'Medicine Songs' by Buffy Sainte-Marie

Buffy Sainte-Marie's new record, 'Medicine Songs' will be released on 10 November and is available to pre-order - pre-order on iTunes and download the first song now. The new song was  written in the late '60s for a film but not recorded and is here newly recorded with Tanya Tagaq, 'You Got To Run (Spirit of the Wind)'.

The CD includes 13 songs and the download has another six bonus tracks.

On her website Buffy says,

This is a collection of front line songs about unity and resistance – some brand new and some classics – and I want to put them to work. These are songs I’ve been writing for over fifty years, and what troubles people today are still the same damn issues from 30-40-50 years ago: war, oppression, inequity, violence, rankism of all kinds, the pecking order, bullying, racketeering and systemic greed. Some of these songs come from the other side of that: positivity, common sense, romance, equity and enthusiasm for life.

I’ve found that a song can be more effective than a 400-page textbook. It’s immediate and replicable, portable and efficient, easy to understand – and sometimes you can dance to it. 

Buffy is in righteous mood!

The track listing is:

Medicine Songs Tracklisting:
1. You Got To Run (Spirit of the Wind) ft Tanya Tagaq
2. The War Racket
3. Star Walker
4. My Country ‘Tis of Thy People You’re Dying
5. America the Beautiful
6. Carry It On
7. Little Wheel Spin and Spin
8. No No Keshagesh
9. Soldier Blue
10. The Priests of the Golden Bull
11. Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee
12. Universal Soldier
13. Power in the Blood

Digital version includes:
14. Disinformation
15. Fallen Angels
16. Now That The Buffalo’s Gone
17. Generation
18. Working For The Government
19. The War Racket (Unplugged)

Take a listen to 'You Got To Run' below. As Buffy sings in 'Starwalker', 'Pray up your medicine song!'

'The Last da Vinci Exhibition' at Christie's

Christie's, the auction house, has put on a short, three-day exhibition showing the last painting by Leonardo da Vinci to still be in private hands before it's auctioned in New York. The painting is called 'Salvator Mundi' (Saviour of the World) and shows Christ with one hand raised in blessing and a crystal orb in his other hand. The painting has already been on show in Hong Kong and San Francisco and heads off to New York on Saturday to go on show before being auctioned. The estimated price is $100m so I don't think I'll put in a bid.

It's only recently been authenticated as a Leonardo painting, one of only 20 known paintings by him rather than by his workshop or pupils. It was 'rediscovered' in 2005 and, after six years of research, was unveiled as a Leonardo in 2011 at the National Gallery, London.

That painting will have been x-rayed, studied in infrared, paint samples tested to check the chemical composition matches the paint made around 1500 when it was painted, brush techniques will have been examined and lots of paper records will have been examined to find written, historical provinence. According to Christie's, the earliest reference to it was being in the Royal Collection of Charles I and hung in the private chambers of his wife, Queen Henrietta Maria, in her palace at Greenwich.

 It's only on show in London for three days so I made it along to Christie's in St James's on the last day. Inevitably, there was a queue out the door and around the corner - the lady in the black suit (all employees seemed to be in black suits) said the waiting time was about 30 minutes. In the end, it was probably only 20 minutes. Let in in small groups there was a very orderly British queue through a doorway into one room, then into another, and then, round another corner, there it was on the wall with a single spotlight and two guards either side. Surprisingly, we were allowed to take photos without flash so I did.

The painting's not very big, probably about life-sized of head and shoulders, and there's a definite touch of the 'Mona Lisa' in the face. The painting is delicate and precise, with Christ's hair in ringlets and he seems to be wearing some kind of tunic rather the robes he's usually painted in.

We weren't allowed to stand in front of the painting for very long - almost close enough to touch - before being asked to move on so others could have their 30 seconds. I used some of my time to look at the frame which reminded me of the frame for the Fra Angelico 'Virgin & Child' in the Rijksmuseum in Amersterdam - it's obviously a different colour, shape and design but I couldn't shake the lingering memory.

I'm pleased I saw it since I'll probably never have the opportunity to see it again. I hope it goes into a public collection somewhere and not just some rich person's bank vault. Thanks for the show Christie's.

Fra Angelico 10/12

On the 18th of each month I'm posting a painting by Fra Angelico that I've seen to celebrate his feast day. For October I've chosen 'The Last Judgement' altarpiece from the Gemaldegalerie in Berlin that I saw a month or so ago for the first time.

