‘The artist Duncan Hannah died at his house in Cornwall, Connecticut, on Saturday, June 11, lying on his favorite bed watching the 1962 film Les Parisiennes, an obscure tale of bohemians, musicians, playboys and love-lost French ladies—everything he enjoyed, not the least the obscurity.
‘This charming riverside cottage was looking at its very best. It was recently remodeled by his paramour of 30 years, Megan Wilson, a leading book designer; it was also packed with his collections of paintings, drawings, films, clothes, model soldiers, boats and planes, vintage advertising signs, music, and books.
‘Hannah’s life was run on generosity, to every sort of person and their equally varied creative work. A self-confessed fan of the old Hollywood mode whose passions were wide as deep, Hannah was an eternally curious lover of culture, both high and low, and of people, both the lofty and the low, and this large love for the world was much returned by we who people it.
‘It would take a book to tell of all the famous and infamous folk who Hannah knew throughout his rich existence, not least during his rocambolesque youth of drugs and drink, and there is indeed just such a volume, Twentieth Century Boy, a selection from his 1970s journals that’s as addictive as his life from that era. It’s an outrageous page-turner where our hero is either about to drop dead of whisky and cocaine or do a line with yet another downtown celeb.
‘Hannah started early as a lifelong fan. Growing up in Minneapolis, he was suitably excited to meet the drummer Gene Krupa and to get a letter from J. Edgar Hoover, not to mention maybe spotting Nabokov while holidaying in Switzerland. He was given his first joint by Janis Joplin, and he chatted with John Berryman on the very bridge from which he would later jump.
‘Thrown out of the prestigious Blake prep school, he was already an acid-head and serious drinker as a teen. By then, he’d already begun drumming in various local bands, most prominently the Hurricane Boys.
‘It must be explained that Hannah was also strikingly, dazzlingly beautiful, a gorgeous youth, and always remained preposterously good-looking, with a widely celebrated head of hair untouched by age. He also knew how to dress.
‘Thus it was hardly surprising he became a well-known local figure studying art at Bard and only accelerated the legend, pedal slammed, when he moved in the early ’70s to Manhattan, where he became everyone’s dream lover.
‘A central Hannah paradox was that he had all the beauty, panache, fashion flare and gossipy wit that defined homosexual society of that place and time while also being the most committed of heterosexuals. Indeed, he was an obsessive fan of certain actresses and no mean connoisseur of continental cult pornography.
‘The other paradox was that this impeccably suited and tied English gentleman, who ranked on best-dressed lists authored by everyone from Anna Wintour to Glenn O’Brien, was actually a key participant in the birth of the New York punk scene. He was a mainstay of CBGB and Max’s, he drummed with Television, he hung out with Nico at the Chelsea, he was proffered coprophilic pleasure by Lou Reed, or he introduced the young Talking Heads to his friend ‘Andy.’
‘Hannah’s stunning looks and charisma made him a natural actor. The cinema he so adored loved him right back, and he made a memorable debut with Debbie Harry in Amos Poe’s film Unmade Beds and its follow-up, The Foreigner, attending the Deauville Film Festival as a bona fide star, even appearing on stage with Gloria Swanson, Kirk Douglas, and King Vidor. Hannah happily carried on playing curious roles throughout his life whether for the avant-garde director Andrew Horn or playing a murder victim in Richard Kern’s short film for the artist Lucy McKenzie. Oddly enough, Hannah played a pervy photographer in Art for Teachers of Children in 1995 and then a photography professor in Hellaware in 2013.
‘At twenty Hannah had been to London to see the debut of Ziggy Stardust, backed by Roxy Music, and even hung out with Kit Lambert at the Marquee, and rock ‘n’ roll remained a mainstay of his life, continually committed to going to see artistes young and old, famous or just starting, unstoppable.
‘In fact, since becoming sober in 1984 (his commitment to AA came mainly because it saved his life, but also because the group offered a chance to hear stories from its intriguing and sometime famous fellow members), Hannah’s life was pleasingly fixed to a certain groove, an altogether rewarding routine.
‘He loved his New York club, the Century Association, and he loved taking people there for lunch, not to mention proposing his friends for membership. He loved going to the cinema and watching films and new TV series at home, he loved listening to music and going to concerts, he loved reading and also writing, to the extent of his voluminous and carefully maintained journals. But above all he loved painting every day, almost without fail.
‘The sheer range of characters and anecdotes in Hannah’s life story, his impossibly vast ‘back-catalogue’ of counter-culture encounters and adventures, somewhat interfered with a proper appreciation of his unique oeuvre as an artist.
‘Trained initially as an illustrator, he worked for Warhol’s Interview and designed T-shirts for another great friend, Anna Sui. Hannah’s knowledge of art and its practical techniques was nonpareil.
‘As much an ardent Anglophile as he was a fanatical Francophile, he loved Sickert, Whistler, William Orpen, Vallotton, Vuillard, and a host of lesser-known names, from Henry Lamb to Rodrigo Moynihan and Boutet de Monvel. Hannah’s paintings were often compared to Hopper, but their subject matter was rarely as American, his taste running to vintage cars, romantic European cityscapes complete with mysterious poised encounters, and above all beautiful women, cult movie stars such as Nova Pilbeam or Leonora Fani. Notably striking is a recent series of imaginary magazine covers, some with amusingly invented titles, which are the subject of a forthcoming volume from Dashwood Books.
‘Hannah’s generosity to the world was most evident in his interest in meeting and cultivating new people. At 69, he seemed oddly younger than many he befriended, and not just thanks to his notoriously dark hair but his eternal twinkle, the smile of it all. Nobody who met him and was lucky enough to be treated to a dose of his magic would forget him, considering him an eternal friend or brother long after.
