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Good Songs Everyday
If you’re a big fan of my regular feature Good Song Sunday, you should cruise on over to Feministing, where they recently ran a list of videos of queer and women of color activists talking out against that behometh, the military-prison-industrial complex.
This is part of their regular feature Feministing Jamz, which is basically what Good Song Sunday wants to be when it grows up.
Good Song Sunday: Eva Cassidy "Songbird"
We’ve had a LOT of rock and roll on this feature, so today it’s time to sloooooow it down with the honey-voiced, jazzy songstress Eva Cassidy.
Cassidy started singing and playing guitar at the age of 11. Although shyness kept her from performing solo until she was older. She also worked as a plant nurser, furniture painter and did scultping, painting and other artsy fartsy work.
And that face! Via.
Cassidy’s vocals are clear, pure and spine-tingling beautiful. Her range is not Mariah Carey-see-sawing but still impressive and her music is perfectly balnced so as to not be TOO old-peoplely/smooth-jazzy or poppy. Frankly, she should be coming out of the 30s or 40s, not the 90s.
I picked today's song because it highlights all those attributes, as well as being the soundtrack to perhaps the most romantic scene in Love Actually.
If you do not think this is the most romantic moment...well, you are wrong. Via.
Much like our post on Hedy Lamarr, this has a sad story: Cassidy was diagnosed with intense melanoma in 1996 and died less than a year later at the age of 33. After her death her music gained more recognition outisde of her native DC, including charting in the UK and a number perfromed by Michele Kwan to her cover of “Fields of Gold.”
If you’ve ever only heard Sting do that song, you owe it to yourself to hear Cassidy’s version. And just try not to tear up.
More than 5 Friday: Marion Nestle
More than 5 Friday is the backbone of this blog: a weekly feature that highlights an awe-inspiring woman in history who has yet to become as well known as she should.
In one of my classes as an undergrad, my super-smart and hilarious professor went off on a weird, thoughtful tangent, in which he spoke movingly about polyglot Noam Chomsky. He ended it with (and I'll probably remember this forever), "Do you know how lucky we are? In a hundred years, people will wonder what it was like to be alive when Noam Chomsky was alive."
Noam Chomsky aside, it's always a nice refresher to remember that we are, as Carly Simon sang, in the good old days. Some day, people will be having "2014" parties and lamenting about fashion because jeans and tshirts is just so much more dignified and how did we get our hair to look like that? Just the way we do now with early 20th century life and ideas:
Sigh. Such happier, simpler times. Via.
In addition to Mr. Malcontent, today's post is about another person we're lucky to see in action: Marion Nestle.
Via.
Despite the name (and the photos of veggies), our Nestle has nothing to do with processed food behemoth Nestle. In fact, if anything, we could call her the anti-Nestle.
Not the Nestle we're talking about today. Via
Starting in the 70s, Nestle stumbled from molecular and cellular biology into nutrition. In prepping for a course that was foisted upon her, she read inconsistency after inconsistency as well as realizing that most of the knowledge we had about vitamin requirements came from experiments on prisoners! After that, as she herself has said, she was hooked.
Much like Michael Pollan, Nestle has become a huge advocate for organic, sustainable, small-scale food systems. But she's like Pollan if her were also a communist rebel armed with a (artisan) molotov cocktail. Nestle pulls no punches in outright condemning the food industry for irresponsibly putting Americans at the crossroads of choosing between "horrible" and "less horrible."
"I don't have a very happy message for the food industry. I think they've been given a free ride in marketing for a long time now, and that free ride is now over and it should be over, particularly the marketing to children, which I think crosses an ethical line. They can't all grow in a competitive marketplace. They have argued for years that this is a matter of consumer choice. Well, consumer choice is going to come back and bite them, and that's just how the system works." Via
If you've ever seen a food documentary--Supersize me, a PBS special, Food Inc, or a half dozen or so others--you've seen this woman with an acid tongue, a ready laugh, a bubbe's face and the brain of Chomsky. She's also written several books, all aimed with taking big food down a notch and helping the everyman navigate a world increasingly out to trick you.
