John Callaghan Music
I'm a songwriter and performer, model and extra.
Contact: JC at JOHNCALLAGHAN dot Co dot UK
So where’s my behind-the-scenes video for Phylactery? Where’s this new material I’ve been promising? Well, I’ve been performing at the Brighton Fringe in Eccentronic’s show We Won’t Rock You. This finishes in three days’ time, so I’ve got until then to come up with a new excuse.
To promote the show, I’ve been editing videos.
Agadon’t:
Socks And Timewasting:
The process has helped me grow as an artist: I’ve learnt new techniques in anger management as I cope with editing software crashing every time I make an edit; the constant surprise which rewards artistic innovation has been found in the variety of unexpected ways the system goes wrong; I’m drinking a lot of tea. Amusingly, this is part of my endeavour to finish projects more rapidly.
I’m told that this is what I should expect from a computer that’s more than three years old. PCs are like pets, apparently; they’re our constant companions and company when we’re lonely. But they age at fast but unpredictable speeds and all too soon we’re having to choose a replacement. I rail against this idea. My music PC is over ten years old, still runs Windows 98, and although it’s by no means perfect it’s more reliable than my whippersnapper machine; once the young cock of the walk, now even that is no spring chicken. Five years old? Why, a human with the equivalent age would resemble Boris Karloff in The Mummy.
I resent the idea that we should resign ourselves to such rapid obselence and decrepitude. I shake my fist impotently against my own aging and peer glumly at each deepening wrinkle; it’s natural that I should mournfully beat my breast when my silicon pet, cradle of my ideas, shows such early senility.
Maybe, like pets and computers, ideas have a different rate of maturation too. Maybe this is the real reason why my projects take so long. They need the right length of time to develop, mature and come to fruition. Maybe they can’t be rushed but I must chaperone them privately until they’re ready to have their debutante ball and are introduced to society, in the hunt for an interested patron. Left too long, the ideas begin their decline and soon are redundant wraiths, signposts to roads only partly taken, the echoing ticks and tocks of wasted time. What’s that in idea years?€
So, anyway, I hope to post that behind-the-scenes video soon.
Here’s the video for my song Phylactery, which is on the Warp 20 box set.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ZrHeXJplus
It features Kate Page (nee Newell) who plays woodwind and sings on the track, and Jenny Cobb, who plays violin. The dancers are Victoria Bettelheim and Beata Rzepecka (who also took the GIF photo of me with the tumbling paper in an earlier post).
I’d like to thank everyone who made this with me. They worked very hard and produced something I think is quite special and of which I’m very proud.
Stay tuned for a commentary on the shooting and even a special ‘behind-the-scenes’ video which shows how it was achieved.
Here’s a promotional photo of me in a shopping trolley:
And here’s the cover of my single Every Kiss:
http://www.wallysgrooveworld.com/sites/default/files/58830.jpg
(contains nudity)
My other job is as an artists’ model. I’ve appeared nude in art installations and performances, in photographs and in public. I was nude during the Saatchi Gallery opening on London’s South Bank (and got to flash Sophie Ellis-Bextor - did you notice how her hair turned white between her first and second albums?). I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being without clothes and I have in fact appeared on international TV speaking in defence of a pro-naked protest I was part of.
I try to avoid using nudity in my own musical performances, though. I know it’d be an easy way to get a reaction - and a reputation - but it would be a sign to myself that I’d run out of ideas. I may one day have a wonderful concept that requires being unclothed, but until then I’ll keep the flashing to my electric suit.
The original cover of Every Kiss…
Short Sharp Shock didn’t like that cover and preferred an image I’d taken of a model in the Custard Factory in Birmingham. Should I have put my foot down? Obviously a nude woman is going to attract more attention than a bald bloke in a wedding dress. And by justifying the picture (it’s tasteful and non-titillating) am I simply making excuses for my lack of conviction? I don’t feel I am guilty of objectifying women, but is that obvious from the picture? Am I part of the solution (everyone should be more relaxed about nudity) or part of the problem (everywhere women look they see images of themselves as naked commodities)?