‘This politeness, the good-manners and old-world charm, might be considered a legacy of Minneapolis, but his democratic, demotic openness to everything and everyone was very Manhattan, more specifically the New York School of poetry he so loved. He was a close friend of such key participants as Rene Ricard, Joe Brainard, Larry Fagin, and Tim Duglos, and a regular participant at the Poetry Project events, as well as an artist-illustrator to numerous chapbooks.
‘How suitable it is, then, that he should be conjured recently by Gerard Malanga in a memorial poem: “Duncan, / I guess you’ve left a blank wherever your presence stirred. / Just the thought of you not wholly imagined, / like I won’t be running into you at the corner newsstand…”
‘For myself, heartbroken, I think of Walt Whitman, the great-grandfather of the New York School, master of love and generosity (those two words yet again), and his ending lines from “Song of Myself”: “Missing me one place, search another; / I stop somewhere waiting for you.”’ — Adrian Dannatt
____
Further
Duncan Hannah @ Wikipedia
Duncan Hannah’s Blog
Duncan Hannah at Castillo/Corrales
PICTURING DUNCAN HANNAH, Part I
Duncan Hannah interviewed in 1982 by Simon Lane
Remembering Duncan Hannah
My brawl with Basquiat (and other wild nights in No Wave New York)
‘Duncan Hannah and Anna Taylor (1981)’
Duncan Hannah’s Seventies New York
Duncan Hannah works @ Paddle8
Duncan Hannah @ IMDb
‘The lady vanishes: Nova Pilbeam’
‘Le dandy Duncan Hannah’
‘Spotlight On Artist Duncan Hannah’
__________
The artist in his youth
___
Extras
Paradigm Presents Rear Window with Duncan Hannah
Trailer: ‘Unmade Beds’ (1976), starring Duncan Hannah & Deborah Harry
Trailer: ‘The Foreigner’ (1978), starring Duncan Hannah & Deborah Harry
An Afternoon With… Duncan Hannah
Inside Andy Warhol’s Interview Magazine with Duncan Hannah
____________
Interview about Twentieth-Century Boy
by David Gordon
You didn’t look at these diaries for twenty years, right?
More. I never read them—six feet of journals. What finally happened was, I’ve got a friend who works for [rare-book dealer] Glenn Horowitz, and he saw them and said, You know, we could sell this. I thought, Oh, fuck, I should read them first, at least. And I should mine them for natural resources, because I have no idea what’s in there. So in the spring of 2016, I stopped painting, I got Microsoft Word—I think I got a new laptop, even.
I started with the first intact one, winter of 1970, because I thought, Okay, that’s good, it’s a new decade. But really with no ulterior motive other than to keep a copy of something I was going to sell. There was all this LSD drivel, just stream of consciousness. And then there’d be a nugget of a funny story and I’d go, Oh, that’s good. Some of it I remembered, some I didn’t, but it did start to come alive.
The list of people you wrote about is amazing. I guess, right off the bat: Lou Reed. Was that the first time you met him?
And the last. I mean, I’d see him around, but he didn’t recognize me. But that song, “Rock and Roll,” I first heard it on an FM station in Minneapolis, driving in my car, and it was an epiphany. Euphoria. Such a rush. So when I saw him at Max’s Kansas City I thought, That’s the guy! What happened was a great lesson in the dangers of hero worship.
What happened?
There was this small room downstairs with a velvet rope, so you had to stick your head in and see if somebody waved you over. I was sitting with [Stooges and Ramones manager] Danny Fields and Fran Lebowitz, who was nineteen and just the same as she is now, funny and grumpy. She got up to leave and Danny said, Louis! Louis! So Lou Reed came over, Danny introduced me, and he didn’t pay any attention. He started talking about this and that, he wanted to kick Lester Bangs’ balls in, he’d just seen Peter Wolf and Faye Dunaway fucking at the Chateau Marmont while he was with Iggy, he’d just auditioned the MC5 drummer for his band, you know, just kind of Lou Reed stuff. Then he started talking about Raymond Chandler, and that summer I’d read all of Chandler. I thought, Oh, I can talk about this. So I said, “Yeah, I love that, and that bit he actually cribbed from Hammett, except it wasn’t in The High Window, it was in The Little Sister.” And this just stopped Lou in his tracks and he said, “Danny, she’s talking.” And Danny said, “Yeah, she talks.” I felt chastened, so I shut up and he went on, and then I did it again, I said, “Oh! I know! And then there’s that great switch!” And he said, “Danny, she’s doing it again.” And Danny said, “Well, she’s a big reader.” And he said, “Where did you find her?” “I found her at the Waldorf. The New York Dolls had a Halloween party.” And I was thinking, Okay, so they’re talking about me like I’m not here, A. And B, I’m a she! And I thought, Oh, well. What do I know? This is their clubhouse and I’m just a visitor. I’ll see where this goes.
And where did it go?
Danny got up to get cigarettes, and “Walk on the Wild Side” came on and I said, “Hey, do the ‘doop-de-do’s with me!” And Lou Reed said, “Are you fucking kidding me?” And I said, “No, come on.” So he started doing it! We were going, doop, de, do, de, do …” And then he just started laughing, like he was incredulous. Then he said, “You look like David Cassidy. Do you like David Cassidy?” And I said no. And he said, “I do.” And he said, “Do you belong to Danny?” And I said, “No, Danny’s my friend.” And then he said, “I’ll tell you what. I have a hotel room nearby. Why don’t we go there and you can be my little David Cassidy? Would you like that?” And I said no. And he said, “Well how ’bout this? We’ll go there and you can shit in my mouth. Would you like that?” And I said no. And he said, “How about I’ll put a plate on my face and you can shit on that and then I’ll eat it? How would you like that?” And I said, “Yeah, I wouldn’t like that.” And then he just stared at me and said, “You’ll be missing me tonight,” and left. I was just sitting there thinking, Wow, that was so not what I thought was going to happen. Then Danny came over all excited and said, “Lou’s in love with you!” I said, “How do you know?” He said, “I just saw him in the men’s room—he told me.” I said, “You know what he just asked me to do? He asked me to shit in his mouth!” And Danny said, “Didn’t you want to?” And I said, “No! What’s wrong with you people?” So that was my introduction to Lou Reed. He was going through a bad time, I guess.