Via.
Even better, this nonstop powerhouse blogs at the SF Chronicle, the Atlantic food channel, tweets and has her own blog.
Lest you think this is some bourge issue not befitting great scientists, how food is produced and promoted has ramifications in climate change, antibiotic resistant infections, species extinction, government subsidies and healthcare costs, not to mention fracturing along class divides, so that the poorest continue to have access to poor foods, while the richest eat a completely different diet.
Food, in this case, can be seen not only as what sustains us as individuals, but what sustains us as a culture, as a species, as a planet.
me and littleange1fuck at Slutwalk today~
Woohoo! Spotted on Tumblr: Modern-day riot grrrls! Long live Kathleen Hanna!
Movie Madness
While I have no idea what Grolsch Filmworks generally does, what I do know is they have a comprehensive, kickass list of films featuring Girl Gangs, ranging from the bitches of Mean Girls to the activists of India to the trollops of Troma and killers in many genres.
Seriously, check it out! Most of these I haven't even heard of, but they all sounds amazing. Plus anything that encourages you to memorize and utilize Heathers quotes cannot be anything other than incredible.
Perhaps my very favorite part. Via.
One glaring omission, Grolsch: The take-no-shit, out-for-revenge ladies of Tarantino's Deathproof:
Via.
Good Song Sunday: Amanda Palmer "Dear Daily Mail"
Good Song Sunday highlights new and old songs from women that are rockin’ hard and makin’ no apologies (usually old because I’m an old).
Love her or hate her (and plenty of people do), today’s musician is Amanda Palmer. The tremendously prolific Palmer has a sharp tongue, put to both lyrical, blog-ical and come-back-ical uses, and an octopus-like approach to projects, books, blogs, a band or two (the Grand Theft Orchestra, Evelyn Evelyn and Dresden Dolls), solo work, performance art, TED talks, Kickstarters…Whew!
She’s inexhaustable, fearless and one hell of an unapologetic feminist. Which is encapsulated in nothing better than this performance/song as a response to a Daily Mail article. It’s long, but totally worth it to watch the whole thing.
PS. Fun fact? She’s married to another kickass artist: author Neil Gaiman.
More than 5 Friday: Hedy Lamarr
More than 5 Friday is the backbone of this blog: a weekly feature that highlights an awe-inspiring woman in history who has yet to become as well known as she should.
In addition to all that gritty warring and punk-rocking, history enchants because it has a lot of glitz and glamour. And nothing quite enchants in that particular way like Old Hollywood: big eyes, beautiful faces, over-done acting, graceful outfits and tragic endings. How can you look away?!
Well, look away no longer because I've got the epitome of complicated, underrated, beautiful, tragic actresses: Hedy Lamarr.
Via.
Lamarr was born in Germany as Hedwig Kiesler and started her acting career at 18 with, err, a bang. She pranced about naked and, decades before Meg Ryan, simulated an orgasm on screen in a flick appropriately called "Ecstasy."
Scandalous! Via
The 18-year-old was also married to a controlling husband with Nazi ties, who actually attempted to buy up all the reels of Ecstasy in an attempt to prevent people from seeing it. (Clearly, he was also not that smart. As anyone who ever was or knew a teenager knows, banning something just makes it more appealing.)
Lamarr escaped her unhappy marriage, generally, as the story goes, by disguising herself as a maid. She met the super-famous, super-powerful Louis B. Mayer in Paris and was soon whisked to Hollywood, where the name Hedy Lamarr was born to break her associations with the unsavory film that gave her her start. There, she hit it big playing various ambiguous, exotic characters.
Via.
In addition to her movie roles, Lamarr managed to get married six times, have three children (two by her womb, one by adoption) and, most impressively, co-invent a frequency-hopping mechanism, which basically made it harder for enemies to jam signals (such as those sent out by torpedoes or radios) by changing the frequency between the transmitter and its receiver. In addition to its war uses (particularly during the US blockade of Cuba), Lamarr's invention laid important beginning work on such delightful modern technologies as bluetooth and wi-fi connections.
