Daily Archives: August 14, 2021

Tim Van Schmidt

(Part 2 of a 3 Part Series)

I saw my first hippie in 1967 thanks to my dad.

Our family had moved from Illinois to Phoenix, Arizona and we went on the classic American road trip to explore the west station wagon, trailer, tents, and all.

When passing through San Francisco, my father announced we were going to take a drive to see what it is really like.

He was referring to the world of the hippies, a weird, wild, and hairy subculture, fueled on rock and roll and a robust hedonism that had become national news. So we drove our family station wagon right through the Haight Ashbury district known as the epicenter of the hippie phenomenon peering out the windows at the crazy urban hubbub outside.

My mothers window was down and all of a sudden, a real live hippie leaped off of the sidewalk and tried to hand her an underground newspaper he was promoting. My mom fairly well screamed, rolling up her window and locking her door. She hadnt taken the newspaper.

I ended up buying my first peace button later that day at Fishermans Wharf.

By 1969, the hippie culture was at its apex. It wasnt just a city street you could drive down; it was a massive juggernaut influencing style, music, media, and politics.

The Woodstock Music and Art Fair in Bethel, New York on August 15-18 52 years ago this week has become the symbol of that time, at least for the hippie culture.

A lot of that has to do with the success of the 1970 documentary that followed the event itself all you have to do is just say Woodstock to conjure up the legend of massive crowds of peaceniks jamming together in harmony thanks to that film.

The recent Hulu release, Summer of Soul, a documentary celebrating a series of concerts in Harlem in the summer of 1969, refers to that roster of events as The Black Woodstock. And that inspired me to go back and check out the original.

There is plenty of footage out there if you are interested in Woodstock lore including a 2019 TV documentary, Woodstock, Three Days That Defined a Generation. I opted to pull out a copy of the original 1970 documentary release, Woodstock, running at just over three hours. There is also an expanded directors cut version, Woodstock 3 Days of Peace & Music, clocking in at 4 hours plus.

I could fill the rest of this column with the musical magnitude of this movie. What can I do but name names Santana, Ten Years After, Jimi Hendrix, Richie Havens, The Who, Joe Cocker and so many more? Woodstock is a mighty documentary and reveals that the new music and the new culture of the hippies had grown to gargantuan proportions in 1969 much bigger than even the savviest businesspeople among them were ready for.

According to legend, attendees of the Woodstock festival overcame overwhelmed event infrastructure and volatile weather to come together to enjoy live music and each other without major incident, despite the crowds that made local residents feel they were being invaded.

But lets add that Woodstock was not the only rock festival happening in 1969. In fact, there were festivals happening all over the country Palm Springs, Toronto, Denver, Atlanta, Seattle, Vancouver, New Orleans, Miami all summer long. Woodstock just had all the right pieces in place especially copious amounts of professional-level film and sound to make it legendary.

1969 was also the year of the ill-fated Altamont festival held in December. After the euphoric high of Woodstock, its worth viewing Gimme Shelter, another documentary that helps reflect a different part of the hippie world in 1969, which wasnt so much about rainbows and unicorns.

Gimmer Shelter is a documentary following the Rolling Stones 1969 tour and their efforts to headline a free concert at the Altamont Speedway in California at the end of the year.

On paper, it sounds like a West Coast Woodstock Santana, The Rolling Stones, Grateful Dead, Jefferson Airplane, all playing for free to a massive crowd but it turns out to be everything Woodstock was not. Violence turns it ugly, injuring performers and killing at least one attendee not far from the stage.

Blame for it could be laid at the feet of the Hells Angels hired to do security by the stage. Unruly fans in the crowd could also be to blame. Whatever the cause, in this case, the stars did not align for a peaceful event and it provides a somber, reality check to the story of 1969, the year the hippies had declared their own nation.

Tim Van Schmidt is a writer and photographer based in Fort Collins. Check out his YouTube channel at Time Capsules by Tim Van Schmidt.

