Voodoo Rooms, Edinburgh
3 stars
When Germaine Dulac premiered his film, The Seashell and The Clergyman in 1928, playwright Antonin Artaud, who penned the half-hour short’s original scenario, is said to have heckled the screen, going so far as to call its director a ‘cow.’ If such confrontational behaviour sounds a precursor to punk’s assault on culture half a century later, a new score to the film by former Siouxsie and the Banshees bassist Steven Severin is all too appropriate.
Making his first ever solo appearance, Severin performs Music For Silents, a compendium of soundtracks for both Dulac’s film and six contemporary extrapolations of the surrealist spirit which follow. Black-clad and sat stage-left with his lap-top on a table in front of him, Severin provides a very 21st century version of the silent movie accompanist responding to the images onscreen. Which, in The Seashell and The Clergyman, concern the erotic fantasies of a priest lusting after a general’s wife, with all the associated sexual symbolism and requisite maid’s uniforms one might expect from such an artifact.
Severin’s electronic twinkles move from moodily sombre to more playful piano runs for the chase scenes. The second half of the programme plugs into similar ambient dynamics to accompany everything from black leather voyeurism, fairground sideshows and explicit animations, all mixed up with visual collages and optical illusions. Seen in the speak-easy confines of a Saturday night Voodoo Rooms, it’s a treat to see Severin’s new direction treated so seriously. It’s a shame such a unique event wasn’t tagged with next week’s Diversions season of experimental cinema at the nearby Filmhouse. Either way, the avant-garde underground looks safe in Severin’s hands.
The Herald, May 5th 2008
ends
3 stars
When Germaine Dulac premiered his film, The Seashell and The Clergyman in 1928, playwright Antonin Artaud, who penned the half-hour short’s original scenario, is said to have heckled the screen, going so far as to call its director a ‘cow.’ If such confrontational behaviour sounds a precursor to punk’s assault on culture half a century later, a new score to the film by former Siouxsie and the Banshees bassist Steven Severin is all too appropriate.
Making his first ever solo appearance, Severin performs Music For Silents, a compendium of soundtracks for both Dulac’s film and six contemporary extrapolations of the surrealist spirit which follow. Black-clad and sat stage-left with his lap-top on a table in front of him, Severin provides a very 21st century version of the silent movie accompanist responding to the images onscreen. Which, in The Seashell and The Clergyman, concern the erotic fantasies of a priest lusting after a general’s wife, with all the associated sexual symbolism and requisite maid’s uniforms one might expect from such an artifact.
Severin’s electronic twinkles move from moodily sombre to more playful piano runs for the chase scenes. The second half of the programme plugs into similar ambient dynamics to accompany everything from black leather voyeurism, fairground sideshows and explicit animations, all mixed up with visual collages and optical illusions. Seen in the speak-easy confines of a Saturday night Voodoo Rooms, it’s a treat to see Severin’s new direction treated so seriously. It’s a shame such a unique event wasn’t tagged with next week’s Diversions season of experimental cinema at the nearby Filmhouse. Either way, the avant-garde underground looks safe in Severin’s hands.
The Herald, May 5th 2008
ends
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