Do you want to tell me about meeting Dalí? It was such a funny story but I was confused about the end.
There is an end to it, which I couldn’t put in, because I heard about it ten years later. I was at an Interview magazine Valentine’s Day party, and I was really drunk. Amanda Lear, who was Bryan Ferry’s girlfriend, came over to me. She was blond, looked like a European movie star, and she sat next to me and started scolding me, “Dahling, you’re so drunk.” Anyway, she was part of Dalí’s entourage and would I model? I said, “Sure,” in my drunken way. A week later she called and said, “Meet me at the St. Regis and you’ll meet Dalí.” So we’re having a drink in the Old King Cole room and it was happy hour, so it was crowded with tourists and wealthy businessmen, and suddenly in the doorway in a gold cape was Dalí with his eyes bugged out and his crazy mustache. And the noise in the bar went down. And then he proclaimed, “Dalí is here!” And it went silent. So he strides over waving a cane around, completely preposterous. And Amanda says, “This is Duncan Hannah.” So he sits down next to me and says, “Yes! So you are going to be an angel for Dalí.” And I said, “Sure.” And then he said, “But wait! Do you have hair on your chest?” And I said, “No, I don’t.” He said, “Ah, this is good. Dalí does not paint angels with hair on their chests.” And then he said, “But wait! Are you a professional model?” And I said, “No, I’m not.” And he said, “Ah, good! Because Dalí does not paint professional models.” And then he said, “But then what is it that you do?” And I said, “I’m an art student.” And he said, “Ah! Then you love Dalí!” And I said, “Oh, yeah, we’re all crazy about you down at art school,” which was a complete lie because everybody just thought he was kitchiest, worst painter ever.
Then Amanda took me up to her room. She was changing for dinner and it was dark and she was toying with me like a cat with a mouse. She gets down to her underwear and I’m thinking, What’s going on here? Then the phone rang; it was Bryan Ferry from Toronto, and I just adored Bryan Ferry, and I could hear him saying, “Who’s there?” “Oh, just a beautiful boy …” And he’s going, “What beautiful boy?” And I was thinking, Bryan Ferry’s jealous of me, yay! But then she had to go, Rod Stewart was sitting in the lobby. She called the next Sunday and said, “You have to come up to my room to watch The Ballad of Cable Hogue.” I said, “Sorry, I have to do my homework.” And she said, “This is Amanda, baby. When Amanda snaps her fingers, you come.” And I said, “I know, but I still have to do my homework.” Then she got really mad, saying, “This is it, unless you get up here right now”—which seemed like stud service—”you can forget about modeling for Dalí!” So I said, “Fine, I’m not coming.” Bang!
So anyhow, years later I had a new friend who was very campy, and he mentioned modeling for Dalí and I said, “What? Were you enlisted by Amanda Lear?” And he said, “Yeah, it was complete bullshit. I went up to their suite. There was Dalí sitting in the far corner. But it was all about Gala, his wife. She had me stand on a desk and strip down to my BVDs and there were all these hangers-on milling around being fabulous but Gala was the only one who was concentrated on the model, the angel. And she goes, ‘Why don’t you masturbate, dear boy?’ ” He was creeped out by the whole thing. He said, “I ain’t jacking off for you, lady!” And so he got down and put his clothes back on and said fuck you to everybody. And I said, “Did you even get paid?” He goes, “No! It was supposed to be fifty bucks, but I wasn’t going to jack off for fifty bucks for this old bag.” And that was the thing: all this modeling for Dalí was about Gala’s voyeurism. Because he was … I don’t know what he was.
You’re such a good observer even though you’re young and starstruck. Like with Andy Warhol, at one point you say, “I don’t think he knows he’s Andy Warhol.”
I noticed that he just deflected everything, like it was all about you. He just projected out. And I thought, That’s it! He just removes the Warhol from Warhol. I mean he never was given to reflecting on his past, or even his present, he was just like an antenna or something, a receiver.
