Hear James Joyce’s Finnegans Wake Read Aloud & Set to Music: 31 Hours of Free Unabridged Audio

Wake-Berry
James Joyce’s final and most dif­fi­cult nov­el Finnegans Wake unlocks a lot of its secrets when read aloud, prefer­ably in an Irish accent. In this way, Joyce’s mul­ti­lay­ered word­play makes sense aural­ly even if all the mean­ing might not be appar­ent on paper. (His broth­er, Stanis­laus, called it “the work of a psy­chopath.”)

An audio­book ver­sion would be good—-and there is one by Patrick Healy from 1992 (lis­ten online) —but one with music would be much bet­ter. This month, Way­words and Mean­signs, a project co-found­ed by Derek Pyle, has released its ver­sion of the nov­el with each of its 17 chap­ters per­formed by a dif­fer­ent group of musi­cians and read­ers. The full text is rep­re­sent­ed here in a stag­ger­ing 30+ hours. (You can read along here.)

“Our hope was to cre­ate a ver­sion of Joyce’s book that would be acces­si­ble to new­com­ers, but still feel fresh and excit­ing for devot­ed stu­dents and schol­ars,” says Pyle.

As with all com­pi­la­tion albums, some tracks are bet­ter than oth­ers. Mar­i­ana Lanari & Sjo­erd Leijten’s open­ing chap­ter chops and cuts var­i­ous voic­es togeth­er with a hyp­not­ic elec­tron­ic back­ing, recre­at­ing the con­fu­sion of those open­ing pages and the bar­rage of influ­ences and voic­es. They also per­form the final chap­ter. (Lanari is part of the Rong­Wrong Finnegans Wake Read­ing Group in Ams­ter­dam.) Peter Quadri­no, Jake Read­ing & Evan James take on Book 3, Chap­ter 3, with a mix of faux-Tom Waits and Mar­tin Den­ny pro­vid­ing the back­drop. (Quadri­no is leader of the Finnegans Wake Read­ing Group of Austin, Texas) The jazz­i­er the back­drop, by the by, does reveal Joyce’s con­nec­tion to the Beat poets. Oth­er tracks are dry and more straight-for­ward: face it, not every­body has the most beau­ti­ful read­ing voice. It is def­i­nite­ly a labor of love, and reveals how many FW read­ing groups there are around the globe.

Oth­er artists involved in the project include sax­o­phon­ist Hay­den Chisholm, and painter Robert Amos, whose work you can find at the James Joyce Bistro in Vic­to­ria, British Colum­bia.

Way­words and Mean­signs have released the full project on Archive.org under a Cre­ative Com­mons license. (Stream above or down­load all of the files here.) Those who read this and feel they’ve missed out on the cre­ativ­i­ty of tack­ling Finnegans Wake, don’t wor­ry. The web­site is tak­ing sub­mis­sions for a sec­ond edi­tion.

Relat­ed con­tent:

James Joyce, With His Eye­sight Fail­ing, Draws a Sketch of Leopold Bloom (1926)

F. Scott Fitzger­ald Has a Strange Din­ner with James Joyce & Draws a Cute Sketch of It (1928)

James Joyce Reads From Ulysses and Finnegans Wake In His Only Two Record­ings (1924/1929)

Ted Mills is a free­lance writer on the arts who cur­rent­ly hosts the FunkZone Pod­cast. You can also fol­low him on Twit­ter at @tedmills, read his oth­er arts writ­ing at tedmills.com and/or watch his films here.

96 Drawings of David Bowie by the “World’s Best Comic Artists”: Michel Gondry, Kate Beaton & More

Pope Bowie

There is a David Bowie for every sea­son. A Christ­mas David Bowie, a Hal­loween David Bowie, even a David Bowie East­er cel­e­bra­tion. But much more than that, there may be a David Bowie for every Bowie fan, espe­cial­ly for artists influ­enced by his chameleon­ic career. See for your­self how a whop­ping 96 Bowie-lov­ing artists—in this case main­ly what Bowie him­self calls the “World’s Best Com­ic Artists”—see the changling rock star/actor/space alien.

Gondry Bowie

“See my life in a com­ic… The lit­tle details in colour,” writes Bowie on his site of a web gallery of por­traits com­piled by “com­ic artist, writer and crit­ic, not to men­tion huge Bowie fan, Sean T. Collins.” It’s called The Thin White Sketch­booka clever title that alludes to just one of the myr­i­ad Bowie per­son­ae rep­re­sent­ed in the size­able col­lec­tion of 96 draw­ings (see a nos­tal­gic one by pro­lif­ic illus­tra­tor Paul Pope at the top—the book’s first sketch).

