derek jarman - a tribute, part one
This is not the tribute that I planned, that will be on film if I ever manage to organise myself, and work out what I want to say, and how. This is a tribute, to be posted in as many parts as it takes. This first part is more or less selfish, and scene-setting. The next part will look at how I began to appreciate Derek Jarman's work.
I did a lot that was stupid in 1989. Perhaps the stupidest thing was to write a letter to The Face defending Guns ‘n’ Roses. No, wait, there is more. I defended the metal buffoons in a dumb, offensive letter. Attempting to both satirise my own attitudes, at the same time as defending a band I loved, what I wrote was homophobic, borderline racist, and downright stupid. It was the kind of nonsense you regularly see attacking the straw man of ‘political correctness’. I am deeply ashamed of it.
I could argue that I was confused, that I grew up in a village in the middle of nowhere, that I did not know anyone non-white, non-heterosexual, or physically and mentally challenged. All of which is true, but not an excuse. The truth is that I was a theoretical liberal and libertine, but not quite either in practice. I attempted to write in a way that could be understood by people without sight or without hearing. I was aware of transgender individuals. I was appalled by racist and misogynist jokes, and by casual racism and misogyny. I had experimented with both hetero- and homo- sexuality. I found the kneejerk hatred of asylum-seekers and travellers inexplicable. And yet at the same time I would still use sexuality as a barb to attack people verbally, I would mimic accents in a mocking way, and I could still countenance listening to Guns ‘n’ Roses One In A Million despite the words ‘Immigrants and faggots/They make no sense to me’, even if they did make me feel uncomfortable.
Incidentally, I have never been a libertine. I am both too physically and mentally controlled, and have too much of an awareness of the effect of my actions on others. Liberal is probably closer to the truth, but I still do, say, and think the occasional stupid and/or offensive thing. But I think that will be true until I die.
Which extended apologia is to explain that we are never unified, whole and unchanging, and that the stories we tell about ourselves are just that, stories. They change over time, and as it suits the situation. So I could claim that I was always a great fan of Derek Jarman, that he had a transformative effect on my life, and that I championed him against philistine hordes. In truth I was not very aware of him until Caravaggio got a lot of coverage in the Radio Times, at that age would have been very uncomfortable with the homoerotic content of his films, and was much more interested in heavy metal than arty films.
To address an obvious point that may have one or two of you snickering, I am aware that metal, like a lot of hip hop can be extremely homoerotic. But to a lot of the audience the attraction is less to do with the eroticisation of another, as an identification with another. You aspire to be like someone, not to fuck them. Some people obviously desire both, some people just like hot men, others like myself at that time just want to feel empowered. Identifying with someone who appears to have money, confidence, adoration, and every whim catered for is an attractive fantasy. That is one reason why Guns ‘n’ Roses appealed to me in a way that Derek Jarman did not. Another reason is that enjoying their music required no effort on my part, I had no work to do, I could simply go along for the ride. Jarman’s films required that I make a little more effort, and my artistic tastes and personality at that age were far too childish.
I cannot remember now when or how the change occurred, and how I moved from being the person who wrote asking something like ‘are black, lesbian wheelchair users politically correct enough?’, to the person who sat listening to Blue when it was broadcast, and found it a transforming experience. Some of it had to do with trying to find out who I was, and at times actively creating that person - associating with anarchists, attempting to understand other points of view, actively challenging my own opinions. Some of it was undoubtedly a kind of liberal sentimentality about a high profile individual succumbing to AIDS-related illness despite their talent (as though that were ever a shield). Some was probably just getting older and more comfortable with myself. But also having direct experience of seeing how quickly and how devastatingly the virus could destroy somebody. But the rest, the day-to-day detail, is lost.
You should not suppose, however, that this was a great moment of enlightenment, and that thenceforth I became an acolyte of Jarman's. That I tracked down and devoured his work with eagerness. Like a lot of important experiences I filed it away, largely forgot about Jarman himself, and went on to the next sensation. I did not watch Blue, or any of his films for a long time after that. I did not read any of his books until either the late 'nineties or the early part of this decade. I knew next to nothing about his gardening, and I was completely unaware even that he was a painter, let alone what any of his paintings looked like. Blue was important to me, although I had only listened to it, and beyond that I was very much ignorant.
More soon.
.
I did a lot that was stupid in 1989. Perhaps the stupidest thing was to write a letter to The Face defending Guns ‘n’ Roses. No, wait, there is more. I defended the metal buffoons in a dumb, offensive letter. Attempting to both satirise my own attitudes, at the same time as defending a band I loved, what I wrote was homophobic, borderline racist, and downright stupid. It was the kind of nonsense you regularly see attacking the straw man of ‘political correctness’. I am deeply ashamed of it.
