È chiaramente un segno dell'inesorabile scorrere del tempo, e tanto varrebbe farci l’abitudine, perché ci sono ben pochi rimedi a riguardo. Però è una cosa che ogni volta che ci penso mi mette addosso un po’ di tristezza.
Man mano che il tempo passa sono sempre più frequenti le scomparse di persone che in varie misure hanno contato qualcosa nella mia vita. E questo blog ne è una prova, anche solo nell’ambito musicale. Li ho contati un po’ alla veloce, ma in poco più di un anno sono 8 i post ad memoriam, uno stillicidio.
E ora è toccato a sua maestà Don Van Vliet, also known as Captain Beefheart.
In realtà è morto un mese e mezzo fa (il 17 dicembre scorso), ma essendo un pelino meno celebre di Michael Jackson, la notizia ha avuto un po’ meno risonanza, e io me l’ero persa.
L’ho scoperto ieri, ed è stata un’altra botta di tristezza.
Lo conoscevo non da moltissimo tempo, da quando ho scoperto che gente come John Peel, Lester Bangs o il nostro Piero Scaruffi lo consideravano autore del più grande disco rock di tutti i time: Trout Mask Replica.
was a time when I was trying to retrieve knowledge about the music pre-1980 to bridge gaps which I later discovered to be true chasms, so find out which one I had not even heard the name was bestowed the author of Absolute Masterpiece , who could not throw me to the purchase and immediate spasm of that album.
then I have done as everyone: I turned on the CD player and I wondered what the fuck was going on. Music out of phase, uncoordinated, out of time, each for its cabbages, that magnetic voice but absurd. And this would be-masterpiece?
I realized only later to have tried a jump too long. I was past time to make comparisons, by Calvin Joyce, from Spielberg to Buñuel, from Caravaggio to Pollock. I planted a nasata, nothing to be surprised. However, the character Captain Beefheart
I looked for information, critical analysis, I listened to his other discs, I tried to understand coming to realize that there is to understand. As often happens in art.
And in the end I got attached. How can you attach to a gruff and grumpy guy but is capable of looking and seeing things that you do not know even imagine.
And then did what every artist worthy of the name should do instead of disgraced: he retired.
Or rather, he tried again for more than 10 years to become a musician, who came to affect album either cut off or acclaimed (but with the weight of precedent there, I would like to see anyone stand up to the comparison), but who invariably turn out to be a commercial disaster.
and then devoted himself to painting. It had happened, really.
That is, take a star boiled at random, a Sting, David Gilmour and leave a devote himself to painting. What are the chances to be kicked in the ass by unanimous criticism? Very high in my opinion.
Well, he called back to Don Van Vliet, no. He has been successful. He has exhibited at MoMA. His paintings cost a bang when he was alive, imagine now.
And I do not know why, but this success made me more sympathetic. A true artist, of those that if you give them all an expressive instrument, with what we do Art with a capital letter.
His music was now frozen in the past, would not have made more than new. But I am afraid the same really is gone. Add another bit of sadness the passing of time.
Hello Captain.
Below is pictured with his friend-foe Frank Zappa.
Lords of Hollywood: if you ever decide to make a film about the Captain, and would be precisely the case, Benicio Del Toro is perfect for the part.
Then do not say that I told you so.
