Thoughts on the Chicago blues...

The Chicago blues got me thinking about migration, and the exchange of ideas and songs between places. So many of the great Chicago blues musicians came from the south, bringing their traditions and methods with them north and influencing the style of music there while adapting to new modes such as the electric guitar. The south was always in their conscience, and a good deal of the songs we listened to this week referenced a place called home - always in the south. 

I had an idea of what I wanted my piece this week to stand for - the move from a slow and languorous life in the south (the bottom) to a more high energy and quick environment in the north (the top). It didn't quite work out the way I wanted to, but for the better. 

We were asked to ponder some questions on the blues. The use of the electric guitar made me think of the electric highlife genre that was forming around the same time in West Africa. I wondered if they had anything to do with each other, any dialogue, any influence upon the other. While I still don't know the true answer to this question, after our class I'd say of course they do. 

We talked about the idea of home for African-Americans, and how the origins of Af-Am music is undoubtedly related to Africa. I was blown away by what Beth said about having a home in the States, but feeling a bond to a home in Africa that she doesn't and most likely will never know. Even though she's several generations removed from Africa, the connection is still there.

My piece ended up having a mind of its own, and serendipitously, the grain of the wood I outlined on its lower half is strangely reminiscent of the shape of West Africa. 

Love for a place

For this week on the Delta blues, I focused mainly on Robert Johnson, researching his life and trying to understand where he came from. He died young, but managed to become a master of the blues in his short 27 years.  He did not receive recognition for his skill and talent, however, until long after his death.

Robert did a lot moving around in his life. He lived in Memphis, TN and traveled to cities all around the country.  What struck me the most about his life was that no matter where he went, he always ended up where he came from. He continuously moved around to different cities in Mississippi even after experiencing places like New York and Chicago, and died only two hours away from where he was born.

Robert Johnson's life got me thinking about the idea of home. It seems like he was very attached to the landscape of his childhood. I know some people that would never live anywhere but their hometown/region, and I think Rob was one of these people. He really loved where he was from and always came back, even if other places may have been better for him to develop as a musician (the chance to be around other blues musicians from different backgrounds, play more shows, etc). I started to reflect on my idea of home. I realized that I'm not attached to any singular place. I've lived in Chicago, New York, and now Berkeley and I have no particular yearning to live in any of these places for the rest of my life (not to say I wouldn't go back...). I am completely open to moving around and making a home wherever I end up. I guess me and Rob were different in that way...

"An empire he saw in the Pacific Northwest", Roll On Columbia

I picked up on some common themes through the collection of Woody Guthrie songs we studied this week that inspired my work: the man and the exploration of the unknown. In the case of Roll On Columbia, the unknown is the Pacific Northwest. For my piece this week I envisioned an explorer heading West, arriving at a landscape he's never seen before. I've always been intrigued by how America's real explorers were so fearless as they went places no (western) person had gone before. They must've loved the sense of mystery. That's why I chose a blurred image of a man standing atop a mountain (that's how I interpreted the image), taking in what's around him. I placed a piece of acrylic, which I sanded, atop the image. The blurriness of the photo and the fuzziness of the plastic express uncertainty, and the ambiguity of the light in it contributes to this feeling. I like that I don't know what time of day it is in the picture. Is the sun rising from the East behind him? Or is it setting in the West as he looks back toward home?