I’m not the only one using female nudity.
Here are videos by Whomadewho: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cLu-eKhV5_0
and Clean Bandit: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rd0cT7Dnpt8 (about 1’44 in).
Both could be said to be challenging the viewer in some way: Inside World starts off placing the viewer in the position of voyeur and challenges them to enjoy the models’ vulnerability as they parade themselves joylessly for the spectators’ amusement. Towards the end of the video they are more provocative. Is that because the viewer has made their decision to keep watching, and is therefore culpable in objectifying them?
With Clean Bandit the message might be “think electronic music is boring? Think again!” - although I’m not sure anyone actually does nowadays. Look! Electronic music with classical instrumentation! With a stylish video! We’ve got a naked woman, too! Beat that, rock ‘n’ roll! But I suspect the real reason there’s a naked woman in the video is that the cellist is something of an exhibitionist. In this, she is a woman after my own heart. And in all these examples, she’s the only one gazing confidently out and smiling at the viewer. Even Rankin’s photo of a woman in a shopping trolley - where she set up the pose - has a sullen and trapped-looking woman as a commodity rather than the fed-up look I’ve got:
The Whomadewho and Clean Bandit videos could both be said to be suggestive; either camera angles or a conveniently placed violin prevent the viewer seeing ‘the goods’. My EKTAM image is the only example here that has visible full nudity. Similarly, in some art classes I’m asked to keep my boxers on. I don’t like this; it implies that there’s something dangerous, dirty or unwholesome about the hidden areas. One thing I can say in my defence is that there’s no titilating or sexualised aspect to my nude model. But the face is hidden - my subject isn’t being recognised as herself. This is why I’m using the term ‘nude’ rather than ‘naked’. So is she an object?
As you’ll be able to tell from the lack of conclusions I’m drawing, this is a topic I think about a great deal. I’d hope by shamelessly parading around with no clothes on I’m making the world a more relaxed and happier place. But I’d think very carefully before putting another nude woman on a record cover.
The marvellous MaJiKer has a new release, When Fire Becomes My Name. The remix EP features a version by yours truly!
I’d planned to add ukuleles to my mix but when I recorded them (performed by the multi-talented Namtao: http://namtao.com/) it sounded ridiculous, and not in a good way. So the ukuleles are all stuck in timeline limbo, waiting to be sampled. I’ll be preparing some new club music very soon, so expect a uke frenzy.
I digress. When Fire Becomes My Name (including the “John Callaghan Version”) is available here (along with the whole of the rich and interesting House Of Bones album):
and you can hear it here:
http://soundcloud.com/majiker/sets/when-fire-becomes-my-name/
And watch the atmospheric video, which portrays what is doubtless a typical Paris house party (and a health and safety nightmare), here:
I wrote the following in May:
I’ve just come back from Luxor in Egypt. There’s a game that some of the shopkeepers play: they’ll show you an alabaster vase, tell you how valuable it is and then pretend to drop it while passing it to you. Whoops! The idea is that you have the shock and worry of being responsible for some damage and then get the pleasant feeling of relief when it transpires it’s all a joke at your expense. You, the potential customer, have shared a moment with the salesperson, even if you don’t share a language. It’s a way of bonding.
Unless the customer is a miserable devil like me. Lack of sleep, energy and interest meant that on the two occasions this schtick was utilised, all the perpetrator got was either an instinctive disapproving frown or a completely dispassionate blank look (all my concentration being used just to keep myself upright at that point).
Another story: I was attending a show in Shoreditch. The compere had replaced an errant act at short notice and was trying to jolly up the audience by getting selected members to play Musical Statues. Myself (despite my demurral) and three others were hauled up, music was played, and we were told to dance until it it stopped. Then we were to freeze. Eager to return to my seat, I carried on moving when the music finished and went and sat back down, eliminating myself from the competition. “I think the others moved a bit too” came a voice from the DJ booth - and the remaining contestants all sat down as well.