All thanks to a Hollywood starlet. Via.
Despite all of this amazingness (and that face!), Lamarr's later life was less happy. After a flop of a comedy, her career seriously declined. She was arrested for shoplifting twice, the second time resulting in her being booted out of a movie in favor of Zsa-Zsa Gabor.
In her last years alive, she became increasingly isolated and lost in the past. She had extensive and erroneous plastic surgery in an attempt to recapture her looks of yore and, in her later years, communicated solely by telephone. Which just goes to show you that Sunset Boulevard and the Twilight Zone are not exaggerating.
You have no idea how hard it was to find a picture of Hedy Lamarr as old and crazy and I doubt this even captures the half of it. Via.
But this crazy tale of meteoric rise and crash is not all she left behind. Lamarr also wrote a biography, which, in addition to an amazing title, is full of breathy, queeny bon mots.
Via.
“I would tell anyone who wants something from someone else to feign not wanting it. People are perverse. If you show great affection to them, they'll run the other way.”
But perhaps the best?
“Any girl can be glamorous. All she has to do is stand still and look stupid.”
Fightin' words!
It may seem incongruous but I LOVE action movies and for a very good reason: I've never seen myself as the dippy, arm candy. I've always put myself in the shoes of the hero. From Braveheart to James Bond, I AM the lead.
Which makes this article--proclaiming that Viking marauders were also, in fact, women--super exciting.
Via.
OK, so many things they got wrong (Vikings were absolutely more like settlers than pillagers), but it's still a really cool find and really challenges the notion that, up until a 100 years ago or so, history was totally a boys' game.
Better Disney Princesses
I am not one to scoff at Disney princesses. Growing up, I loved Ariel from LIttle Mermaid (she got to swim all the time), Belle from Beauty and the Beast (she liked to read, like me) and Mulan from Mulan (my siblings and I found the training montage song hilarious).
And yet, their influence faded as I realized, man, princess life must be boring. Not so, according to this internet-time-waster article that offers up a roster of alternate Disney princesses who were anything but boring.
Via
From servant-to-Sultan Sajar-al-Dunn to WWII spy Inayat Khan, the list is a little spirit-twin of this blog. (Although, let my objection be noted: Lolita is not a femme fatale. She's an abused child glorified by the obviously unreliable Humbert Humbert. Read the classic literature before ascribing motives to its characters, people.)
Good Song Sunday: Patti Smith "Land"
Good Song Sunday highlights new and old songs from women that are rockin’ hard and makin’ no apologies (usually old because I’m an old).
Patti Smith is almost so incredible, I feel like I should save her for some special occasion. And yet! If you don't know Patti already, there's no time to lose!
Patti Smith is this intense, androgynous, poet-rocker-writer whose music manages to combine lyrics worthy of a stodgy English class with raw, unfiltered rock-n-roll that bands like the Sex Pistols or the Ramones should be envious of...And her performances? Pure art.
Billy Idol wishes he could do this. Via.
Patti had a life and a half as a youngster--she gave up a kid after getting preggo as a teenager, then moved to NYC and lived as an artist with the Chelsea set, most notoriously Robert Mapplethorpe.
Age has not slowed her down. She wrote a memoir, which is incredible, and continues to perform and write. One of my favorite things about her is her consummate love of music, she's covered everything from Tears for Fears to Rihanna.
Via
Through it all, she's remained unshakingly herself: a curious and polyglot artist with a kind heart, prolific in vocals and verse. Out of all her work, I've picked "Land," a powerhouse song with all her stylistic wryness and rhythm that builds to an insane, rock-n-roll crescendo. If this doesn't get your heartbeat going faster, you're probably not alive.
(One special PS: A high school boyfriend used to call me "Patti" and ever since, I've had an abiding connection to her.)