It would benefit from a cleaning which would make it sparkle and gleam like the version in Rome but it's still an astonishing sight just as it is. In particular, I liked the ranks of angels in the painting.

The middle panel of the altarpiece shows Christ in judgement while the panels on either side show angels escorting the blessed to Heaven and, on the other, sinners in various punishments in hell. I'm quite partial to the angels in the left-hand panel performing a stately dance with the blessed friars and monks being danced towards Heaven.

The Dominicans dominate in terms of numbers in the painting, as they would with the good Fra being a Dominican himself, as they move through paradise towards the golden Heaven above. The angels' robes are gorgeous  and their wings are multicoloured (as are all angel wings, as the Fra would know). They also brighten up the rather dull robes of the friars and monks.

I'd love to know enough about the flora at the time to know which flowers are shown in paradise - they will be real flowers and will, no doubt, have a meaning like purity or wisdom or something.

The other group of angels I particularly like are those at the bottom left of the main panel, greeting the blessed and the saved and leading them towards the angels dancing to Heaven. I like the intimacy of these angels with their arms around the saved, cuddling them, escorting them almost as equals towards Heaven.  I think this is lovely and something I've not seen in paintings by other artists.

The Fra was inventing new ways to depict traditional subjects that had been painted loads of times - and he will have seen loads of versions of the Last Judgement in Florence - and trying to come up with a new way of showing them, a human way to better engage the viewer. On that final day I wouldn't want to stand aghast at the sight of angels, I'd want them to welcome me with open arms and that's what the Fra is doing here.

It really is an astonishing paint8ing when you start looking at the details and start wondering about it. If you ever get to Berlin then you could do a lot worse than go to the Gemaldegalerie and see this glorious altarpiece and the other amazing works in the gallery.

'Here To Be Heard: The Story of The Slits' at the British Film Institute

On Saturday night I went to see 'Here To Be Heard', a new documentary about The Slits, as part of the London Film Festival at the BFI on the Southbank. It's not only new, it was the world premiere.

I go way back with The Slits, to the first John Peel session when he played these weird and challenging songs with this odd lead singer. I taped it. Hearing 'New Town' or 'Shoplifting' whiz me back to my teenage years even now. Sadly I never saw them play live and didn't even see the Clash tour when they were one of the support bands (how did that happen?).

But I bought 'Cut' and, when the new version of The Slits got together in the '00s I bought 'Trapped Animal'. When I heard that Viv Albertine was back I supported her crowd-funder and contributed to her promo gig at the 12 Bar Club in January 2013 (sending a cheque to her home at the time). Then we had Viv's first album and book, with another book on the way. I even supported the original crowd-funder for this film on Kickstarter back in 2015. People need to know about The Slits.

The documentary takes as it's core a scrapbook kept by Tessa Pollitt as she leafs through the pages and provides a narrative, showing film clips from the time, photos and, of course, the music. There are some great clips from their early gigs - the sound isn't too good but that doesn't matter, it's astonishing that there's actually any film material at all. It's lovely to hear Tessa telling The Slits story, along with interviews with Viv and Paloma (Palmolive) thinking back to those younger days and their experiences. And Ari, of course, is never far from their memories.

Fast forward to the mid-00s and Ari and Tessa got a new version of The Slits together to tour and then release a new album. Ari wanted their last tour of America filmed so there's footage from this and then, of course, there's the news of Ari's illness and her death and the end of The Slits.

It was great to see some of the interviews with people like Paul Cook, Don Letts, Dennis Bovell and even with Budgie harking back to those wild days. It's a shame we didn't hear anything from Nora Lydon, Ari's mum, but you can't have everything.

After the screening there was an impromptu Q&A with the director and producer who then invited Tessa and Paloma onto the stage to great applause. Cue the usual 'it's all about me' questions and comments from the audience. It was livened up a bit by Dennis Bovell who was also in the audience (and, later, behind me in the queue for the toilet) - Dennis, of course, produced 'Cut' and I saw him play with Linton Kwesi Johnson a few years back at the Barbican. Sadly, Spizz was also there (sitting behind me for the screening) who did his usual 'it's all about me' thing and told everyone that Paloma was the drummer in his first band - I wanted to tell him to shut up and stop trying to steal their big moment.