Collins’ impres­sive col­lec­tion includes work from Michel Gondry (Eter­nal Sun­shine of the Spot­less Mind), whose con­tri­bu­tion the edi­tor calls “pret­ty god­damn won­der­ful if you ask me.” See it above. And below, Kate Beat­on, cre­ator of web com­ic Hark, A Vagrant, gives us Bowie as a dandy, a char­ac­ter with whom, writes Collins, she has a “rich his­to­ry.”

Beaton-Bowie

Collins offers brief com­men­tary beneath each image in the col­lec­tion, which also gives us the strange inter­pre­ta­tion below by Bowie-inspired under­ground comics leg­end Charles Burns; the intense and Archie-esque con­tri­bu­tions fur­ther down by Broth­ers Jaime and Gilbert Her­nan­dez, cre­ators of the 80s New Wave clas­sic com­ic Love and Rock­ets; and the out­er space-pro­por­tioned Bowie at the bot­tom of the post, from vocal­ist Tunde Ade­bimpe of TV on the Radio, a band that has both cov­ered and record­ed with Bowie.

Burns Bowie

Hernandez Bowie

Hernandez 2 Bowie

Tunde Bowie

View the full set of Bowie draw­ings, no two remote­ly the same, at The Thin White Sketch­book’s Flickr page.

via Buz­zfeed.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

50 Years of Chang­ing David Bowie Hair Styles in One Ani­mat­ed GIF

David Bowie Releas­es Vin­tage Videos of His Great­est Hits from the 1970s and 1980s

David Gilmour & David Bowie Sing “Com­fort­ably Numb” Live (2006)

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Hear the “Seikilos Epitaph,” the Oldest Complete Song in the World: An Inspiring Tune from 100 BC

Last sum­mer, we fea­tured a Sumer­ian hymn con­sid­ered the old­est known song in the world. Giv­en the pop­u­lar­i­ty of that post, it seems we may have long under­es­ti­mat­ed the num­ber of ancient-musi­cophiles on the inter­net. There­fore, we sub­mit today for your approval the Seik­i­los epi­taph, the old­est known com­plete musi­cal com­po­si­tion — that is to say, a song that our 21st-cen­tu­ry selves can still play and hear in its intend­ed entire­ty, more or less as did the ancient Greeks who lived dur­ing the first-cen­tu­ry (or there­abouts) era of its com­po­si­tion.

The Seik­i­los epi­taph’s sur­vival in one piece, as it were, no doubt owes some­thing to its short­ness. The Greeks could carve the entire thing onto the sur­face of a tomb­stone, exact­ly the medi­um on which the mod­ern world redis­cov­ered it in 1885 near Aidin, Turkey. Its lyrics, lib­er­al­ly brought into Eng­lish, exhort us as fol­lows:

While you live, shine

have no grief at all

life exists only for a short while

and time demands its toll.

The sur­face also bears an explana­to­ry inscrip­tion about — and writ­ten in the voice of — the arti­fact itself:  “I am a tomb­stone, an image. Seik­i­los placed me here as an ever­last­ing sign of death­less remem­brance.” The Greeks, like many peo­ples in the ancient world of unvar­nished mor­tal­i­ty, rel­ished a good memen­to mori, and this old­est com­plete song in the world offers one whose mes­sage still holds today, and which we can trace all the way to more recent words, like those of William Saroy­an, when he said, “In the time of your life, live — so that in that good time there shall be no ugli­ness or death for your­self or for any life your life touch­es.”

Or for anoth­er inter­pre­ta­tion, you can hear a mod­ern, gui­tar-dri­ven cov­er of the Seik­i­los epi­taph by Vlog­broth­er and famous inter­net teacher Hank Green, in a tru­ly strik­ing exam­ple of two eras col­lid­ing. But of course, the Youtube era has also made every­one a crit­ic. As one com­menter per­fect­ly put it, “I pre­fer his ear­li­er stuff.”