You you you oughta know: Dr. Ruth Westheimer
You you you oughta know highlights a woman most of us have probably heard of, but could use a refresher to remind us of their badassery. And if you don’t know, now you do. (P.S. Yep, totally an Alanis reference.)
Although it’s been about 20 years since her radio and television heyday, Dr. Ruth has a lasting impact on how we, as a culture, think about sex, therapy, and the times the two intersect. She’s a tiny (4’7”), outspoken, grandmotherly type with a thick accent who talks frankly about sex. It’s really not an exaggeration to say the Sex and the City (as well as everything that came after that) would not be around without Dr. Ruth’s frank, friendly chats about getting it on (her words!)
Via
Even before becoming a cultural icon, Dr. Ruth had so many adventures, it’s like she’s led several lives, not just one.
Now 86, Dr. Ruth was born in Germany and shipped to a Swiss orphanage after her father was arrested by the Nazis. She remained there until the end of the war, corresponding with her mother and grandmother until their letters mysteriously stopped.
Post-war, and upon learning of the death of her family, Westheimer immigrated to Palestine. She joined the army, was trained as a scout and sniper (!) and was seriously injured in the Palestinian War of Independence in 1948.
Via.
Two years after that, she moved to France, where she taught psychology in Paris. After six years, Westheimer bored of Parisian life, I guess, married an American and moved to New York City, where she still lives—in Washington Heights! She remained married to her husband until his death and has two children she raised before becoming a radio personality (although during this time, she also got an MA in sociology from The New School and a Dr from Columbia’s Teacher College.)
If you’re unfamiliar with her work, or could use a brushup, her entire Family Encyclopedia of Sex and Sexuality is free online. But—trust me!—check out her videos on YouTube: She's got a whole channel, where she continues to answer questions in her hilarious and informative way.
One of my most endearing memories is of watching Dr. Ruth with my friends in their dorm in my freshman year of college, as this woman used wooden artist model dolls to demonstrate positions a women could use to have sex with her exceedingly obese partner.
Oh man, I just realized that that memory is of watching Sue Johansen, another grandmothery, sex therapist with a TV show, this time of Canadian extraction.
Consider it a two-for-one?
Good Song Sunday: Destiny's Child Independent Women
Good Song Sunday highlights new and old songs from women that are rockin’ hard and makin’ no apologies (usually old because I’m an old).
I generally feel that Beyonce is awesome, but needs little more ink than she already gets. I mean, yes, yes, yes, she's a queen, does she need my voice to prove it more?
But, of course, the VMAs performance cannot go without a mention.
Via Time (which has a cool run-down of other awesome performances.)
But lest you be surprised by this, it's important to remember that before Beyonce was a solo artist she was in one Destiny's Child, a girl group extraordinaire that produced such hits as "Say My Name" (calling out a cheating boyfriend), "Survivor" (an I'm-not-just-going-to-make-it-I'm-going-to-thrive anthem) and "Bills, Bills, Bills" (cutting off a sour boy who's been soaking up momma's money, a precursor to "Irreplaceable.")
Via
They also wore matching outfits. It was the 90s.
But perhaps the best one of theirs is "Independent Women." Very similar to the "Single Ladies," this song exhorted women to hold their hands up but in this case, it was for all the honeys who make the money and all the women who truly independent.
It was--and is--a fantastic song: men were out of the picture, all the diamonds were bought by Queen Bey herself, the video features an all-women boardroom and--oh yeah!--it was a tie in for the Charlie's Angels reboot.
This song was big when I was in the Jr. High-ish age and as much as I lament missing being a teenager in the grunge era, it wasn't a bad time to come of age: post-Spice-Girls, pre-Wrecking-Ball, a little bit of hard-earned, strong women's voices without slut-shaming or backlash.
Good things Beyonce's still around to keep us in line.
More than 5 Friday: Louis Andrews Fischer
More than 5 Friday is the backbone of this blog: a weekly feature that highlights an awe-inspiring woman in history who has yet to become as well known as she should.