I'm really pleased I got to see this film - and I'm pleased that it was finally made and released. There are many stories and angles to punk and music in the '70s and the story of The Slits needs to be included. It was also lovely to see Tessa and Paloma on the stage. The film should get a theatrical release in early 2018 and DVDs will be available in 2018. If you'd like to pre-order the DVD then go here: https://www.pledgemusic.com/projects/the-slits-here-to-be-heard. I'm looking forward to seeing it again.

Jasper Johns: 'Something Resembling Truth' at the Royal Academy

As well as exhibitions about Matisse and Dali/Duchamp, the Royal Academy also has an exhibition about Jasper Johns at the moment. It's subtitled 'Something Resembling Truth' part of a quote of Johns talking about his art. This is the largest of the three exhibitions and takes up most of the first floor galleries. It's the first exhibition I've been torn a long time where the artist is not only still alive but is still working.

I'd been looking at the poster for the exhibition and wondering why anyone would paint a broom? What's that about? Of course, that work - titled 'Fools House' - is included in the exhibition and I was surprised to see that it's not a painting of a broom, it's an actual broom hung in front a painted background. I am, of course, still none the wiser.

Something I found odd about the exhibition was the repetitive nature of the works. There were a few versions of his American flag paintings but it was when we moved on to his numbers paintings that it was really noticeable. I really liked '0 through 9' as a clever and very colourful painting and quite liked the black and white version hung close to it but the next room was full of different paintings of numbers, single numbers, groups of numbers, in this colour and that, some black and white and some grey, numbers in aluminium or bronze, big numbers and small, lots and lots of numbers.

I can see that if this was the sort of work Johns was producing then that should be represented in the exhibition - but do we need to see so many of these works? Wouldn't a few serve just as well to be representative of his work?

There are a few 'big splat' paintings with bright, bright colours and the use of words to both illuminate and to title paintings. There are paintings with balls (literally) and other objects, such as plastic arms or legs attached in some way, making the flat painting more cultural and three dimensional. Some used long pieces of string to deliver this three D effect, draped across paintings to direct the eye or simply to confuse.

In another room we see some of his sculptures of objects, such as beer cans and a vase made to resemble a jar with paint brushes sticking out the top. And then, of course, he paints them as well so we get a painting of the sculpture. It gets odder and odder.

A painting I was taken with was 'The Dutch Wives' from 1977, painted using a cross-hatching style, filling the canvases with lots of short lines in shades of grey, moving this way and that, very busy and strangely compelling. I have no idea why it's called 'Dutch Wives'. And then I turned round and saw the room was full of paintings in a  similar cross-hatching style, sometimes colourful and sometimes not. It's almost as if Johns has decided that's the only way to paint so he kept on using that approach until he got bored with it. As with the number paintings, why so many in the same style?

I think my favourite paintings was the series collectively known as 'The Seasons'. Four large paintings in a similar style but each representing a different season. In each, Johns uses his own shadow to provide the figurative aspect to the painting and includes various objects, presumably that represent the seasons in his own mind. 'Winter' and 'Fall' were my favourites (possibly because we're in autumn at the moment) and I liked the muted colours and the shapes he created on the canvas. He produced a fifth painting, a cruciform work that combined the motifs from the four seasonal paintings. I preferred the four large season paintings in the order in which he placed them.

One of the final paintings was 'Green Angel' from 1990 and it rather stood out from the crowd for various reasons, not least that he's included sand in the surface of the painting. I don't know if he mixed it into the paint or scattered it onto the wet canvas later but it creates a really interesting texture to the work.

So there we are. I didn't find this the most satisfying of exhibitions but it's nice to see so  many of his works collected together - even if they are occasionally a bit repetitious. The exhibition is on until December so there's plenty of time in which to see it if you're inclined.

'Dali/Duchamp' at the Royal Academy

The new exhibition at the Royal Academy is about Salvador Dali and Marcel Duchamp, possibly best known for melting clocks and urinals. I've seen quite a few Dali paintings over the years (most recently at Museo Reina Sofia in Madrid) but, despite knowing his name and knowing of his art, I don't recall seeing any works by Duchamp at all. I must have seen some of his work, of course, since it's in many museums I've visited, but it hasn't registered with me. So it's time to put that right and start learning.

Dali and Duchamp were friends throughout their careers and this exhibition pulls together a variety of their works including some correspondence and gifts, photographs by themselves and of them by Man Ray, reconstructed sculptures and some really interesting paintings by Duchamp. It's not a big exhibition but it kept me intrigued.