Seikilos epitaph

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Lis­ten to the Old­est Song in the World: A Sumer­ian Hymn Writ­ten 3,400 Years Ago

What Ancient Greek Music Sound­ed Like: Hear a Recon­struc­tion That is ‘100% Accu­rate’

Hear The Epic of Gil­gamesh Read in the Orig­i­nal Akka­di­an and Enjoy the Sounds of Mesopotamia

Learn Latin, Old Eng­lish, San­skrit, Clas­si­cal Greek & Oth­er Ancient Lan­guages in 10 Lessons

Col­in Mar­shall writes on cities, lan­guage, Asia, and men’s style. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer, and the video series The City in Cin­e­maFol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Miles Davis Opens for Neil Young and “That Sorry-Ass Cat” Steve Miller at The Fillmore East (1970)

miles fillmore east

The sto­ry, the many sto­ries, of Miles Davis as an open­ing act for sev­er­al rock bands in the 1970s make for fas­ci­nat­ing read­ing. Before he blew the Grate­ful Dead’s minds as their open­ing act at the Fill­more West in April 1970 (hear both bands’ sets here), Davis and his all-star Quintet—billed as an “Extra Added Attraction”—did a cou­ple nights at the Fill­more East, open­ing for Neil Young and Crazy Horse and The Steve Miller Band in March of 1970. The com­bi­na­tion of Young and Davis actu­al­ly seems to have been rather unre­mark­able, but there is a lot to say about where the two artists were indi­vid­u­al­ly.

Nate Chi­nen in at Length describes their meet­ing as a “min­i­mum orbit inter­sec­tion distance”—the “clos­est point of con­tact between the paths of two orbit­ing sys­tems.” Both artists were “in the thrall of rein­ven­tion,” Young mov­ing away from the smooth­ness of CSNY and into free-form anti-vir­tu­os­i­ty with Crazy Horse; Davis toward vir­tu­os­i­ty turned back into the blues. Miles, sug­gest­ed jazz writer Greg Tate, was “bored fid­dling with quan­tum mechan­ics and just want­ed to play the blues again.” The sto­ry of Davis and Young at the Fill­more East is best told by lis­ten­ing to the music both were mak­ing at the time. Hear “Cin­na­mon Girl” below and the rest of Neil Young and Crazy Horse’s incred­i­ble set here. The band had just released their beau­ti­ful­ly ragged Every­body Knows this is Nowhere.

When it comes to the meet­ing of Davis and Steve Miller, the sto­ry gets juici­er, and much more Miles: the dif­fi­cult per­former, not the impos­si­bly cool musi­cian. (It some­times seems like the word “dif­fi­cult” was invent­ed to describe Miles Davis.) The trum­peter’s well-earned ego­tism lends his lega­cy a kind of rak­ish charm, but I don’t rel­ish the posi­tions of those record com­pa­ny exec­u­tives and pro­mot­ers who had to wran­gle him, though many of them were less than charm­ing indi­vid­u­als them­selves. Colum­bia Records’ Clive Davis, who does not have a rep­u­ta­tion as a pushover, sounds alarmed in his rec­ol­lec­tion of Miles’ reac­tion after he forced the trum­peter to play the Fill­more dates to mar­ket psy­che­del­ic jazz-funk mas­ter­piece Bitch­es Brew to white audi­ences.

Accord­ing to John Glatt, Davis remem­bers that Miles “went nuts. He told me he had no inter­est in play­ing for ‘those fu*king long-haired kids.’” Par­tic­u­lar­ly offend­ed by The Steve Miller Band, Davis refused to arrive on time to open for an artist he deemed “a sor­ry-ass cat,” forc­ing Miller to go on before him. “Steve Miller didn’t have his shit going for him,” remem­bers Davis in his exple­tive-filled auto­bi­og­ra­phy, “so I’m pissed because I got to open for this non-play­ing motherfu*ker just because he had one or two sor­ry-ass records out. So I would come late and he would have to go on first and then when we got there, we smoked the motherfu*king place, and every­body dug it.” There is no doubt Davis and Quin­tet smoked. Hear them do “Direc­tions” above from an Ear­ly Show on March 6, 1970.

“Direc­tions,” from unre­leased tapes, is as raw as they come, “the inten­si­ty,” writes music blog Willard’s Worm­holes, “of a band that sounds like they were play­ing at the The Fill­more to prove some­thing to some­body… and did.” The next night’s per­for­mances were released in 2001 as It’s About That Time. Hear the title track above from March 7th. As for The Steve Miller Blues Band? We have audio of their per­for­mance from that night as well. Hear it below. It’s inher­ent­ly an unfair com­par­i­son between the two bands, not least because of the vast dif­fer­ence in audio qual­i­ty. But as for whether or not they sound like “sor­ry-ass cats”… well, you decide.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Night When Miles Davis Opened for the Grate­ful Dead in 1970: Hear the Com­plete Record­ings

Miles Davis’ Entire Discog­ra­phy Pre­sent­ed in a Styl­ish Inter­ac­tive Visu­al­iza­tion

Bill Graham’s Con­cert Vault: From Miles Davis to Bob Mar­ley

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Hear What is Jazz?: Leonard Bernstein’s Introduction to the Great American Art Form (1956)

By 1956, jazz was enter­ing its hard bop phase, far from its New Orleans birth­place. At the same time, it was frac­tur­ing into sev­er­al inter­na­tion­al gen­res, with the influ­ence of Latin rhythms and the south sea breezes of lounge.

