The other night I played a show in Barcelona (May 15) at Helioglobal. I have never been to Barcelona and have been anticipating going there the whole trip (it’s the only place I haven’t been before, well now I have) and I can say that the people there are very into music (something I already knew because they have Primavera festival there each year, a music festival). I was asked by a man named Ruben to play the show. He has a blog and a zine called Shookdown Underzine and I wrote a piece about Olympia for their first issue that came out last year. It was amazing to finally meet him in person and to talk about promising projects in the future. I am planning on writing for them again and having Aida, the woman I stayed with who is a music journalist, translate it for me. I also have been thinking about writing a song in Spanish and going to Barcelona basically put the cherry on top of that idea. Aida told me she would help me translate some of the English lyrics I have, but I already know basic Spanish and will try to write most of it myself. Compared to the audiences in France, the people in Barcelona were more attentive to my music and really listened to the lyrics. That’s not to say that people in Paris weren’t listening, there were handfuls of people absorbed in the show, but in general there was more chatter going on during my set and the other bands set. Laura, a new friend I made in Paris, told me she was annoyed the last time she saw a very famous folk singer play and everyone was talking. The singer stopped mid song and asked the audience if they wanted to sing instead since they were talking so much. I thought that was a funny reaction and can see why a performer would do that. Sometimes on stage when people are talking during my set and I can hear them it triggers me to have a more aggressive performance. I can either go two ways while performing: vulnerable, open, and letting you in to the emotions I am trying to paint with my lyrics or aggressive, combative, intense, and using my voice as as tool to be louder than the audience ( I can sing very loud ). When I feel like I am being challenged by the audience I feel like I need to do things that make them pay attention and that is why I will get more aggressive and theatrical, people stop and wonder what is going on, a weird but useful method I have had to use a few times while performing. I am trying to find a balance between the two so that eventually I will become stronger at putting up a wall and just play my songs without thinking about the audience. It’s interesting performing in different cities and having locals ask me questions about Olympia and to hear what they know about the city. Most of them mention riot grrrl or Nirvana.
On Saturday (May 9) I arrived in France from Germany via airplane. I hadn’t slept much the night before in Berlin and should have napped when I got to my hotel in Paris, but the excitement (and noise) from outside my window was beckoning me to be apart of it. I had been invited to go to an art exhibit at Le Point Éphémère by Erwan, a man who set up a show for me on May 13 at Le Pop In. He met me at my hotel and we took the metro to the gallery. I realized when getting to the location that I had played there last time I was in Paris. I didn’t realize the area was also used for art exhibits. On Sunday (May 10) I woke up and went immediately to Père Lachaise Cemetery. I needed to see Jim Morrison’s grave as part of my project and a friend of mine had hidden a note for me to find across the lane from Jim’s grave. First I had some overpriced breakfast next door to my hotel because it was convenient. I ordered a waffle with an arrangement of fruit, whipped cream, and some Earl Grey tea. At the gallery the night before a French woman told me that this was the most beautiful time of the year in Paris and a great time to get lost in the city. When I left I the restaurant I didn’t know where I was going at first, I had general directions to just walk down Avenue de Repulic and Pere Lachaise Cemetery would be at the end and you would see it. Problem was, all of a sudden I was on a random street I didn’t know. I have no cell phone service unless I am at the hotel so there was no chance of me looking it up. I have a pretty good sense of direction and listened to where my intuition wanted to steer me. I kept walking and eventually saw a sign that said “Pere Lachaise Cemetery”. I found Jim Morrison’s grave which is located in section 6, grave #30. There were a bunch of people hovering around the gate surrounding his grave (to keep people from going physically up to it, I guess people do weird things on it). It happened to be Mother’s Day and I couldn’t help but think about my mom when I was there looking at his grave. One of my earliest memories was listening to The Doors in the car driving back and forth between Los Angeles and Orange County. I used to imagine Jim Morrison as a giant shadow monster and was startled to see what he looked like when I got older. In 1967 Nico began to compose songs by herself inspired by her friendship with Jim Morrison. Before, she had only sung songs written by other song writers. She was encouraged by Jim to start writing down her dreams which led to her writing her own poems and songs.
