So, as you've noticed, I haven't posted since Valentines Day! No, I didn't get sick for weeks from leftover chocolates, and no, I wasn't sobbing for lack of a Valentine to share said candies with. I was, however, on set for two student films here at NU in back to back weekends: Under Water, directed by my good friend Rosalie Sangenitto as a senior project, and The Ballad of Barbara Allen, an ingenious screenplay written by my friend Ursula Ellis and based off of the old folk song. Both were incredibly exciting to record sound for (because what else would me and my headphones be doing on a film set?) and I can't wait until the next stages of production begin.
Getting through the long film hours was made possible in part by Radiohead's new album, King of Limbs, which I gave repeated listens to since my last post and have come to appreciate for its brevity, experimentation and lulling resolve at the end of long days on set.
Despite my excitement over the new album while shooting, I have been filling my post-set recovery week with Joni--yes, Joni Mitchell, the one and only Canadian folk rock singer/songwriter that could bring my mother (and grandmother) to tears
with wonders like "The Circle Game", "River" and, of course the frequently covered "Both Sides, Now". Most everyone recognizes the iconic wash of color over Joni's face on the artwork for the 1971 album, Blue. As a young singer/songwriter of the early 2000s, Joni is still among the biggest influences in my music. The earnestness in her open tuning, airy and warm vocals and even her pale, almost spectral appearance in photos and recordings from the 1960s allow her melancholy harmonies to echo through time as I look for inspiration. I wouldn't even say that she has the best voice but the honesty and full emotion of every melancholy lyric is heard perfectly. Her lyrics are obscure and restrained, hiding their weight behind beautiful poetry so that even when she talks about dark and complex topics, she retains an incomparable innocence.
For a long while, Court and Spark has been my favorite album of hers from the days of her jazz experimentation with the title track and "Car on a Hill" among my favorite tracks. Recently, however, I listened to Clouds through from beginning to end. Clouds was Joni's 2nd studio album released in 1969. The album contains "Chelsea Morning" and "Both Sides, Now", both of which had already been covered by Judy Collins and had generated signficant buzz this way before being released by her. Listening to the album from start to finish, I can clearly see how Clouds is a stripped down precursor somewhat to Ladies of the Canyon, and very much to Blue. The Fiddle and the Drum is the rawest example of Joni's earnest songwriting with its single a cappella line of vocals, ending the album with little resolve. There is not much attention to production quality, and there might even be a plosive or two that the microphone picked up subtly. After the two harmonizing voices of Songs to Aging Children Come and luscious descending melodies, the final song is puzzling and beautiful.
I am sure there will be more on Joni to come. For now, I'm off to see Iron and Wine at the Riviera downtown--can never get enough folk.
Peace.Love.Music.
Kara Ali
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