___
Show
Small Sorrows (2005)
Winter is Blue (2011)
Lee Remick as Temple Drake (2010)
Thames Valley (2010)
The Second Mrs. DeWinter (2007)
Punting on the Cam (2010)
The Loom of Youth (2011)
Nova Sleeping (2005)
Love’s Young Dream (2005)
Prince & Princessa (2009)
The Mystic Twig (2009)
The Weekend Mystery (2008)
By the Sea (2010)
Dora (2010)
Gamine (2010)
Isabelle (2010)
Bugatti 1924, Cap-d’Antibes (2011)
Nova (2005)
John and Jane (2007)
En Route (2007)
Europe (1980)
Misadventure (2011)
Air Boat (1996)
Blowup (2004)
Little Angel (2005)
Mykonos (2009)
Upper Fifth (2009)
Monica’s green coat (2011)
Orpheus and Eurydice (2008)
Regarding Rosemary (2006)
The Ascent (2012)
Spy Story (2008)
The Green Hat (2003)
The Partisan (2013)
The Shipwreck Boys (2004)
The Shipwreck Boys in Yorkshire (2006)
The Shipwreck Boys on Regents Canal (2008)
Fireflies (2013)
*
p.s. Hey. ** politekid, Hey, O! How lovely to see you! You’ve had the ‘Out 1’ experience. Rite of passage, that one. And you’re still sparkling. I’m good. Uh, gosh, life has been pretty fully ‘RT’ related and impacted by a visa thing I have to apply for, gulp, and little else, honestly. But life will return to a more random-like thing to some degree post-premiere, I think. ‘RT’ is submitted to a London film festival. Not a ton of hope it’ll get in, but we’ll show it in London for absolutely sure. We’ve just been too busy to figure out what the options are. But, yes, count on it. Sad state of affairs that it took two years to get you a subscriber, but surely word of mouth will have you going viral and sorry you ever volunteered for such a thing soonish. You generally good? How are your projects going? Ace to lock texts with you, pal. ** _Black_Acrylic, Haha. Oops, Surely the loss is a mere blip and fluke. Sorry, though. But still. ** Misanthrope, Awesome! Don’t be deterred. ** jay, Hey. I like how when you get to the big reveal at the end, you can go back and see all the signs of it coming. Dude’s poker face was not very persuasive. Angel surgically … so just the expected implanting of wings and maybe some ‘beatific’ sculpting facial surgery and so on? I can’t wait for you to see the film too. We’ll sort it. Hope I’ll get to see you again pre-liftoff. ** James Bennett, Thanks, James! Gosh, I hope so on the premiere success. It’s a strange film, but I think likeably so? We’ll see. That is exciting news about the DIY press! Great! All the encouragement possible from me re: that. ‘Inland Empire’, yes, so true. If I don’t get to see you again pre-vacation, I hope your weeks ahead are super rich. ** Nick Toti, Hi, Nick! Oh, wow, it’d be really nice to see you there. I’ll know my schedule, whatever it is, better after I land and check in with the festival planners, so hit me up after Friday, if that works. And ideally I hope to see your screening. Nice, man. ** Dominik, Hi!!! I liked how he couldn’t quite manage to hide his ‘evil’ no matter how hard he seemed to be trying. Thanks so much about the film. Gin Wigmore … you’re introducing me to all sorts of brand new (to me) entities. I’ll go listen. (Are) we in love like I think we be?, It Ain’t a long rhyme, It took ages to think, I think I’ll hurl it in the water, baby…, G. ** PL, Hi there. Wow, memorable first kiss. Nice that it was so complicated. Nice to be in charge. Hm, no, I don’t remember my first kiss. Must’ve been pretty glancing or something. Huh. ‘Strait-Jacket’, oh, right. I agree about her performance off the top of my head. She was definitely best when she was ludicrous. I can’t remember any jokes about my work. I guess they weren’t very funny, or they were behind my back. I think my work is ripe for jokes? I do like House Music. I don’t wilfully play it much at all, but I like when I’m somewhere and it fills the air. You do, I’m safely assuming? ** James, Blog returns your hello. Glad he riled you up. Or glad to observe the results of your riled up-ness. My parents didn’t read, and our ‘library’ was full of books they bought in bulk at thrift stores intended to make them look like they read, but I did find ‘Ulysses’ wedged in there at a tender age. Dennis is actually my middle name, legally. My egomaniac dad gave me his name, and I ended up being called my middle name to distinguish us in conversation. Bowling, nice. I hope to go bowling when I’m in LA. Lightest ball possible, please. I think I like every nut, but maybe not much almonds. Yes, I suppose consistent is a better term than hard. How does one ‘kind of’ look like someone in a painting? Whoever said that must have been afraid to commit to his opinion. Have an exploding day. ** Steve, Hi. Um, it would be good to meet with distributors in LA. I’m not sure. Yes, the Mahmoud Khalil arrest is deeply shocking and horribly unsurprising. I hope he has good lawyers because that really seems like an illegal act, as if that even matters these days. ** Bill, Hey. Today I start packing and making lists and checking things off. Hopefully our airships will pass safely. I must say I don’t feel the usual confidence in the US air traffic controller scene these days. Nice, I’ve never seen Joy Williams read except on video. I don’t think she’s very known over here. Easy preparations, and I’ll write to you pronto. ** Steeqhen, Feel better. I don’t know any of these TV shows. I really just don’t watch TV. It’s too much of a whirlpool for my busy brain. Okay, yeah, email me then. The festival is at the beginning of April, but I’ll get to it as soon as I’m post-that. In normal times, that does seem like a very good angle to get funding. And it’s probably inoffensive enough to be an attractive funding option even in the current world. Sounds great. ** Joshua, Hi, Joshua. It’s great to meet you. Thank you so much for coming in here. And thank you for the kind words about my work. You played ‘Eternal Darkness’? Such a great game. I wonder why they haven’t spruced it up for Switch. Wow, you were right there, proximate, for the Chardon shooting. He was a particularly spooky shooter. Thanks for wanting to come to the premiere. Hopefully we’ll be able to start getting the film out and out from here on. What are you up to? What do you do that interests you? ** P, Hi. Yeah, the passholders, whoever they are, get first picks on the events. Hopefully there aren’t too many of them or too many that want to see our film. I’m a bit worried that the screenings wil sell out extremely fast. Haha, ridiculous thing to worry about, I know. Being a hardcore amusement park nerd, I know about Little Amerricka, at least in a general way. Wow, that haunted house looks really nice. My type of haunt. Thank you, that was/is exciting. The park looks sweet. One of Zac’s and my plans is to do a big East Coast/Midwest US road trip targeting as many amusement parks as possible, and that one will get a pop-in if we do. That’s a wild story there, the John Wayne ->. I’ll read the articles when I’m out of p.s mode, thanks. You’ve helped my day start on a tasty note. ** HaRpEr, Oh, maybe yeah, hm. Agreed, and I think J.T. is a perfect example, as far as I can tell. I’m happy you liked the Kay Gabriel book. She’s a really special writer, I think. Me