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1969: The Rise of Woodstock Nation - North Forty News

Cynthia Spencer, Countess Spencer

National Portrait Gallery / Wikimedia Commons

A pair of unique dancing purses that once held the lipstick and compact of Diana, Princess of Wales' grandmother, Countess Spencer, are up for auction in Cambridge.

The rare items, which are called 'ncessaires', would have been used by the Countess during dances and other social occasions. While one is made from 9ct gold and constructed in chain maille, the other is a gilt metal in a similar style, with both estimated to fetch 1,000-1,500.

A mesh style dance purse, owned by Cynthia, Countess Spencer

Cheffins

Explaining the significance of the sale, Steven Collins, Jewellery, Silver and Watches Specialist at Cheffins says: 'Since the Roaring Twenties many of the fine jewellers and fashion houses have produced delicate evening bags and vanity cases known as ncessaires. They were small, usually hard-sided boxes, often exquisitely decorated and designed to contain such things as a powder compact, lipstick, comb, mirror, note card and pencil. Some also had separate sections to hold book matches and individual cigarettes. These came about in the time of hedonism; air travel, cocktail parties, Hollywood and excitement and these became the new must-have item of any self-respecting lady of the time and typified the optimism and new found freedoms for women of the era.

'Ncessaires are rare to the auction market and are collected mainly by those who buy powder compacts and other dressing table items, or by followers of a certain jewellery maker from a certain period. The fine Art Deco varieties made of precious metals and with gemstones are very desirable, but often people here are collecting designs by the maker, rather than the item. The ultimate in desirability for these are from the mid-1920s, made by some of the biggest names of the period such as Cartier, Boucheron or Chaumet. With these items, its all about both maker and provenance. Anything with a royal or celebrity link will add to its cachet and can increase the value exponentially.'

The 7th Earl Spencer with Cynthia and their son Edward John Spencer at Eton College, 1937

Topical Press Agency / Hulton Archive / Getty Images

Born Cynthia Ellinor Beatrix Hamilton in 1897, she married Viscount Althorp in 1919, and became the then Queen Elizabeth's Lady of the Bedchamber in 1937. When the Queen's daughter, previously the Princess Elizabeth, ascended to the throne, Cynthia continued to work for the now Queen Mother, until her death.

Also in the sale is a purse that belonged to Diana's aunt, Lady Anne Spencer, emblazoned with 'Anne' and engraved with 'From household staff, Althorp, 4th August 1941', leading the auctioneers to speculate it was a 21st birthday present.

One of the dance purses to be sold at auction, owned by Lady Anne Spencer

Cheffins

Available at the Cheffins Jewellery, Silver and Watches Sale 26 August at Cheffins in Cambridge.

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Two dance purses that once belonged to Princess Diana's grandmother Countess Spencer are up for auction - Tatler

The Swinging Sixties was a momentous time for music and society as a whole. The only other period of time it can be linked to is the Roaring Twenties. The second decade of the twentieth century was an equally significant decade, one characterised by hope, hedonism and groundbreaking advancements in fashion and music. In fact, the 20s are most often referred to as the Jazz Age, which gives you a definitive flavour of the time.

Looping back to the initial point, though, on both sides of the Atlantic, the 60s characterised nothing short of a tectonic shift in society. Now known often disparagingly as the Baby Boomers, the young hopeful generation that spearheaded this wave were spurred on by technological advancements that allowed their ideas to be fully realised something that the libertines of the 20s were not duly afforded.

If you cast your mind back and pick out the key moments/icons of the 60s, you will see that the era is brimming with crucial historical moments and figures. The first man on the moon, Beatlemania, The British Invasion, Woodstock 69, the assassinations of both JFK and Martin Luther King, all whilst the spectres of the Vietnam and Cold Wars loomed large over it all.

The music soundtracked the events, just as the events informed the music. The Beatles came to embody the ethos of the generation with All You Need Is Love, and Jimi Hendrix pioneered electric guitar playing. However, as the decade was marred by varying degrees of struggle, there was a dark side to it all, from which music could not escape. If we shift our focus to the death of the Rolling Stones founder,Brian Jones, which was attributed to misadventure, therein lies our point.