I’m not proud of these tales - I sound like a curmudgeonly old sod.
I was going to expand on the idea of sharing with the audience; or having a joke at an audience member’s expense, making them a figure of fun that a performer laughs at, inviting the rest of the crowd to join in; or prepared encores where the act pretends to finish the show and waits backstage for the audience to cheer for them… but I suspect that I have no particular point to make.
I have been in Edinburgh, though, performing a comedy musical with Miss Hypnotique for the Fringe. That had audience participation but anyone who was kind and brave enough to join us on stage had something cool to do. They could play the theremin, or throw custard pies, or unroll signs. People were still wary of us making a fool of them, though. Especially when the custard pies came out.
I did have some photos to illustrate this non-story but my phone crashed before I could upload them. So instead here’s a sign from a train I was on, banning Tardises.
http://www.forceofnature.cc/releases/?rid=FON31-2
This is a charity compilation by Force of Nature designed to raise money to benefit the victims of the earthquake and tsunami that struck Japan on March 11th 2011.
The track I’ve contributed is “Happy Endings”. I originally wrote this when I was living in Harrow in 1993. Nine years later, I remixed it, adding new melody lines and production.
And nine years after that I’ve recorded a new version again. There are elements of the original piece in there too. Maybe now it’s finally released I’ll regard this version as definitive. Or maybe in nine years time, when we’re all flying around in hover armchairs and eating vitamin pills on Mars, I’ll return to it again.
The compilation is varied and interesting and well worth a purchase.
The Rude Mechanicals (http://www.rudemechanicals.co.uk) did a performance at the Others in Stoke Newington and Miss Roberts wanted a minotaur to stand at the door, chained to a plinth. As the audience entered, they’d see this bull-headed nude man, painted gold, trying to non-vocally entice them into feeding him from a nearby buffet table, just out of his reach.
The reality was a little different and demonstrated perhaps how art can be compromised for practical concerns. A full coat of gold body paint was avoided, for fear of me leaving golden arse-prints on members on the audience as they brushed past me. The chain had to have a release mechanism on it, in case of a fire. The buffet table became a single fruit cake (something I can relate to). And for ease of access the plinth was moved away from the door. So I played the role of a naked man with gold paint on just his nipples and his bits, offering people slices of fruit cake. I did have a bull mask, though.
One lady made a point of spanking me whenever she went past - a good job I hadn’t put gold paint on my bottom, although having a flesh-coloured gap in the gold paint would have been amusing. And the culprit would have been easy to locate: check for the woman whose golden hand fits the non-painted handprint. It’d be just like the Cinderella story.
The night saw a debut showing of the video for Phylactery, which was recorded in January 2010 and is very close to being completed.
Towards the end of the evening the compere, a personable and plain-speaking young lady, asked me “is your [willy] still cold?” I launched into a spiel about body fascism: how I’m conscious of wanting to look my best by conforming to the cultural male aspirational standard despite the low temperature; how I also want to be genuine and comfortable simply being myself; and how by being relaxed in my nudity I could provide an example to others, striking a blow against the idea that our bodies can be judged and contempt encouraged by the expectations promoted by the advertising industry.
“No”, she said. “Is your [willy] still gold?”
Later, I went for dinner with the two film-makers and an English friend of mine who was in Cologne also. She’d recently started eating meat after years of pescetarianism, and cited the increased choice on menus as a large motive. She was looking forward to discovering what she’d been missing.
We sat at a Turkish restaurant - a kebab shop with tables and a nice mosaic, really. Guillermo, his friend and myself all had our vegetarian food served promptly and it was very tasty. My friend, keen to experiment, had ordered something unknown and had to wait a little longer.
After a while of watching the rest of us happily munching away on our tempting food - which must have helped her appetite - my friend was finally presented with her meal. It was a bowl full of a soupy substance, white and vivid orange, with small white lumpy bits in it. She reluctantly tried a mouthful and felt ill. We urged her to change her order, and the waiter grabbed a plate of lamb on rice from a nearby diner. “How about this?” I assume the diner was one of the staff and had had that treatment frequently, whenever the unwary were so foolish as to go off-road on the menu.