too on the trying to survive the month thing. With the trip west and a bunch of film finishing expenses, I’m very skint as well. But, like you my feet seem to know how to land in such a way as to keep me going. Very best of luck. What would you sell if you have to? ** Darby𓃰, Howdy, D. I will very happily eat Pho with you. Way yum. Let me know what your overall thoughts on ‘FoKA’ once you get there. I’m rarely awake at 3 am because I need a lot of sleep at night, but, yes, I have walked around at that time, and there is nothing quite like that silence. Well, except maybe how it was over here all day every day during the Covid lockdown. That was really, really trippy. If I don’t get 8, or at least 7 1/2, hours of sleep at night, I’m a wreck. I listened to the start of the Labyrinth Ear track, and, yes, I like it. I’ll finish listening a little later. Thank you! ** Justin D, Hi, Justin. ‘Guide’ is the novel of mine that’s most set in my actual real life at the time. With the obvious exaggerations. So, yes, your reading makes sense. Thank you for the song. I’ll hit it shortly. Lately I’ve been listening mostly to the new Destroyer album and the new Sparks album and the latest GbV album. And the other day I fell into a Byrds hole snd listened to ‘The Notorious Byrd Brothers’ on repeat. ** nat, Hey. Thanks about the teaser. It was hard to pull something out of the film, but I love that little scene. The boy (Desmond) was so amazing. An unresolved disappearance is certainly an ultra-novel-worthy premise or area. Exciting to contemplate. Why not start with ‘Less Than Zero’, yes. It’s excellent. Hm, I think my favorite Mario game is ‘Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door’. What’s yours? ** Corey, Hey. No, other than it having been made before I made the gif novels, I don’t think it fed that work. It was more from the thematic gif posts I was making for a while. Yes, spend a bit of your month making a guest post. That’s a capitol idea! ** Okay. Today the blog becomes a galerie consisting of paintings and words and other things by the artist/writer/actor Duncan Hannah who sadly died too young a few years ago. See what you think. See you tomorrow.
Now available in North America 
Hi!!
I’ve always found Duncan Hannah incredibly charismatic and beautiful. And his paintings have this almost unmistakable atmosphere. Thank you so much for this post!
That’s really interesting – “evil” was not my first impression of T.J. Lane. I had the same thought when I first saw photos of him and when I went through your post yesterday: he looked so absolutely undisturbed that it seemed incomprehensible, considering the circumstances. I can accept the fact that he didn’t feel any remorse, but he didn’t seem upset about his own fate either. Then, of course, he leaned into his “evil” image with the shirt and the middle finger…
Syd Barrett was another crazy-charismatic person. You keep sayin’ you’ve got somethin’ for me, Somethin’ you call love but confess, You’ve been a’messin’ where you shouldn’t’ve been a’messin’, And now someone else is getting all your best, Od.
Dennis, I think Joe Mills would’ve loved this day.
I shan’t be deterred. It’s a thing now!
Thanks, Big D.
I have read DH’s memoir Twentieth-Century Boy and I loved it to bits. Got a lot of time for the guy’s paintings too.
It’s a giddy feeling, being at art school and living your best life. Something that really comes across in the book.
Superficial of me, but that starting pic is really flattering. Very good looking :/). I’m always amused by English place names in America, too – that there’s a Birmingham which isn’t my Birmingham, a Cornwall which isn’t my Cornwall, etc. Oh, get in, rocambolesque, that’s new. What luck, to get a Hoover letter and a chat with Beryman. Cooool. I’m kind of jealous of people who get thrown out of prep schools, because I’m the kind who’d suck right up to whichever prestigious academic institution with pathetic loyalty and conformity. Tragic that he was heterosexual, truly :'( Television mentioned! And Nico! I listened to These Days before going to sleep last night. Such lovely hair, such a looker, squee. Embarrassing fanboying over someone I have literally hitherto never heard of or seen. And meeting Dali, whaaaat. Like how do some people live these lives where they meet so many big names?! And I’m afraid when I saw the art my first thought *was* ‘that’s Hopper-y.’ I do love the fancy Englishness to some of these pics, though. Some of these remind me of the kind of country manor I’ve been taken to on days out. Of which England has tooooo maaaanyyyy. Really awesome stuff. Interesting and nice to look at. Like Hannah! Duncan Hannah is such a perfect name. A loss. Smashing post.
Yo, D-Dawg. I (THIS FUCKING KEYBOARD, WORK DAMN IT AAARGHH) type this (WITH SOME FUCKING DIFFICULTY) with my jumper inadvertently tucked into my trousers in a way which has been described as ‘stylish,’ but I think it looks dumb. But this matters not. And my third? second? third, I think, mug of tea is precariously balanced on my blanket-covered right knee. Because life is nothing without risk! I wave my hands amiably at the blog, as always. A hi-five or two, if it wouldn’t mind x)
It’s pretty hard for me to not get riled up in some way at another person who kills another person. I mean I like verbally philosophically farting on about how morals are subjective and man-made and how good and bad don’t really exist, and stuff, but some things throw all that abstract nonsense out the window and make me say ‘well, that’s just not on, that.’ And murder is one of those things. Obviously some cases of killing are maybe ‘less horrific’ or ‘less unjustifiable,’ whatever, than others. Like if you kill a murderer that’s probably ‘better’ than killing a puppy, or what have you. But it’s 11:45am on a Tuesday, and the ethics of killing is beyond me and my comment. But happy to help with amusing riled-upness. The last time I had to debate something like this was back during religious education at GCSE level. It’s funny to me, in hindsight, how the UK curriculum throws big questions like ‘is euthanasia acceptable?’ at 15, 16 year olds, just to give them, like, 12 marks. I think on one of my papers I remember trying to condemn and condone war. With like, the most botched, limited reasoning. But I’ve got my A so, bleh, whatever. A Levels matter more now. ANYWAY –
I’m so grateful to have a family that reads. Or read. My father, grandmother, mother don’t read as much as they used to. They tell me that, like, ‘when you’re my age, you’ll understand,’ and they predict that I’ll read less. I can only see myself reading more when I’m older, because, IDEALLY, I’ll have more time to myself, without having to work for exams in multiple subjects, being ”’retired,”’ maybe even, even though that is like NEVER going to happen, probably, unless the UK economy has this miraculous turnaround during my lifetime. But having parents who buy books in bulk, even if they don’t read them, better than no books at all, definitely. My family has… three? Copies of Ulysses between us, I think? Maybe four. Of course, all unread by me. ONE DAY.