A decade of pushing the boundaries of things thats limits hadnt yet been discovered, mainly drug abuse, the 60s paved the way for everything that followed, musically and otherwise. It is easy to categorise any event from the 60s into one of two camps, adventure or misadventure. Music and popular culture were indeed taken on a groundbreaking odyssey by groups such as The Rolling Stones, The Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, among others but suffered many casualties. If you note the members of the notorious 27 club, this rings true, Jones and Hendrix ranking among them.

Another of these casualties wasPink Floyds founder and guitarist, Syd Barrett. Not a member of the 27 club by a long shot, the shaggy-haired genius would still find himself on the receiving end of the decades more sinister side. He was nothing short of a tormented soul, whose experiments with LSD are widely signified to have pushed his fragile ideation over the edge. To get a flavour of it, one can dip into any point on the Floyds 1967 debut,The Piper at the Gates of Dawn, to heed this.

Embodying an early warning of the dangers of extensive drug abuse and the need for support of mental health issues,Syd Barretts departure from Pink Floyd in April 1968 is regarded as a significant point in the bands long career. The succession of guitarist and vocalist David Gilmour in December 1967 would take the band to unprecedented heights both commercially and artistically.

However, as this period was one of perpetual shoulder-rubbing, there was another iconic musician who was touted by Pink Floyd as Barretts natural successor. In 2005, drummer Nick Mason revealed all in his autobiographyInside Out: A Personal History of Pink Floyd.The rhythmic maestro recalled that the band wanted Jeff Beck to replace Barrett on guitar, but none of us had the nerve to ask him.

The thought of the virtuoso Beck in Pink Floyd is dizzying; as one of the most iconic guitarists du jour, this would have been a brilliant and exciting combination. However, given that Beck has always followed his own path, doubts have been cast on this combination working out, and the marriage of Pink Floyd with school friend David Gilmour is something that cannot be understated.

In fact, in a 2010 conversation with Alice Cooper,Beckweighed in on the situation. In the discussion, Cooper told Beck that the band were too afraid of asking him to join them, to which he replies, How incredible is that? I never even thought they would have given me the light of day. How strange.

Whilst the thought of Beck in Pink Floyd might get you excited, it is just one of many examples of the revolving doors of music in that raucous time. Beck would receive many such offers in his career, but that is a story for a different day.

Watch Jeff Beck discuss Pink Floyd, below.

See the article here:

The icon that Pink Floyd initially wanted to replace Syd Barrett - Far Out Magazine

On Saturday evening, with mud splattered up my legs and rain plopping into my can of San Miguel, bopping up and down to the spectral Apricots by the electronic duo Bicep, under a rainbow, I was struck by a sense of relief.

It was my overwhelming feeling at Wilderness my first festival in two years rather than the euphoria, anxiety, or trepidation that I had imagined, returning to that vivid, busy, unpredictable world.

Relief, that the crowds felt so safe and so normal; relief, that live arts are back with such fervour and joy; relief to be in nature, the safety of which we clung to those months when it was all we had left.

Wilderness began 10 years ago, in the sloping hills of Cornbury Park in Oxfordshire, and its Cotswold location, wonderland site (deer gallop in the fields, a tiny lake offers wild swimming and boating, late-night DJs host raves in a mystical tree-canopied valley) and boutique size and feel have a reputation for attracting the well-heeled.

Even with this weekends downpours, and after the pandemic hit pause on hedonism, this was still about as civilised as a festival might get a spa, fancy dress cricket, literary panels with as much emphasis on fine dining and wellness as on the music (the festival has its own orchestra).

The hottest tickets were a talk by Philip Pullman, at which drenched fans teemed out of the long round tent to hear him disparage the education system, and the rowdy sit-down banquets (I gave a standing ovation to chef Jay Morjaria after eating smoked brawn dumplings and kimchi and offal fried rice at the Flank Fire Feast).