Most of these posts so far have been hard to write because, with a small amount of Googling, you can find so much information about the women of the day, that the challenge is picking what to write about.
Today, however, is an exception, in that Googling reveals almost nothing about this artist extraordinaire, which makes her all that more relevant for this blog.
But first! Some background...
As most everyone in the world knows, New Orleans plays host to a hedonistic bacchanalia around February and March every year known as Mardi Gras.
Via
Beer, booze, beads, boobs, crowds and crowds of people and parades of elaborate, over-the-top floats.
A small, understated float outside of its natural Mardi Gras habitat to highlight just how elaborate and fantastical these structures are.
Via.
Mardi Gras is a big party, but also a BIG business (it brings millions of dollars into Louisiana annually), BIG tradition and BIG ritual. In addition to the revelry, Mardi Gras has traditionally boasted social clubs, or Krewes, which create the floats and hold fancy-pants balls. The Krewes variously also do charity work throughout the year and elect a Rex and Queen of the ball. It's basically like the Kiwanis or Lions, if they included women AND went totally, insanely, beautifully nuts once a year.
And all of this has been happening for hundreds of years. For example, check out this Queen, circa 1929, a Miss Jane Westfeldt, of the Elves of Oberon Krewe:
Or this one, from five years earlier, Emily Haynes of the Comus Krewe:
All photos via me (hence the badness)
I love both these photos and what they reveal about the Queens: I love their bare shoulders, the short flapper 'dos and the fairy-realm crowns (especially that second one!). I love the way these socialites have strong stares and, lest you not know, the actual physical strength to carry a train that long! I guarantee you that under the dress in that first one is a special metal armature to hold up all that fabric, embroidery and beadwork.
In addition to the gowns and crowns, artists have annually designed scepters, robes, girdles, chest plates and those crazy, ever-elaborate floats.
And that is where today's artist comes in. Say hello to Louis Andrews Fischer:
Via me again!
Louis (named for her father, not actually a misspelling of "Louise") had one of the longest careers as a NOLA Mardi Gras artist. She started designed while still a student and, in addition to working at a design company for over 50 years (!), designed for the Hermes and Rex krewes.
One of Fischer's designs, via Tulane University's digital archives.
In addition to her fantastical and fantastic work on floats, Fischer was a pioneer of gender-bending, a painter who also created installations in houses and a bookstore owner with her husband.
Via Tulane again
Most of my info today (and the glare-ruined photos) come from visiting Louisiana State Museum Presbytere, which is in Jackson Square, the heart of the French Quarter in New Orleans. They've got a phenomenal exhibit on the history of Mardi Gras, as well as a temporary one about Katrina and its aftermath.
Luckily for y'all not in the area, they've got a great online companion.
You're on your own for po boys, though, I ain't sharin'.
(PS. Sorry for two weeks in a row of Nola-themed Fridays. I just moved down here and am SO excited to share my discoveries. Expect wider-reaching posts asap. :)
You you you oughta know: The Equal Rights Amendment
You you you oughta know highlights a woman most of us have probably heard of, but could use a refresher to remind us of their badassery. And if you don’t know, now you do. (P.S. Yep, totally an Alanis reference.)
Well, TECHNICALLY, this feature is about people, but this is my blog, so I'm going to divert from it and post about a thing: The Equal Rights Amendment.
The Equal Rights Amendment was originally proposed in 1923 and again in 1972. Basically, it said that you could not discriminate (especially regarding voting rights!) based on sex or gender.
Via.
Basically, it's a companion to the 15th amendment, which prohibits discrimination based on race or previous being-a-slave-ness. (In high school, I had to memorize all the amendments in a civics-type course, based on some sort of car metaphor. I remember almost none of this, except that the ash-tray is direct election of senators. But, really, as 'Muricans, we should know more about the amendments, so feel free to read about them on Wikipedia.)
Sounds cool, right?