Rock and Roll was just about to dis­place this music as a pub­lic men­ace du jour (or a pass­ing fad as some thought). This fas­ci­nat­ing Colum­bia release from 1956 finds the com­pos­er and con­duc­tor Leonard Bern­stein set­ting down his thoughts on the art form of jazz. A spo­ken word record with sam­ples from rag­time to Miles Davis, Bern­stein’s defense-as-lec­ture is a win­dow on the cul­ture wars at the time.

He’s here to defend jazz against its crit­ics, and argues against their opin­ions: jazz has low-class ori­gins, it’s loud, and it’s not art — the same cri­tiques to be lev­eled decades lat­er against hip hop.

In 1956, Bern­stein was already known to the gen­er­al pub­lic as an edu­ca­tor on clas­si­cal music. He gave lec­tures on CBS’ Omnibus TV pro­gram on the great sym­phonies, while he had already dab­bled in the instru­men­ta­tion and tex­tures of jazz in his score to On the Water­front, and was busy work­ing on West Side Sto­ry. So he was in a per­fect posi­tion to intro­duce a con­ser­v­a­tive mind to jazz. “I love it because it’s an orig­i­nal kind of emo­tion­al expres­sion, in that it is nev­er whol­ly sad or whol­ly hap­py,” he says.

Appear­ing on the album is Buck Clay­ton, Louis Arm­strong, Buster Bai­ley, Bessie Smith, Teo Macero, and Miles Davis. Davis, who had just been signed by Columbia’s George Avakian, plays “Sweet Sue,” mak­ing this track his first record­ing for the label. Bern­stein illus­trates jazz music the­o­ry, “blue notes,” dis­so­nance, rhythm and explores the African ori­gins of the music for 42 fas­ci­nat­ing min­utes. Did this LP turn a lot of clas­si­cal musos on to jazz? Did this influ­ence the chil­dren whose par­ents had this in their col­lec­tion? Was it all for­got­ten sev­er­al years lat­er with Beat­le­ma­nia? What­ev­er the answer, it’s an intrigu­ing rem­nant of a tran­si­tion­al time.

Relat­ed con­tent:

Leonard Bernstein’s Mas­ter­ful Lec­tures on Music (11+ Hours of Video Record­ed at Har­vard in 1973)

Leonard Bernstein’s First “Young People’s Con­cert” at Carnegie Hall Asks, “What Does Music Mean?”

Leonard Bern­stein Demys­ti­fies the Rock Rev­o­lu­tion for Curi­ous (if Square) Grown-Ups in 1967

Ted Mills is a free­lance writer on the arts who cur­rent­ly hosts the FunkZone Pod­cast. You can also fol­low him on Twit­ter at @tedmills, read his oth­er arts writ­ing at tedmills.com and/or watch his films here.

Hear 46 Versions of Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring in 3 Minutes: A Classic Mashup

In 2013, New York’s most pop­u­lar clas­si­cal music sta­tion WQXR cel­e­brat­ed the cen­ten­ni­al of Igor Stravinksy’s The Rite of Spring, with a series of events that cul­mi­nat­ed in Rite of Spring Fever, 24 hours of dif­fer­ent per­for­mances of the work and a live solo inter­pre­ta­tion by Bang on a Can pianist Vicky Chow.

As a pro­mo­tion­al post­ing, WQXR also cre­at­ed this mashup of 46 record­ings in 3 min­utes, show­ing the vary­ing approach­es to Stravinsky’s score, and the wild­ly dif­fer­ent dynam­ics of inter­pre­ta­tion.

Six­teen years after the work’s tumul­tuous live pre­miere in 1913, both Stravin­sky and con­duc­tor Pierre Mon­teux com­pet­ed to record the first ver­sion in 1929 in Paris. That was fol­lowed in 1930 by Leopold Stokows­ki and the Philadel­phia Orches­tra, whose re-record­ed ver­sion would become the most famous when it appeared in Walt Disney’s Fan­ta­sia. That film did more to bring Stravin­sky to wide swathes of soci­ety, from kids to grand­par­ents, than any oth­er per­for­mance. Plus it had frickin’ dinosaurs:

Phil Kline, the com­pos­er and cura­tor of WQXR’s event, notes that it was high-fideli­ty LPs, not 78s, that real­ly brought the dynam­ics of Rites into its own. “Few oth­er clas­sics so des­per­ate­ly need to be heard with a wide dynam­ic range, espe­cial­ly on that big bot­tom end,” he writes.