A sense of communal delight and unity, sitting at long tables with strangers for the first time in years, was unexpectedly, almost spiritually, moving. For a friend of mine far more actively seeking enlightenment, that soul fulfilment came from daily paddleboard yoga, astrology sessions, wild swimming, intention-setting, and flower-crown weaving.

The music offered catharsis of a different kind no matter that Croydon rapper Loyle Carners beats are languid and pared-back nor that DJ and The xx frontman Jamie XX leaned on sparse samples, only breaking into climax at the very end (with his sirenic, looping hit gosh, to puffs of Technicolor smoke) it was a thrill to move in a crowd for the first time.

Northern Irish Bicep upstaged those headliners with exciting lightshows and juddering beats that could have taken us long into the night, while London electropop star Georgias energy was unmatched. She marvellously vanquished the torrential rain that diluted her audience, bashing drums alone on stage, conjuring menacing rhythm and cascading synths with her hit About Work the Dancefloor, hurling drumsticks into crowd like a rebel javelin thrower.

Lets sing loud enough so Kate can hear us she said, introducing her cover of Kate Bushs Running Up That Hill: aside from Rudimentals closing set, it was the closest the main stage audience came to a rousing chorus this was a line-upcurated for dancers.

Festivals have been one of the arts worlds greatest casualties in this pandemic: several postponed two years in a row, many more were called off last-minute due to insurance concerns, and others have had lineups thinned after acts were called to isolate.

Wilderness is only the second major festival, after Latitude, to get the green light (outside government pilot schemes) this year and for artists, organisers, and vendors it has been the hardest to pull together. That it went ahead, safely, and with such curiosity, mischief, confidence and heart was a triumph and a relief.

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Wilderness Festival 2021, review: What a joy and a relief it is to dance again - iNews

11/08/2021 - Bonifacio Angius returns to the Locarno Film Festival to present his latest, quirky feature film, painting a comical and decadent portrait of masculinity which is on the verge of implosion

Bonifacio Angius and Michele Manca in The Giants

Seven years after the success of Perfidia[+see also: trailerfilmprofile], Italian director Bonifacio Angius has once again been selected for the Locarno Film Festival, on this occasion the International Competition, where he is presenting his latest, surreal and ferociously independent feature film The Giants[+see also: trailerinterview: Bonifacio Angiusfilmprofile], signing his name to the movies direction, screenwriting, photography, editing and production. What distinguishes this most recent work of his is the freedom with which he tells the story, which is full of fury and anger but also tenderness, fragility, irony and dark humour. The Giants is an intense and unsettling film which explores the consequences of wanting (or having) to belong to the hegemonic male grouping, of having to renounce your own weaknesses in the name of privileges which would otherwise lie out of reach.

A get-together between old friends who share an excessive passion for artificial paradises, a deteriorating villa lost in the middle of the countryside, and an insatiable thirst for living in the present and momentarily forgetting the wounds of a past which hangs around their necks like a millstone: this, in short, is the world of The Giants. This diverse group of friends decides to spend what might be their last evening together in an atmosphere of unbridled hedonism: drugs, alcohol and dark, Nietzsche-style, pseudo philosophical discussions; an evening occasionally reminiscent of the bombastic world of La Grande Bouffe by Marco Ferreri (another director who made hegemonic masculinity his primary target) and the razor-sharp wit of Aki Kaurismki; an evening which will see masks fall to reveal real faces (or should we say grimaces) and inner worlds free from the constrictions of a society which values men above all else, real men who are untouchable and cold as ice. The Giants might be described as an ode to impotence; impotence of a social rather than a sexual kind, which drives the characters to reveal their own weaknesses and wounds, potentially for the first and last ever time; impotence which turns into a destructive but also a cathartic strength, no longer seen as a flaw to be cured via excessive doses of blue-coloured pills. With The Giants, Bonifacio Angius seems to want to confront us with a masculinity thats teetering on extinction, having fallen victim to its own sad privileges.