Quote from Nico: The Life and Lies of an Icon
“I thought of Jim Morrison as my brother, so we would grow together. We still do, because he is my soul brother. We exchanged blood. I carry his blood inside me. When he died, and I told people that he wasn’t dead, this was my meaning. We had spiritual journeys together..’ ” (Witts 185)
” ‘Jim gave me permission to be a writer,” Nico claimed. ‘He said to me one day, “I give you permission to write your poems and compose your songs!” My soul brother believed I could do it. I had his authority. And why not? His song was the most popular song in America.” (Witts 187)
(drawing of the stairs at Le Pop In)
On Sunday night (May 10) I met up with Tristan at Le Pop In, the bar that I am going to play a show at Wednesday night (May 13). Erwan suggested I go to open mic on Sunday to get a feel for the place and to tell some people about the show. Tristan didn’t have a guitar accompanying him on his journey but I definitely do so I let him borrow mine. We both performed two songs in front of a French audience and I think it was a good experience for us. We went back to my hotel and jammed on some songs that we both know and I recorded us playing a song by Death Cab Cutie called Crooked Teeth on my cell phone. (Inserted below).
On Monday night (May 11) I played a house show that was set up by Oliver Peel, a man who puts together indie and DIY shows in Paris. He cooked 6 vegetarian quiches and provided chips and drinks for everyone. Food is always a part of his concerts and that is quite an appeal to people. The show wasn’t at his house, but a friend of his in the music community. Before finding the house, I had some difficulties locating it. I tried to look at the email that was sent to me but since I wasn’t connected to the internet it was in French and no longer translated into English. I had been dropped off on Bis Avenue Pasteur, fully dressed for the concert with my flower headband, my guitar, my merchandise bag, and my backpack. Standing there, sticking out because of the flower crown, and looking like a confused American (at least that’s how I felt) all of a sudden I was approached by about 6 different French guys talking to me and telling me how they loved my fashion and how beautiful I looked. They told me that nobody wears flowers in their hair here or red platforms, which I thought was weird because isn’t Paris supposed to be the center of fashion? I found it odd that me wearing a bright color on my head and on my feet exhibited such a strong reaction from these guys. Since I couldn’t read the email, one of the French guys translated it for me, showed me where the house was, and ended up going to the show. He was 19 and played us some songs on my acoustic guitar. Today I hung out with a French women who told me that “Paris is the center of fashion unless you live here. If you wear anything other than black people stare at you. I don’t even wear skirts out in public because too many guys say dirty things under their breath or make comments at me.”
(candles burning at Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Paris) – went there today. (May 12)
Poem I wrote:
Canals of crystals
submarines and trains
sabots and systems
destruction and creation
the secrets of the night
ancestral karma
forgotten names
broken crosses on
tombstones
take fire to the wound
to burn away the scar
the gasping moon
yellow fields
love notes in a jar
send directions
a maze
to a certain graveyard
walking down the
winding staircase
pleasantly lost in
the 1600s
where I was
a princess
running down
the
halls
acoustic guitar
in my hand
my voice traveling
up the rafters
into the beams
oh how I would
cry out
laughs
that could be
screams
It’s a strange thing when you learn a lot of things about an artist you like. Sometimes you discover things that aren’t so great and make you question whether you even like them anymore. Do we apologize their flaws and just listen to the music and appreciate the art? I think it matters on the individual person and their scenario at hand. I keep thinking about Nico and realizing how little I really knew about her before I started to read Nico: The Life and Lies of an Icon. She didn’t even know how to play an instrument and taught herself the harmonium which she lugged around with her everywhere. It was sheer determination (or fate, she was a Fatalist) and her beautiful look that helped her carve a place in music history. Rock journalists are quick to deem her just a heroin addict junkie without really looking at her story. She was a complete nihilist and detached from the world in a way where she would disassociate with her body. I discovered some horrific things while reading this book which made me not really like Brian Jones anymore, one of the original founding members of the Rolling Stones. Nico and Brian had a friendship that led to an intimate relationship; Nico really just wanted to be close to their manager at the time, Andrew Loog Oldham. “Nico made sure that first of all she met their manager. She had been told he was looking for ‘girls to turn into stars’.” (Witts 101)
Brian and Nico had a dark relationship. “Jones was a sadist who could turn submissive” (Witts 107).