Oo, I didn’t know that. I personally really like James, as a name. So many cool people are called James. I was watching Live and Let Die last night, and laughing my arse off. Also what I didn’t remember was this totally fucking bizarre death scene where the villain gets blown up like a balloon, flies up, hits the ceiling, and pops. I had no memory of this. My brother and I were literally just speechless. It’s funny, absurd, but sickening, too. Like, genuinely disturbing, seeing the blowup doll they used. Freaky stuff. I had unnerving dreams last night, involving holes in my hands I couldn’t get rid of. Really unpleasant. Genuine relief when I woke up to find my hands as normal. I don’t know if anyone in my family has/had the same first name as their parent. Oh yes. Another mug of tea made. Currently in the kitchen. Shall return to sofa. Am on the sofa again. My middle name wouldn’t quite work as my first name, I don’t think. But it sure does for you (0_0)b
Last time I went bowling was on a Monday, with my brother, grandmother, and best friend. I had a great time. I danced and screamed along to Katy Perry’s I Kissed A Girl. Which I listened to this morning, too. And the woman still suggested I’d eventually have offspring. Come on, gran. Honestly. I’m crap at bowling, imagine you’d wipe the floor with me. I always want to go see how slippy the lanes get. I can just about manage the heavy balls. I will not make a joke about that. One time I dropped a bowling ball on my foot. That hurt. Nothing broke, to my knowledge. Presumably because I was wearing those silly shoes.
Almonds, hm, I don’t have them as their own thing much. But almond flavouring tends to crop up. Quite like marzipan. I don’t like walnut flavourings, though. Or is it chestnut. Hm. I’m no nut connoisseur, alas. But save for pistachio, when I see nuts in desserts I just think ‘why?’ and get disappointed. Like Snickers are SHIT chocolate bars. RUBBISH. In my opinion.
Consistency over intensity. Or maybe consistent intensity is the way to go. Writing really pisses me off sometimes, man. I’ll go ages with nothing or middling efforts, and then there’ll be a sudden spurt! Woah! Writing comes easily! 2000 words cranked out, which feels fun and exciting and like I don’t totally hate it! And then *fart* whatever I’ve started stops flowing, and trying to progress feels like poorly gluing, shoving stuff onto a preexisting, better thing. MOST irksome.
The painting I apparently vaguely resembled was a Struys, Peut-etre, this – https://mdl.artvee.com/sftb/240644fg.jpg – link, please work. He just said that it ‘kinda looks like you but short hair.’ My hair’s not quite as dark, and I’ve more of it. But it’s a similar kind of shape, sort of. The hairline and mahoosive forehead are accurate. I don’t play violin, though. More acne and stubble, of course. When I saw that painting I thought ‘dude looks like David Tennant.’ It’s the face. And my eyes are blue, not that dark. So I can’t blame his not being totally committed to his opinion. Some parts of the painting look a bit like me, others don’t. I don’t commit to opinions a bunch. Definitely not in class.
Boom. Totally loving my day off so far. Home alone. Slept in for an hour. Study wasn’t. The most focussed. I’ll admit that. Because I got sidetracked looking at archived ye olde gay magazines. And last night, conversations joking about piss led me to discover this forum where people just. Post pics and vids of themselves wetting themselves. Which is standard enough, fetish-wise, I s’pose. It’s nice, I think, that these kinds of communities can form. Things which others might call ‘weird’ or whatever can bring similar people together. Even if the main intent is probably sexual arousal. And I’ve had a couple entertaining exchanges, courtesy of my beloved internet. Hope your day blows up in the right ways, too! I want to finish this novel I’m reading at the moment, because if I finish a novel and have time left in the day, that usually leads to me getting some decent writing done instead of just a few hundred half-hearted words. And lunch approaches. Lovely weather. Such a good day, aaa! See you tomorrow. :]
P.S., Steve, I hope things are alright, with doctors and stuff. I’ve a fair few books about gay guys but I like to think I’ve sufficiently hidden them across my various bookshelves, camouflaged beneath other books, with inconspicuously turned-around-so-they-can’t-be-read spines, and covered covers. To my knowledge my rooms and their contents aren’t being rummaged through. I’m lucky enough to have parents I can relatively openly talk with about novels with gay content. Coming out is, so, like. Hm. Straight people don’t ‘have’ to tell their family ‘I’m straight.’ Probably because heterosexuality is what’s assumed, annoyingly. Hm. Ramble ramble. Best with your Tuesday and your week! :]
Man FUCK the link T_T. The painting is Peut-être (1875), by Alexandre Struys, so, Google away, I guess
Lovely paintings, thank you for sharing. This person isn’t someone I’ve come across before, so, really interesting to see. I always really like these digital-looking traditional paintings, with heavy block colours and posterised look.
Hmm, with the “Slow Damage” angel surgery, it’s more amateurish – I think it’s a failed project for the sadist, so it doesn’t look particularly good. It’s basically just the grafting of two ornate metal rods onto the main boy’s back, without any additional refining of the representation. Here’s an image of that moment, although I think the weirdly translated prose is almost the most interesting part of that whole segment. Anyway, I think it’s an order of magnitude more interesting than Dramatical Murder, which was their other big hit, although that may just be because it’s got less adorkable ephebian love interests, and more angsty middle-aged guys with nasty intentions.