The films five characters, played with zest and realism by a cast of high calibre actors (Stefano Deffenu, Riccardo Bombagi, brothers Michele and Stefano Manca [alias Pino e gli Anticorpi] and the director himself), each have a singular way of approaching life: ignoring it after a first devastating disappointment in love, tackling it with abyss-like levels of anger, only indulging in its artificial side, thinking too much about it, or, contrarily, accepting its flaws. What unites the five friends, in spite of their clear differences (and drug dependency aside), is their inability to find an escape route or any kind of short cut which will allow them to escape the vicious circle of egoism and toxic masculinity. Cooped up in a villa which seems to imprison them within their own hallucinatory delusions, our five anti-heroes are no longer able (perhaps they never were able) of translating their anxiety into words. Instead, they become victims of it, bodies which are slowly consumed by the weight of emotions burning inside of them like a sacred fire. Despite philosophical ravings which sometimes border on pretentious, The Giants is a film which bravely reveals the darker side of giants who have been turned into monsters by society.

The Giants is produced by Il Monello Film (Italy) and is sold worldwide by Coccinelle Film Sales.

(Translated from Italian)

Continue reading here:

Review: The Giants - Cineuropa

Sorry mate, thats just way too long its felt like forever! Summer 2019 may seem like a decade ago but outdoor music action is back on the cards again and we cannot wait.

Newcomers to the festival scene Gateways took a nice cheeky gamble by not cancelling back in spring time and boy did it pay off. Every punter partied like it would be their last. Every band played like their lives were at stake we were all happy to be back and this is what we loved:

There must have been 30mm of precipitation during Ian Broudie and cos set but nobody cared. The poncho party was in full flow and those with wellies on were clearly very pleased with themselves. After a magical set which culminated with a trio of Sugar Coated Iceberg, The Life of Riley, and Pure, Broudie announced, We have time for one more any requests? Cue Three Lions and at which point Skipton became Bedlam and the festival climaxed.

From Echo Park to Aireville Park Feeder were mint although following Three Lions must have felt like Mission Impossible. Taka Hiroses prominent bass lines had the soaking wet crowd pogo sticking amongst a stunning North Yorkshire backdrop. Treats included Buck Rogers, Tallulah and the timeless lyrics of Im going out for a while, So I can get high with my friends. Feeder were very happy to be back.

Maths always comes into music and the toilet to crowd ratio is more important today than Pythagoras Theorem. I can honestly say that in almost 25 years of festivaling, never has it been so quick and easy to make room for some more lager. Literally zero queues a weak bladder heaven.

The Skipton Building Society award for Best Frontman went to Scouting For Girls Roy Stride. Stride chatted with the crowd freely and had the left half competing with the right half like it was an Olympic event. Killer single Elvis Aint Dead flowed into then out of Elvis Presleys Cant Help Falling In Love then later on the band raised serotonin levels with a majestic cover of Whitneys I Wanna Dance With Somebody. It was pure joy.

Big Stu was single handedly knocking out acoustic anthems whilst attractive females drank gin not a bad combo. Whats the difference between humans and animals? he asked us. This was not a science lesson but a cheeky intro to his rendition of The Bloodhound Gangs Bad Touch. Stu you were class pal. Sorry we had to leave but Razorlight were coming on.

Johnny Borrell and co proper smashed it. Armed with an inventory of anthems, Razorlight knocked out classics such as Stumble and Fall, Golden Touch, In The Morning, Somewhere Else, America, and Before I Fall To Pieces now that is some bag of tricks. They were beautiful and hedonism imploded; at least fifteen minutes of it felt like divine intervention. The only bad thing was it meant the end of the festival or did it...?

Just as you thought it was game over, the festival organisers had one last treat for us all a gunpowder plot that gave Sydney Harbour a run for its money. It was a captivating end to a successful maiden voyage for Gateways Festival. If you didnt think it was a belter then you deserve to wait another two years until your next fest.

Photo by Liam Atkinson

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7 Things We Loved About Gateways Festival 2021 Review - UK Festival Guides