Here are some passages I found which disturbed me:
“On one occasion he had taken some amphetamine pills which rendered him nervous and impotent. He wanted sex but couldn’t manage an erection. He slapped her around and punched her in the face, leaving a bruise. Another time, while tripping, he attempted to stick a brooch pin through her vaginal lips, cutting her. She also said he placed a loaded gun into her vagina as a dildo. She talked of his ceremonial candles, their golden flames, the dripping of hot wax on to his nipples, and the pouring of the stinging wax on to her vagina hair, which Nico had to cut off with scissors once the wax had cooled and congealed. Jones also used candles as dildos, she said. On the occasion of the Los Angeles hotel sighting by a photographer, they had both taken LSD, the drug that induces adventurous hallucinations and mood shifts – the ‘good trip’ or the ‘bad trip’ depending on results. Jones tied Nico down for anal intercourse, which he conducted without a lubricant. She bled profusely, inducing a bad trip, but she dared not call for medical help from the hotel only once she was finally alone and had ‘come down’.” (Witts 106-107)
“She knew, though, that Jones had little more to offer her, for he had been quoted in the rock press then as saying: “I haven’t tied myself down with a girl yet [an unfortunate turn of phrase]. After all, how many girls could I find who would make me tea, cook me meals, tidy my house, and talk intelligently to me while I sit and watch with my feet up?” (Witts 109)
I have met a lot of people who idealize Brian Jones as the “original Rolling Stone”, a “fashion icon”, a sort of “rock legend”, but I have never seen this side to the story. Knowing about his personal life has made me not the biggest fan.On July 3 1969 Brian Jones was found dead floating in his swimming pool. His death was written down as “accidental death”. This is just something I have been thinking about while reading and reevaluating the music I have always loved.
As I’m sitting here I am literally bursting with energy even though I haven’t slept much. I have been having to coordinate my recent plans around the train strikes that are happening in Germany. The strikes started on Monday and are going on for 10 days supposedly. It’s really messing with my plans and I had to completely change things. I originally had a show booked for tomorrow in Leipzig but had to cancel it because of the train situation and the options for getting there are too stressful for me to deal with right now. Lindsy and I found a way to Berlin tomorrow though that way I can still play my show there at Madame Claude’s on May 8. From there we are taking a flight to Paris a day early before my first show there on May 11.
Earlier this week Lindsy and I took a train to Hamburg where we met up with Against Me! (the band I mentioned in the previous post). The train was about 4 hours long and I had time to read one of my books, Nico: The Life and Lies of an Icon. I am almost done with the book and couldn’t put it down. I do like to stare out the window occasionally while riding the train but I feel it’s the best time for me to get my reading done. Currently I am sitting in the dark with my candles burning. I have deemed them mine with the drop of oil, the carving of a symbol. I have found that Nico was extremely into candles and found myself relating to her quite a bit. “Candles make stars of light. A room is a universe.” Nico had said (P 199). John Cale of The Velvet Underground said, “Candles. Yes, candles. Candles everywhere.” The book I’m reading about Nico has really opened my eyes to who she was as an artist. Understanding the roots of her German childhood really frames the portrait of her life. As a child she experienced numerous things that would have left someone with PTSD (something she had but never was diagnosed with). Traumatizing events like seeing Jewish people being railed away in carts during WW2, being given a lampshade made of human flesh, a bar of soap made of human flesh, and being raped as a 13 year old by a man who was tried in court and hung (many women testified against him). Events like these made Christa Paffgen (Nico) into the person she would be her whole life; a detached nihilist who sang with a hauntingly beautiful voice. Such sorrow is heard in her singing, it is something that cannot be replicated. It stands alone in its powerfully low androgynous depth. During interviews she would usually just say “ho ho ho”. I have never read about a more interesting human. She was born in Cologne, a city about 20 minutes from Bonn. During my stay here I have been to Cologne about 6 times. Before she moved to New York City, Nico spent a lot of time in Paris and London due to her modeling career. I have already been to London and will be in Paris soon. While in Hamburg, Laura Jane Grace of Against Me! asked me if I wanted to go to Amsterdam with them the next day and open for them at Bitterzoet. I said yes of instantly, double checked with Lindsy, and she was on board immediately. The next day I opened for their sold out show and was met with love from Against Me! fans. It was Lindsy’s first time in Amsterdam and my 2nd time. We had to go back 2 days later for another show at a government funded punk community center called OCCII. The people who volunteer cook vegetarian food for the band. It was great to see two different sides of the music scene in Amsterdam.