The painting that greets you as you walk into the exhibition is a large one by Duchamp, 'The King and Queen Surrounded by Swift Nudes'. There's not a nude in sight and the royalty refers to chess pieces. The 'nudes' are referred to in the notes as electrons. If you say so. I wasn't particularly bothered, I just liked the shapes and the interactions between them. To the right of this painting is another one of two chess players in a similar style by Duchamp and, to the left, are portraits of Dali and Duchamp's dads by the respective artists, painted about ten years apart. I thought Duchamp's was the better of the two and it's such a shame that he effectively gave up on painting shortly afterwards.

One thing I wasn't expecting to see were photographs by Man Ray of Duchamp's alter ego as Rrose Selavy. There's nothing to explain why Duchamp felt he had a female alter ego but why should there be? If he wanted to explore another side of his personality then that's okay. There are a few photos of Rrose and, apparently, he sometimes signed work documents using that name.

One of my favourites of his 'readymades' was a small white birdcage filled with what looked like sugar cubes with a mirror underneath reflecting the words 'Why not sneeze Rose Selavy?'. It was so unexpected and such fun, something you wouldn't see if you stand too close to it since the mirror is underneath the cage and hidden form view. It takes some real thinking to come up with that.

What I liked was the large glass case that included a lot of 'readymades' and other creations by both artists, including the white cage. Pride of place is, of course, given over to 'Fountain', the urinal Duchamp submitted to an exhibition and which was hidden behind a screen. Beside it was Dali's lobster telephone. There's also a bicycle wheel on a stool and a garden shovel hanging downwards. I have to admit that some of these items were more curiosities than artworks but I'm not sure that that matters in context really. I enjoyed seeing them and puzzling over them.

Another photograph by Man Ray that I liked was of Duchamp and Bronia Perlmutter as Adam and Eve. It's such an odd photo to come across - I don't know why I found it odd but I did. It's hung beside Duchamp's drawing of Lucas Cranach's 'Adam & Eve' and the pose in the photo tries to replicate this. It sort of succeeds in replicating the painting but what isn't clear is why? Was it just a bit of fun, a poke at the artistic audience to say 'anybody can do this if they want' or is it meant as another statement. Who knows, but I like that and its irreverence.

I'm more of a paintings man really so it was the Dali works that I spent most time looking at. Leaving aside the subject matter and his love of self-promotion (of which he was very good), he's actually a very good painter. Most of the works on show were small and I hadn't seen any of them before.

Dali has to have his joke with us and that comes out with his 'Couple With Their Heads Full Of Clouds' in which the frames are of two heads and shoulders with the painting contained within those shapes. Although these could be front or back views I see them from the back so we're seeing what they're looking at. That's a dessert scene with a giraffe on fire (for some reason). It's great fun and a very delicate painting.

I was also really taken by 'Exploding Raphaelesque Head' in the same room. It does have a hint of a Raphael Madonna about it but what really grabbed me were the panels in the crown of the head and the circular hole at the top that refers to the ceiling of the Pantheon in Rome in which Raphael was buried. Other than the imagery there's no hint of that in the painting but, once you know that, it shouts out to you. I suspect there's more in that painting than I've seen so far, but it kept my attention.

The exit from the exhibition is through/under a reproduction of Duchamp's piece 'Twelve Hundred Coal Sacks Suspended from the Ceiling Over a Stove'' from 1938. I loved it. Wondering what on earth was this thing and was anything going to fall on me? It's the experience that matters.

It's a relatively small exhibition for the Royal Academy but I found it to be really fascinating with so much to see and wonder about. These artists are so much more than urinals and meting clocks, they continue the grand tradition of the evolution of art who simply took us up a slightly different path of their own inventing. Where would we be - not just in art but more widely - without them?

I think I need to go back to see this exhibition again. I've got no doubt I'll see something very differently.

'Soul Of A Nation' at Tate Modern

'Soul Of A Nation' at Tate Modern is subtitled 'Art in the Age of Black Power' and covers art produced by black or Afro-Americans between 1963-1983, the peak years for the civil rights movement and black consciousness. It includes all sorts of exhibits from paintings to photography, sculptures and mobiles, screen prints, big chunks of cloth and even a couple of dresses. There's all-sorts to look at and explore and the poster boy for the exhibition (and cover of the catalogue) is a self-portrait by Barkley Hendricks titled 'Icon for my Superman (Superman Never Saved Any Black People - Bobby Seale)' from 1969. My powers of observation must be waning because I didn't realise until I read the notice beside the painting that he doesn't have any pants on.