I could argue that I was confused, that I grew up in a village in the middle of nowhere, that I did not know anyone non-white, non-heterosexual, or physically and mentally challenged. All of which is true, but not an excuse. The truth is that I was a theoretical liberal and libertine, but not quite either in practice. I attempted to write in a way that could be understood by people without sight or without hearing. I was aware of transgender individuals. I was appalled by racist and misogynist jokes, and by casual racism and misogyny. I had experimented with both hetero- and homo- sexuality. I found the kneejerk hatred of asylum-seekers and travellers inexplicable. And yet at the same time I would still use sexuality as a barb to attack people verbally, I would mimic accents in a mocking way, and I could still countenance listening to Guns ‘n’ Roses One In A Million despite the words ‘Immigrants and faggots/They make no sense to me’, even if they did make me feel uncomfortable.
Incidentally, I have never been a libertine. I am both too physically and mentally controlled, and have too much of an awareness of the effect of my actions on others. Liberal is probably closer to the truth, but I still do, say, and think the occasional stupid and/or offensive thing. But I think that will be true until I die.
Which extended apologia is to explain that we are never unified, whole and unchanging, and that the stories we tell about ourselves are just that, stories. They change over time, and as it suits the situation. So I could claim that I was always a great fan of Derek Jarman, that he had a transformative effect on my life, and that I championed him against philistine hordes. In truth I was not very aware of him until Caravaggio got a lot of coverage in the Radio Times, at that age would have been very uncomfortable with the homoerotic content of his films, and was much more interested in heavy metal than arty films.
To address an obvious point that may have one or two of you snickering, I am aware that metal, like a lot of hip hop can be extremely homoerotic. But to a lot of the audience the attraction is less to do with the eroticisation of another, as an identification with another. You aspire to be like someone, not to fuck them. Some people obviously desire both, some people just like hot men, others like myself at that time just want to feel empowered. Identifying with someone who appears to have money, confidence, adoration, and every whim catered for is an attractive fantasy. That is one reason why Guns ‘n’ Roses appealed to me in a way that Derek Jarman did not. Another reason is that enjoying their music required no effort on my part, I had no work to do, I could simply go along for the ride. Jarman’s films required that I make a little more effort, and my artistic tastes and personality at that age were far too childish.
I cannot remember now when or how the change occurred, and how I moved from being the person who wrote asking something like ‘are black, lesbian wheelchair users politically correct enough?’, to the person who sat listening to Blue when it was broadcast, and found it a transforming experience. Some of it had to do with trying to find out who I was, and at times actively creating that person - associating with anarchists, attempting to understand other points of view, actively challenging my own opinions. Some of it was undoubtedly a kind of liberal sentimentality about a high profile individual succumbing to AIDS-related illness despite their talent (as though that were ever a shield). Some was probably just getting older and more comfortable with myself. But also having direct experience of seeing how quickly and how devastatingly the virus could destroy somebody. But the rest, the day-to-day detail, is lost.
You should not suppose, however, that this was a great moment of enlightenment, and that thenceforth I became an acolyte of Jarman's. That I tracked down and devoured his work with eagerness. Like a lot of important experiences I filed it away, largely forgot about Jarman himself, and went on to the next sensation. I did not watch Blue, or any of his films for a long time after that. I did not read any of his books until either the late 'nineties or the early part of this decade. I knew next to nothing about his gardening, and I was completely unaware even that he was a painter, let alone what any of his paintings looked like. Blue was important to me, although I had only listened to it, and beyond that I was very much ignorant.
More soon.
.
Comments
i'm not very familiar w/ Jarman, but unaware, i did see Caravaggio & it is a tremendous film, it affected me quite deeply. so now learning that, i'm intrigued to see Wittgenstein esp. as T. Eagleton was somewhat involved.
I don't think this was just awkwardness on his part, he held historically accurate costume drama in the same contempt as I do, added to which his eyesight was beginning to fail, and resources were extremely limited. If you want (as a reviewer on Imdb apparently does) an historical drama, swooping cameras, lavish locations, and a detailed exegesis of Wittgenstein's life and ideas then don't even try to watch the film, or change your expectations. If you want something that uses a very basic visual palette, that tries inventive ways of exploring some complex ideas (the Martian), that concentrates on sexuality and problematic relations with other people, and features another astonishing performance from Karl Johnson as the adult Wittgenstein, then this is your film.
Speaking of Karl Johnson, he's one of many actors who Jarman seemed to get the absolute best from. So often I see people either unknown outside of Jarman's movies, or well-known to the wider world, who give by far their most compelling performances in his films. Johnson is also great as Ariel in Jarman's version of The Tempest. One person told me that they found it lacking in emotion, I didn't feel that, but I know what they meant. Personally I think that may actually be a fault of the original play, and the way in which it was written. In Jarman's hands it remains a beautiful fantasy, a coming together of mutually different societies, who in other (normal) circumstances would find each other hopelessly perverse. But instead of conflict and repression there is celebration. And yet still Prospero doesn't seem to want any part of it.