This week I went back to the Beethoven house to have an audio tour after reading more of the Beethoven biography. Going there a second time around was definitely a good idea. I could actually understand all of the items on display and their history this time. I viewed paintings of Christian Neefe, Beethoven’s music teacher as a child that encouraged him to compose his own music. They don’t allow pictures in the Beethoven house or I would haven taken photos of the original compositions hand written by Beethoven.
Tonight we went and saw Salome, the opera composed by Richard Strauss. I already knew the premise and how it would end because we read about it in The Rest is Noise. That still didn’t take away from the creepy ending with the three decapitated heads being served on a platter. This version of the opera was more modern than I had pictured in my mind. The set looked like the 1920s.
On Monday my grandma, Lindsy, and I flew to London from Cologne, Germany. It was my grandma’s and Lindsy’s first time in the UK. I have been there once before when I played a show with Foxygen in London in 2013 at The Lexington and also did a BBC session there but I had no time at all to explore the city. We booked a small apartment in North London that was conveniently located near the tube station. I found after reviewing prices that it was cheaper to stay in a small apartment for 5 days compared to renting a hotel room. It ended up being a good choice except that the kitchen and bathroom area had an unpleasant aroma but thankfully it wasn’t next to where we were sleeping. There’s a pedometer on my grandma’s phone that keeps track of how many miles you walk and I was amazed to see how much walking we did in just one day. Our record was 7 miles as we explored Covent Garden. It took a few days of adjusting to get used to people walking and driving on the opposite side of the street. There were a few times I felt like people were going to knock us over. By the end of the trip I was pretty much a pro at using the subway. It reminded me of the subways in New York but a bit easier to use and understand. On Wednesday (the 22nd) we went to the Tower of London which was fascinating but also creepy. The grounds of the place are oozing with history and years of stories that you can feel just by looking at the castle from a distance but walking through the castle really makes you feel that that heaviness. The phrase “sent to the tower” originated from the 16th and 17th century when the castle was used as a prison. The White Tower was built in 1078 by William the Conqueror and is ghost like. For some reason all of the polaroids I took at the Tower of London were completely white and over exposed. I took some photos with my cell phone though. On Friday (the 24th) I played at The Lexington with a band from New Jersey called “Screaming Females”. The show was sold out and I was really nervous before performing. I haven’t been that nervous at a show in years. After playing my set I felt extremely happy, joyous, and uplifted. It made me feel like I had a natural high. The audience was very receptive to my music and I was able to meet people who have been listening to my music for the last year. I honestly have never experienced the kindness from fans the way I did in London. I had multiple girls come up to me and tell me how much my songs meant to them and how it inspired them to write their own music. I felt truly touched. It was my favorite show I have ever played as Globelamp. That night we got back to the apartment late and ended up getting two hours of sleep because we had to catch a flight back to Cologne, Germany early in the morning. With minimal sleep, Lindsy and I got back to my uncle’s house and passed out for two hours, only to get up again and attend another sold out rock show. Time warp much? Two sold out shows in two different countries in two days? Except this time the show we went to was a punk rock show, one of my favorite punk bands from when I was a teenager, Against Me! I had been corresponding with the lead singer of the band (much to my shock that they even listened to my music) and she put Lindsy and I on the guest list. We got a ride to Cologne, Germany and went to the merch booth to check out what Against Me! had for sale. The man working at the booth asked me my name and when I responded he told me, “Laura told me to bring you to her immediately when you got here”. Lindsy and I looked at each other in a fan girlish sort of way and followed him backstage where I finally got to meet Laura Jane Grace. Well not only did I get to meet her but she suggested we write a song together. So basically if I wasn’t in Europe this opportunity wouldn’t have happened.
After recovering from our intense weekend Lindsy and I went to downtown Bonn to find a cafe to do some research in. The house I am staying in has horrible internet connection and it sometimes takes up to ten minutes to even load a page. We went into a church called St. Remigius Parish Church which is included in the “Beethoven walk” and it is where the young Ludwig played organ at 6am morning services in the Minorite Church. Today it is the church of the Catholic Chaplaincy Bonn and the organ is now kept in the Beethoven House where visitors can go view it. Inside the church I lit a candle for all of my loved ones who have passed away. It’s something I do whenever I go into a church in Europe and have extra change with me. Today we visited LVR-Freilichtmuseum Kommern, an open air museum out in the country that shows how people lived 100s of years ago. It was interesting to see because the house we are staying in is exactly like the houses that can be found in the “Eiffel” section of the village. Tomorrow Lindsy and I are taking a train to Hamburg to hang out with Laura Jane Grace of Against Me!. Hopefully we begin writing a song together or at least start throwing ideas at the wall.
