Neal had over people – Carolyn in particular. Even his portrayal in On The Road isn’t flattering: a con-man and a rat who abandons a sick Jack in Mexico; and that’s without the bigamy and constant philandering she had to deal with. Maybe she was hip and I’m squarer than I’d care to admit.

Continuing the spouses theme, Richard Brautigan’s first wife Virginia Aste is also interviewed. There’s a good article about Kerouac and his time in Detroit with his first wife Edie Parker (who Carolyn memorably refers to as a weirdo and a nut case). Bukowski gets his coverage - reviews and extracts from a couple of newish books. Dan Fante writes about his father, John Fante, and fellow writers blacklisted by Hollywood during the 40s.

Loads of other stuff as usual within its 64 advert-free pages. Four pounds stirling.

www.beatscene.net

THE SCHOOL - LOVELESS UNBELIEVER

Howdy pop pickers. I've reviewed this album over at Electric Roulette and Modculture. Rather than repeat it again, here's the video to the opening track "Let It Slip".

Loveless Unbeliever by The School is released on Elefant Records.

SIR PETER BLAKE IN CONVERSATION at the VICTORIA AND ALBERT MUSEUM

In a prolific career stretching back over fifty years Sir Peter Blake is known for one piece of artwork and design more than any other. It’s the most famous album sleeve of all time, housing a reasonable record, and although it’s become an irritation to the man there’s no escaping the name Peter Blake will always be synonymous with The Who’s 1981 Face Dances.

He will come to that, but first he recounts how he studied – initially more by chance and on a hunch than any predetermined plan - painting and design at Gravesend Technical College and then the Royal College of Art during the 40s and 50s and how both disciplines have shaped his career. He was told he’d never make a career as a painter so also took design classes and the main focus of his talk, lasting over an hour, is his design work to coincide with the forthcoming publication of Design, a retrospective by Brian Webb and Peyton Skipwith. It is Brian Webb steering the questions giving the talk structure with a selection of images. Having seen a few talks at the V&A they can suffer from a poorly prepared questioner or a reluctant interviewee – neither is the case here. Webb knows his onions and Blake is an engaging speaker with anecdotes tumbling forth with only time restraints trimming his answers.

Self Portrait with Badges (1961), one of his most recognisable earlier paintings remains one of his – and my – favourites. The references to popular culture that make him the poppiest of the pop artists are clearly in evidence but without the nostalgic romanticism that came later. Webb remarks on his lack of angst and Blake explains artists have different incentives to create art: some for political reasons, some to show loss or mourning, his aim is to celebrate, “although I can do angst if you want”.

There is no reference to The First Real Target (1961) but Babe Rainbow (1968) and her growing family is joyfully covered. Watch out for future offspring.

There’s a section about his record sleeves which includes Face Dances, the “”Do They Know It’s Christmas?” single, surprisingly no mention of Stanley Road, but a fair bit on Oasis’s Stop The Clocks compilation. He’d originally produced an adaption of the Granny Takes A Trip shop front but ended with a photograph of items from his studio that Noel Gallagher liked the look of. He’d slyly hoped myths might develop about the significance of the items used but was disappointed when none did. Don’t worry Pete, I’d take that more as a reflection on the lack of interest in Oasis than you. The doll in the blue dress however was used in the garden part of Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.

Oh yeah, Sgt Pepper. He doesn’t much want to talk about his “albatross” but both he and Webb know he can’t escape that easily, so he does. He tells about the making of it but wishes he’d done Pet Sounds instead. On his way today someone stuffed Pepper in front of him to sign and nowadays he charges ten quid to do it which he gives to a children’s charity. The previous week during one day alone he’d raised £1200. You can see the relief when the topic changes.

It’s interesting to hear him talk about working once a week on a computer (“a seventh of my time” which shows how busy he is) and how he could knock up a whole show in one day if he felt like it and that one design might only take him half an hour. Yet that balances against “fine art” commissions from St Paul’s Cathedral which could take a couple of years to complete.

After Webb rounds things up to the present day with the new book jackets for Penguin and a Glastonbury poster he offers the audience the chance to ask a few questions, “but not about Sgt. Pepper” adds Blake to everyone’s amusement. Yes, over there, first question. “I wanted to ask you about Sgt. Pepper…”

Peter Blake Design by Peyton Skipwith and Brian Webb will be published by Antique Collectors’ Club in November 2010, priced £12.50

MODERN TOSS: MONKEY PORTRAIT

After earlier plugs for Modern Toss this week it was an honour last night to be drawn by one half of the Tossers, Mick Bunnage. Looking at some of the other portraits I got off pretty lightly.

The exhibition near Brick Lane is extended another week until 11th July. Get down there if you can.

More at moderntoss.

IGGY POP - SIXTEEN

Here's that geezer off those telly adverts. No, not Michael Winner, Iggy Pop.