Guillermo’s website: http://artoutput.de
And rather tastier-looking examples of the dish are to be found here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manti_%28dumpling%29
The following day, I took part in a film project continuing the work of Gérard Courant. (http://www.guardian.co.uk/film/2009/nov/16/pass-notes-cinematon)
The film-maker was Guillermo Tellechea, assisted by a friend on loan from a Viennese art gallery. We met by Cologne’s monumental Cathedral. Its Gothic austerity was undisturbed by two blokes who were chained together at the neck and wandering around outside it, naked from the waist down. I’m afraid I encouraged them somewhat and got a fish put on my head for my trouble. A small revenge - I put the hankie I used to clean my head in the perpetrator’s pants (which were around his ankles). This was before I saw what a pest they were making of themselves with a silver-painted living statue. He eventually left his patch under a sullen cloud, with the two semi-nude loons teasing him. And I washed the fishy smell from my head in the fountain.
Anyway, the rules of the film project: each portrait is recorded on one three-minute black and white Super 8 cartridge, which is not stopped once it is started, and must play at normal speed. Only the subject is to occupy the frame (although passers-by are allowed).
Hypnotique was being filmed too. I won’t discuss the films directly (but will of course post a link when the finished project is up). It was interesting to me that her idea involved doing something interesting for the camera, and expressing herself, whereas most of my ideas were playing with the form. “Can I hold up a mirror to record the camera? Can I prepare large sheets of card covered in text and diagrams?” And so on. I’m very pleased with what I finally did. I resulted in an hour-and-a-half trip around Cologne in a vain search for confetti on a Saturday afternoon. Eventually we bought eight rolls of loo paper instead. As we left the supermarket, I saw a fellow having a wee against the wall. How amusing would it have been to have taken one of the loo rolls we were carrying, and to stand next to him with it when he finished? Although the idea occurred to me at the time, I preferred not to get a black eye.
The following evening, Hypnotique and I performed at the Artheater in Cologne. Outside, the large logo drew a distinction between the ART and HEATER part of the name, so I would refer to it as the Art Heater to the amusement of nobody. The upstairs lounge was rather like a bar from a 1960s sci-fi movie. We were playing downstairs, which was more functional, having plain black walls and a specially-constructed stage. There were multicoloured panels and a stylish video projection as a backdrop, though.
This show was the launch party for ‘You Lack Discipline’, available now on…
Itunes: http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/you-lack-discipline-beige/id392257121?i=392257133
and Discogs: http://www.discogs.com/John-Callaghan-Hypnotique-You-Lack-Discipline/release/2485942.
As with Devon, I found myself cranking the energy of my performance up to better transmit it. Also, I closed my set with two cover versions. The first combined Serge Gainsborough’s ‘Je T’Aime’ with Keith Harris and Orville’s ‘I Wish I Could Fly’… The Germans seemed to enjoy it. Then for ‘All The World Loves Lovers’ I had some fun singing in a voice akin to Glenn Gregory from Heaven 17, something I would normally never do for my own songs. The costumes and my occasionally frivolous stage manner may disguise it a little, but I want to genuine communicate and so sing in my natural voice.
The VU meter costume - which had its second outing at the Artheater - is an effort to create something interesting and iconic, without being self-consciously comedic. I mustn’t forget that the music is the most fundamental element of my act: indeed, it is my act. The theatre that I use to illustrate the songs should never be more memorable than my melodies and lyrics. Of course, I can’t dictate what parts of my show an audience member will enjoy and remember. But I can avoid the temptation to deliberately play for laughs to get a safe reaction, and thus undermine why I’m there in the first place.
The Cologne performance was organised by Bob Humid (http://www.bobhumid.de). I’m grateful to him for the efforts for setting up the show.