This week has been very busy for me. Monday we arrived in Frankfurt, Germany and took a short train ride to Bonn where my uncle picked us up. It was quite a hassle because my grandma and I had many bags; we had one suitcase full of antiques specifically for my uncle (he restores antiques). On Tuesday I walked around downtown Bonn with my grandma and uncle. The weather was very warm and the sun was out the whole time, something that is not very common here. The climate is quite similar to Washington in that it is cold, rainy, and grey most of the time so the people get really excited when the sun is out. I saw multiple street performers, one was playing the marimba. We visited the Bonn Minster (Bonner Münster in German), a Roman Catholic church that was built between the 11th and 13th century, making it one of Germany’s oldest churches. Beethoven played the church organ there as a young boy. It is probably the biggest church organ I have ever seen in person. According to legends Saints Cassius and Florentius (the patron saints of Bonn) were beheaded for their religious beliefs on the spot where the church stands. There are statues of two heads in front of the church representing them.
We went by the Bonn tourism office and got a map of Bonn and also a map of where Beethoven had been around Bonn. While in the tourist office I saw a picture of the Bonn Symphony Orchestra on the wall with my uncle featured on the left.
We visited the house that Beethoven was born in, which is the main attraction that brings people to Bonn. Inside the house are manuscripts and letters written by Beethoven. While walking through the house I felt as though I was being transported back through time. The floors creaked with every step we took and we were told to leave our cameras behind so I wasn’t able to take photos inside. The house features the first viola Beethoven owned, his death masks, his ear cones that he used to try to get back his hearing at the end of his life (which didn’t work unfortunately), and many other possessions owned by the legendary composer. Images of Beethoven are literally all over the city from the obvious (the Beethoven haus) to statues of him in the city square, delis, on chocolates, and inside the banks. After talking to numerous locals, I realized that the Bonn Symphony Orchestra still remains in Bonn because of Beethoven. Bonn used to the be capital of Germany and since the capital switched to Berlin, there’s really no point in Bonn having such a prestigious orchestra. It’s all because Beethoven was born in Bonn that makes this city have such an important musical cultural significance.
During the weekend we went to see two operas at the Operhaus Bonn. I noticed that most of the crowd were older people (something our classmates observed at the opera that they attended in Seattle). My uncle played trumpet during both operas (and every other opera that is performed there). On Friday night we went to see a 4 hour opera, The Tales of Hoffmann, which was performed in French and subtitled in German. It was a bit confusing to follow since none of it was in English. I researched it before going to watch but still couldn’t follow the premise. At first it seemed like we were watching parts out of Frankenstein or Beetlejuice because of the dramatic face paint and steam punk costumes. Everyone’s hair was white and tinged neon green. Even with minimal knowledge of what was going on, I could still appreciate the instrumentation, beautiful costumes, set design, and wonderful music. I did feel a little disoriented after because of so many languages being projected at me (French being sung, German on the screen). After the opera I went home and read up on “The Tales of Hoffmann” and it made more sense. I would like to watch it again in English.
On Saturday night we went to see another opera, Fidelio, which was the only opera Beethoven ever wrote. Since I was so confused by The Tales of Hoffmann, I spent an hour reading about it before going. It really helped and I was moved by the story and love how Beethoven took a political message and put it into music. This opera was only 2 hours long. I feel extremely lucky that I was able to watch my uncle play in an opera by Beethoven in the city of his birth and in the language it was composed in.
my sketch of a building in Bonn that I sat across from drinking tea during the afternoon and people watched. It looks very old but is situated among modern businesses like Starbucks.
Journeys are the midwives of thought, the action, reflection, and experience of helping bring another reality into this world. On a journey or trip, we come back feeling different or changed somehow. Things aren’t always as we “imagined” them back in our homeland and we may find where we are go are not as we have thought. This isn’t necessarily good or bad; it just is. Journeys are the midwives of thought, while we travel we are giving birth to new consciousness within ourselves. The journey isn’t the consciousness, but the assistant helping our new perspectives shape and take form.
While returning from a place we sometimes find ourselves remembering how much time we spent thinking about being in the place we are now returned from.