This mashup is pret­ty schizoid, but shows the per­son­al­i­ties and influ­ences of each con­duc­tor: Leonard Bern­stein cre­ates a col­or­ful and sparkling Rite; Pierre Boulez is like a machine; Kara­jan is thun­der­ous. The var­i­ous piano inter­pre­ta­tions lose none of their bite after being resigned to the key­board. And Stravinsky’s 1960 record­ing with the Colum­bia Sym­pho­ny Orches­tra (aka the New York Phil­har­mon­ic, renamed for con­trac­tu­al rea­sons) is also here, sound­ing just that lit­tle bit sweet­er than the rest.

Via Kot­tke

Relat­ed Con­tent

Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring, Visu­al­ized in a Com­put­er Ani­ma­tion for Its 100th Anniver­sary

Vi Hart Uses Her Video Mag­ic to Demys­ti­fy Stravin­sky and Schoenberg’s 12-Tone Com­po­si­tions

The Avant-Garde Project: An Archive of Music by 200 Cut­ting-Edge Com­posers, Includ­ing Stravin­sky, Schoen­berg, Cage & More

Ted Mills is a free­lance writer on the arts who cur­rent­ly hosts the FunkZone Pod­cast. You can also fol­low him on Twit­ter at @tedmills, read his oth­er arts writ­ing at tedmills.com and/or watch his films here.

The Science of Singing: New, High-Speed MRI Machine Images Man Singing ‘If I Only Had a Brain’

Back in Decem­ber, Ayun Hal­l­i­day took you inside an MRI machine to explore the neu­ro­science of jazz impro­vi­sa­tion and musi­cal cre­ativ­i­ty. Along the way, you got to see Johns Hop­kins sur­geon Charles Limb jam on a key­board inside one of those crowd­ed, claus­tro­pho­bia-induc­ing tubes. How could you beat that for enter­tain­ment?

Today, we return with a new video show­ing anoth­er way the MRI machine is giv­ing sci­en­tists new insights into the mak­ing of music. This time the focus is on how we pro­duce sounds when we sing. When “we sing or speak, the vocal folds—the two small pieces of tis­sue [in our neck]—come togeth­er and, as air pass­es over them, they vibrate,” and pro­duce sound. That’s basi­cal­ly what hap­pens. We know that. But the typ­i­cal MRI machine, cap­tur­ing about 10 frames per sec­ond, is too slow to real­ly let sci­en­tists break down the action of the lar­ynx. Enter the new, high speed MRI machine at the Beck­man Insti­tute at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Illi­nois, work­ing at 100 frames per sec­ond. It does the trick.

Above, you can see the new machine in action, as a vol­un­teer sings ‘If I Only Had a Brain.’ Get more of the back­sto­ry over at the Beck­man Insti­tute.

via Men­tal Floss

Fol­low us on Face­book, Twit­ter, Google Plus and LinkedIn and  share intel­li­gent media with your friends. Or bet­ter yet, sign up for our dai­ly email and get a dai­ly dose of Open Cul­ture in your inbox.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

This is Your Brain on Jazz Impro­vi­sa­tion: The Neu­ro­science of Cre­ativ­i­ty

Why We Love Rep­e­ti­tion in Music: Explained in a New TED-Ed Ani­ma­tion

by | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 2 ) |

Johnny Cash Machines: Johnny Cash Stars in 1980s Commercials for ATM Machines

Back in the 1980s, Cana­da Trust installed a bunch of ATM machines and began con­vinc­ing cus­tomers that banker’s hours were a thing of the past. Now cus­tomers could get mon­ey 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. And who bet­ter to tell cus­tomers how they could con­ve­nient­ly tap their cash than John­ny Cash. Enter the John­ny Cash Machine. Don’t believe me? Here are two 1985 com­mer­cials to prove it.

Get more on the sto­ry at Retrontario.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Fol­low us on Face­book, Twit­ter, Google Plus and LinkedIn and  share intel­li­gent media with your friends. Or bet­ter yet, sign up for our dai­ly email and get a dai­ly dose of Open Cul­ture in your inbox.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

John­ny Cash & Joe Strum­mer Sing Bob Marley’s “Redemp­tion Song” (2002)

John­ny Cash’s Short and Per­son­al To-Do List 

The 1969 Bob Dylan-John­ny Cash Ses­sions: 12 Rare Record­ings

by | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 1 ) |

« Go BackMore in this category... »
Quantcast