Well, here's the kicker: as of today, in goddamned, 2014, the ERA still does not exist. It turns out, your US government can constitutionally discriminate against you if you are born with a vagina.
Photographer Robyn Cumming tackles issues of femininity head-on with her new series titled ‘Lady Things.’ The shoot features women’s faces covered in things typically considered icons of femininity. The photographs are blunt, bold and intentionally over-the-top instilling a hilarious sarcasm while touching on an important issue. Amazing.
Good Song Sunday: Heart "Barracuda"
Good Song Sunday highlights new and old songs from women that are rockin’ hard and makin’ no apologies (usually old because I’m an old).
If you only know this song from playing guitar hero, oh man, you are missing out.
Heart, fronted by sisters Ann and Nancy Wilson, has been around (and had hits in every decade) since the 1970s!
Their Rolling Stone cover circa 1980 via the magazine itself
The two have got guitar lyrics and a rocking wail that would make Led Zeppelin head bang along. Additionally, the lyrics behind one of the best-known songs "Barracuda" also points out that they're no doormats, either.
Ann wrote the song after a reporter implied that her and her sister were sex partners, which, makes perfect sense:
"If the real thing don't do the trick You better make up something quick You gonna burn, burn, burn, burn, burn it out to the wick"
I think I'm going to say the Wilson sisters won this round, nameless reporter. Watch this video and just try not to be jointly impressed and intimidated.
More than 5 Friday: Marie Laveau
More than 5 Friday is the backbone of this blog: a weekly feature that highlights an awe-inspiring woman in history who has yet to become as well known as she should.
So far on this blog, we've highlighted mostly musicians and women who did really upstanding work like the Grimke abolitionists.
But the reason history is boring in school is because that's all they ever tell you. They never talk about the gross, indecent stuff that heroes do or how dirty everything and everyone was and they never spend any time at all on the rapscallions of the world, which is too bad, because they are the ones who make for REALLY good stories. The legends and tales of history are just as interesting and tell us just as much about what people value than straight facts.
Women rapscallions get, in my view, even less good press than male rapscallions, so today we're veering away from the up-and-up to highlight one Marie Laveau: Voodoo Queen.
Via
Marie Laveau was born in New Orleans, depending on which legend you prefer, to two mixed-race free people or to a father who was a rich, white plantation owner. She is often considered Creole--a mix of Indian, Black and White. She married a Haitian at 25 to gain the awesome last name "Paris" and, when he disappeared six months later, gained the even awesomer nickname "The Widow Paris."
Marie was, first and foremost, a hairdresser to wealthy clients. She was also indisputably Catholic, baptizing her children in the church and following Catholic naming practices. She also lived with a white man, Christophe Glapion, for most of her life, and they had 15 kids together!!
But that is sort of where the facts end and the legends begin, for Marie is better known in NOLA as The Voodoo Queen!
Yep, there remains a shop to this day bearing her name.
Via.
Marie was rumored--during her lifetime--to be a powerful practitioner of those mystical, magical arts, focusing on (as it is usually said) love and business spells. Even more mysterious is that she had a daughter with the same name, who, variously: was the flash and bang half of her mother's business, took her mother's place as the voodoo queen when she died, never existed at all and was actually her mother, was literally one half of the same Marie Laveaux, or perhaps was just a normal daughter.
Like any good legend (or VooDoo Queen), any other facts are hard to pin down, but the rumors persist, remaining a tingle of excitement whenever they're mentioned. For example, Laveau was a character on the most recent season of American Horror Story and was planned by the awesome Angela Basset (Disclaimer: I don't watch this show, nor do I, in fact, even own a TV, so I'm totally just going off what the Internet tells me.)
Via.
And, much like Jim Morrison, her grave commands pilgrims and pillaging. Legend has it that drawing x's on her tomb (as well as some combination of shouting and turning in circles) will grant you wishes.
Via. (Click through for a fun, ghosty story).
Just on the side of caution, I think you'd better believe.
Via.