Anyway, made some amazing progress on my dissertation too – I’ve had a glitch that’s been bothering me for a week or so, and I finally stamped it out, which definitely makes everything around me seem much more manageable. I agree, somewhat, about the school shooter showing all the signs of nastiness – but then again, if you didn’t know the ending, or context, I wonder if you’d still see any of that weirdness in him So, so glad to hear Room Temperature is going to be screened in London, I’ll 100% get a chance to see it then. Anyway, love from here, hopefully see you sometime before your liftoff.
P.S. HaRpEr, if money is tight, you’re very welcome to drop a PayPal or Kofi link or something – I’ve had a big payout recently, so I’d be very happy to contribute.
Jay, I don’t know what to say. Thank you. Ordinarily I really would refuse but I really don’t know what I’m going to do. I read your comment earlier and I’ve not known what to say, but I’ve been having such a nightmare. It’s so hard to find work when you’re visibly trans and look like I do and I’m trying to scramble together enough for rent and I can’t go to my parents. They’d kill me, and they’re in the same position as me anyway. So thank you thank you thank you! However small a donation goes a long way. I have a kofi:
https://ko-fi.com/harperstringer
Of course, down the line I would like to reciprocate. And if there’s anything I can do for you now or in the future or just want to talk or something then I’ll be around.
P.s. Oh cool, I’m working on my dissertation too. Well, since I study creative writing it’s a creative piece, but they still call it a dissertation. Mine is due at the end of next month. I’m going to keep going, though and get it to at least 30,000 words, or as many words as necessary. The assignment only calls for 10,000 words but I’m going to string it out into a short novel. I’ve been working on this other book for over two years but that’s such an intense undertaking that I think it’s a better idea to focus my efforts on this current thing for the meanwhile. Anyway blah blah blah.
By the way, I think you’re cool. I’ve been meaning to say hi to you for a while but I was too nervous.
It’s no problem at all, I’ve been in scary financial situations like this before and it’s always a nightmare. The job market is so awful, wishing you the best of luck for that. I’ve got no idea of the order of magnitude of money you need, so I’ve sent 50 quid over, but if that’s just a drop in the water I’m obviously happy to chip more in.
And please, no need to reciprocate, honestly. I have a semi-large online following too, so if you want me to signal boost a mutual aid donation post, I’m more than happy to. I’ve been following your description of your dissertation actually, it sounds incredibly interesting. If you do feel like you need to reciprocate, I’d totally love to read it whenever it’s done? You’re very, very cool too, best of luck with everything!
Oh, thanks so much! No need to chip more in, everything you’ve done… I can’t thank you enough.
Yeah, I’ll let you know if I make a mutual aid post. I’m really seeing what I can do about quick sources of revenue, but if that fails I may have to. And yes, I’d love to share my dissertation with you, and I’d of course love to read yours too when it’s done, if you feel like sharing it.
There’s an emergency with my parents, who no longer seem to be capable of living on their own. I will be traveling to their house on Friday, probably staying for 6 days. I’ve already booked an appointment with our lawyer for next week. I am utterly freaking out, and I have so much planning to do before I leave!
PS: I spoke to my dad, who was more coherent then I expected. I’ve bought train tickets. To protect my sanity, I’m gonna avoid dealing with the situation till tomorrow morning, but then I will call protective services.
Hiiiii Dennis
Of course you know about Little Amerricka! If you can, you should definitely go. There is another small amusement park up north in Green Bay but it doesn’t have as much character .
Glad you found the John Wayne story amusing . Not much to report today or maybe I’m just not thinking hard enough. I am starting a new book , City of God by Gil Cuadros. Its been getting passed around my house and I’m the last to receive it. Heard nothing but good things so I’m excited. Yay reading is fun! Hahaha
Have a great day!
P
( I was wondering if you have ever had anybody pretend they were somebody else in here
? maybe making up a whole persona for some reason… I guess its bad to assume, and you never really know … but just wondering ok ok that’s all byeeeee )
hi whats up! ive been going back to my habit of writing a poem a day (or writing a poem one day and editing/revamping it the next day). i read ‘hour of the star’ today and was really fascinated most of all by the relationship between ‘the girl,’ the character macabea and the writer narrator. the kind of necessary hollowness to put so much into a glimpse of something that’s not real as a writer felt like the essence of the book to me. was that something that stood out to you too or was this just me? i think that sentiment is also a big part of my fascination with dolls and stuff. semi-related, i keep having these really interestingly structured dreams always connected through me traveling after something happens but i can never remember enough to fully get it down on paper once i wake up. thats frustrating. the thing ive been working on for a while now is just another story, its a little intimdiating to work on since i need it to have this very precise compressed and direct sense of time which is complicated since inside its three stories intertwined with each other. i have the very barebones structure of it but i might sketch it out a little bit more to make myself feel more ready before jumping into it. hoping youre doing well as always. xo.
okay all my fingers crossed permanently for the next three months that that london film festival knows what’s good for it and gets you on board. give me some names and i can hire heavies to go round and make sure it happens. i forgot to mention before that my uni has a ridiculous movie theatre — it’s quite small but it’s a great place, and it has this weird microphone set up so you can hear everything that everyone is saying, even if they’re whispering right at the opposite end of the cinema, it’s honestly a paranoiac wonder — and i know they’d be thrilled to host you if everything falls through. but i’m sure you’ll get the bigger fish to bite
my life is currently v boring, frankly. i need to make an effort to be messier. friday my mum had (very minor) surgery so i spent eight hours in a hospital coffee shop, which is its own peculiar vibe. this hanging around with the Out 1 screening achieved a pleasing aesthetic unity this weekend i feel. before that i was proof-reading a PhD thesis by — do you remember that nb marxist i fell hugely embarrassingly in love with about two years ago? theirs. which was fine, but took me an age longer than i thought it would. today i was working at the bookshop — no viral success for my subscriptions yet but i agree surely it must be coming — was a v quiet day. i’m reading Neuromancer. have you ever read it? i know you aren’t a huge sci fi person but it is Burroughs/Acker adjacent.