The exhibits are grouped by theme or by art group, generally based in a particular city. My favourite was in Room 5 of the exhibition that displayed works from AfriCOBRA in Chicago. AfriCOBRA stands for African Commune of Bad Relevant Artists, a title I love. I also loved the colours of their works which were glorious. I immediately thought of Fahrelnissa Zeid (whose exhibition was on in the other Tate Modern building and which I'd just seen) and of the Delaunays, of course. But I suspect the real influence is late 60s psychedelia.

AfriCOBRA wanted their works seen by the most people possible so they were reproduced as posters so people could buy them for their walls at home, a good move that must've also brough in some much-needed revenue. They incorporated words and slogans in their painting to hammer the message home, such as 'Uphold Your Men' by Carolyn Lawrence, 'Wake Up' by Gerald Williams and 'Unite' by Barbara Jones-Hoga (all from 1971 and pictured above).

My favourite in this section was a painting from a photo of Angela Davis that was circulating while she was in prison in 1972. It's titled 'Revolutionary' by Wadsworth Jarrell and shows Angela speaking into a hand-held microphone at a rally and all the swirling colours around her make up words and phrases from that speech she was making. I would've had that poster on my wall back then if I'd known it existed. Can you see the bandolier across her left shoulder? That was on display in a glass case beside the painting and, rather than be filled with bullets it's filled with different colours of chalk - ammunition for an artist.

A similar type of painting from AfriCOBRA is 'Black Prince', again by Wadsworth Jarrell, from 1971 that shows Malcolm X. Perfect for a poster.

This room - and the works - seemed to be among the most overtly political and challenging, possibly because of incorporating words into the paintings. They are also, possibly, some of the proudest paintings, depicting people of intellect and influence and displaying some of their words in bright and evocative paintings. I think they're actually very clever, a very good way of spreading their messages.

Another great painting in this AfriCOBRA room was 'Black Children Keep Your Spirits Free' by Carolyn Mims Lawrence from 1972 that actually uses the title of the painting as its centrepiece.

There's a lot more going on in this exhibition than riots of colour. There's a lot of politics and this was summed up for me by the rather harrowing work by David Hammons from 1970 called 'Injustice Case'. It shows Bobby Seale, a co-founder of the Black Panthers bound and gagged during his court case at which he couldn't choose his own attorney or even represent himself. The image is, I think, a screen print within a frame of the American flag. His arms and legs are bound, a gag around his mouth at his own court case. It's a difficult image to look at.

There are a few painful images to confront and it's important that we look at them, but they're not all painful. Towards the end of the exhibition is a panting by Emma Amos called 'The Babysitter' from 1973. Look at that relaxed posture and smile - this is a happy person who looks after the artists' daughter so that the artist can paint. It's lovely.

One of the oddities of the exhibition is the inclusion of Andy Warhol's 'Muhammad Ali' which, as far as I'm aware, was the only work by a white artist. Is it there to include Ali as a big public figure back then speaking out for black consciousness or to show that white artists were influenced by black power? Who knows. But it's nice to see Ali included.

There's a lot going on in this exhibition and it shows us a lot of different types and movements of art. It was very busy and there seemed to be  few groups of students going round the exhibition with their guides, so I might try to go back when it might be quieter.

It was fascinating to see these works by artists and groups I'd never heard of before - and why would I, I'm in London and this is American modern history?  The comments board outside the exhibition included a couple saying that the exhibition should be taken to New York - I wonder how it would go down there in the age of trump?

The shop (in the standard 'exit through the shop' mode) has a great catalogue costing a rather silly £29.99 but the cards are 75p (although there's not many of them). The shop is flooded by groovy, funky early 70s music which you can buy on LP or CD. It has lots of books about black power but none by Angela Davis which was disappointing. I read her autobiography of life on the run from the FBI for her communist and Black Panther activities in about 1975 or 1976 and it would be good to stumble across a copy of that book again.

And, to finish off, here's the photograph that I think was used as the basis for Jarred's painting of Angela Carter. On the way into the exhibition is a row of TV sets showing footage and sound-clips from influential people and one of them is Angela. After an interview with her this photo popped up of Angela speaking into a hand-held microphone. Who knew that photo would go round the world?

The exhibition is only on for another few weeks so, if you're interested or intrigued, now would be a good time to visit the exhibition before it closes.