Blonde Cobra by Ken Jacobs (& Bobby Fleischner)

with Jacky Smith & Jerry Sims

 

Jack Smith and Bob Fleischner started a couple of interrelated comedy/horror films together before abandoning them due to an inevitable falling out, at which point the film already shot (which wasn’t lost in the fire caused by Jack’s cat knocking over a candle) was given over to Ken Jacobs, who had had his own falling out with Jack but not so severely that they were unable to work on the sound track together.  They got together, Jack improvised, falling back on a lot of his usual routines (which is what Ken wanted) and they both played music from their record collections of old, familiar, and unusual tunes (among them Astaire & Rogers singing the Gershwins’ Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off,) and ended their former friendship on a productive note. 

 

I first saw Blonde Cobra in 1988 at the Whitney Museum of American Art on a double bill with Flaming Creatures.  Years later when I told my friend Jeanie (who had spent a lot of time with Jack during the last year of his life) that it was my favorite of the films that he appeared in but did not direct, she said that it was the film that seemed most like hanging out with him. 

I think Jacobs fully deserves credit as author of this movie.  The way he assembled it is distinctly his own, while the qualities his construction reveal are those of the object of his admiration: Jack Smith.  The use of the black leader for unexpectedly long periods as Jack continues babbling brings to mind Debord’s Howlings (Hurlements en faveur de Sade,) though less austere as well as reversed.  This is a perfect example of a movie as portrait.

Bow Wow Wow Casette and Vinyl Single Covers plus some Tabloid Photos

 

 

 

 

Myint Myint Aye (aka Annabella Lwin,) Matthew Ashman, David Barbarossa, and Leigh Gorman, working together for far too short a time as a band ridiculously and very pleasantly called Bow Wow Wow, made some of the most infectious pop music ever put over, while sometimes ripping off and concurrently bringing greater international attention to some very important South African musicians, such as Mahlathini and the Mahotella Queens.  These are some examples of their cover art work.  Of course Malcolm McLaren was responsible for a lot the ideas behind their music, including the especially charming idea of encouraging their fans to tape their music off the radio rather than buying it; and Vivienne Westwood (albeit a brilliant designer) had way too much to say about how they dressed.  Still, if they're remembered (and they are) the reason is that the music demanded ones attention and it was this small bunch of musicians who made it and carried it through.

 

 

Beardsley's Drawings for Wilde's Salome

These are those drawings that Beardsley made for Wilde’s infamous play, which in turn made his name.  Regrettably, Beardsley came to rue his association with Wilde, given the scandal that wrongly landed the great writer in prison.  If I remember correctly, after his release, Oscar went to France, and when Aubrey ran across him in Dieppe he snubbed him.  I suppose one must forgive the great draughtsman, as he was not at all well at the time.  In fact he was dying of Consumption.  A short time later Beardsley did his best to make it up to Wilde by having dinner with him in private. Of course it was this group of drawings that first brought Beardsley’s work to my attention, as they were very much in vogue during the late sixties, when I was an impressionable adolescent.  I’ve always marveled at how much he accomplished in so short a time and such poor health.