and my projects are…….. hm. well the PhD is going along, i’m on track, the money stops in the summer and then i just coast without a stipend for a bit. but my supervisors are happy and i think i might actually have something to say. other projects aren’t “going” especially. there’s a big performance text thing i need to write for Mhairi Vari, the artist i collaborate with, but i’m procrastinating wildly so i need to carve out some time for that this week. and i’ve been doing a lot of lustful and envious gazing at novels i haven’t written or read.
good luck with the visa thing too — i mean i’m sure it’s whatever but as long as it’s not a headache-inducing whatever. what else have you got planned in LA?? (i saw zac posted on instagram about kali malone playing on saturday?)
Hey. Oh, I have some books and records I may try to sell. And clothes, lots of clothes. I have an overflowing wardrobe of things I don’t wear anymore. I told you before that I have a stash of signed mediocre novels which I have for the sake of investment. There are certain things I really can’t bring myself to part with, though. I’m in a nightmare right now, but when I’m out of it I’ll undoubtedly be thinking about the loss of my treasures for the rest of my life.
God, that sucks that you’re having problems too. L.A. sure ain’t cheap. Neither is London, hence my dilemma. The way I see it though, is that all of the big museums which I spend a lot of time at are free entry, so I trick myself into thinking that it evens out (which it doesn’t).
I watched Bertolucci’s ‘Luna’ which I remember you said was one of your favourites of his. I loved it. That scene where the mother thinks he’s kissing a girl and she turns the corner and sees the needle in his arm… beautifully framed. And the ending where the sun sets mid scene.
I’m surprised by how hated it is, obviously the subject matter is heavy, but it’s not visually oppressive(?) in the way that certain films which have dealt with similar themes are. It’s a film that actually has a very fascinating tone. Whatever, I guess the reception is to be expected.
I remember there was another Bertolucci film you said you’d recommend. I think it was ‘The Conformist’. Is that one you like?
I too took ‘Ulysses’ off of my parents’ shelf at a tender age. It’s a thick book so they saw it was missing on a shelf but 1.) they didn’t expect me to understand any of it so weren’t bothered about the sex scenes 2.) hadn’t read it, so were unaware of its contents. When I was fourteen I took a Henry Miller book off of the shelf. A few pages as well as the cover had a strange brown crust on them, so the thought that I’d stumbled on my father’s masturbation material sort of scarred me for life.
Wow, what a cool life Duncan had. Those paintings are gorgeous, and I looove that picture with Talking Heads + Andy especially. There’s some spectacular footage on Youtube of the early Heads playing The Kitchen that I find myself returning to often, and I imagine that picture was probably taken around the same time frame. Pre-Brian Eno Talking Heads had such a unique, anxiety-ridden sound.
I love Eternal Darkness! Probably one of the first games that truly scared me, the way it messes with your head. You don’t really hear it get brought up much these days, which is sad. I would love to see that game (and many other GameCube titles) on the Switch. Maybe Nintendo will port them over for the Switch 2?
I got an admin job at my old college alma mater recently. They have an arts outreach program that allows the local community to take music lessons, dance classes, theatre workshops, stuff like that. I used to be a student in the program when I was little, so it’s kind of like a full circle moment.
I’ve been exploring all the ins-and-outs of the job these last few weeks, while still maintaining some fun projects on the side. I studied piano in college, and regularly play music gigs around town. I’ve also recently been trying to put together a multimedia zine of sorts with a friend (they studied film in college), but the concept is still rather rough around the edges. I love collaborating with others, so hopefully we’ll be able to pull through and make something really cool.
Great to talk with you!
Hey, Dennis! Thanks for the deep dive into Duncan Hannah. I have to say, the way he died is sounds pretty exemplary—I hope to be that lucky when it’s my time (in bed, watching films). Wow: the Lou Reed proffer… This evening, I watched ‘Teorema’, which I enjoyed, but also found unintentionally quite funny. I had the same issue with ‘Salò’: beautiful cinematography, but sort of silly, really. I’m also trying to convince my bf that feeding our neighbor’s cat every day isn’t really our place (it’s from a nice home and is obviously fed), but his well-intended savior complex tendencies make it hard to fault him. Other than the film festival stuff in LA, do you have anything else you want to do/see? Also, the kindness among the blog’s patrons is really heart-warming. 💖You have really lovely fans!
That picture of Duncan Hannah in the high waisted pants has made me want to change my entire wardrobe for over a year now. It’s so so good. Enjoying my time here. Don’t get much phone time in between talking to my friend’s family, which is very pleasant. In case I don’t get to talk to you during your month away, I shall collate everything and then write it out at once (that way I can filter out insignificant stuff). The Guibert inversion project is what it sounds like: just as he wrote about a friend (“Bill”) who promised to save his life and didn’t, I’m writing about the people whose lives I could not save. It’s pre-material. Enjoy your day generically!
*bark* I just got back from a walk in the park in which I had to bark back at some entity that started barking at me like the sound was coming just from where I had walked and I in refusal to be punked barked back and it did and I did and kept walking in like call and response till I walked home feeling fine and deciding no more night walks through that park lol. thats the most exciting thing so far aside from all my website new editions on magic and anima stuff check it out here ( https://closedpractice.univer.se )and get your copy of my book if you haven’t yet. I remember my first website was scratching. at this so to see the final vision is rest worthy so I will what was for dinner and ill brb ttylxox. its saying duplicate so hum omg you said your phone doesn’t get into the bigger world but has a camera so do you take selfies and stuff and pics for the day if not you should is my advice.