The story of my life?

It's been quite a while since Chris set up the 'new' Images of Dusk website, and challenged me by saying 'I'm sure Pierre must have some material to contribute'. Perhaps its my new job, perhaps its been finding the habit of writing for this page, but I've finally decided to put finger to keyboard. I'm writing a bit about the history of Images of Dusk, which has made me reflect on a phenomenon that is as old as art, which probably means as old as people.

Writing the history of our 'band' began as the history of us - particularly, of Chris and me, though also of the others (Nick, Robb, William) who have helped us out with our music in the past. But I'm realising that Images of Dusk is actually something distinct from any of us. I'm writing an autobiography and a biography at the same time.

I should briefly explain that Images of Dusk is, I realise, an extremely naff name for a group - it's no great surprise that we ended up being placed in the 'Cuddlecore/Twee pop' category at this Russian website (though how they got hold of our name, I'm not sure - perhaps an automated check against artists listed on the old mp3.com). However, since that late evening sat in my parents' kitchen drinking cups of tea and writing out every alternative we could come up with, when suddenly it became clear that Images of Dusk was the perfect name for us (?), it's gained a history and (admittedly limited) resonance of its own. The music we've recorded under that name is now undoubtedly Images of Dusk music, not my music or Chris's music.

Ours may be an extraordinarily humble comparator, but I think this is the same phenomenon that every artist experiences - the moment when the creation or performance has finished, and (under whatever name you wish), the thing you've made goes off into the world to fight its own fights, be judged on its own merits, quite separate from the person who has created it. It's like a child's first day at school - the parent has created that child (genetically, at least, but also largely in terms of 'nurture' at that early age) , but must now let him fend for himself. This is a peculiarly terrrifying, bittersweet moment of vulnerability, when that irreversible separateness is felt like never before.

Performers similarly have to acknowledge the gaps between them, their performance, and the work they are performing. Helen described how a musician has to reign in the temptation to exert too much self onto a performance:

too little self-control impoverishes the emotion of the music, because it becomes all about you on the stage, and not the work performed.

(Though she also points out the balance that the musician must strike:

too much control and the performance is anxiously perfectionist and wooden.)

For the artist, the parent, the performer, there is a moment when the work of art, the child, the performance leaves its originator and becomes something separate, and quite distinct from an expression of self. Chaucer wrote towards the end of Troilus and Criseyde:

Go, litel book, go litel myn tragedie,
Ther god thy maker yet, er that he dye,
So sende might to make in som comedie!
But litel book, no making thou nenvye,
But subgit be to alle poesye;
And kis the steppes, wher-as thou seest pace
Virgile, Ovyde, Omer, Lucan, and Stace.

And for ther is so greet diversitee
In English and in wryting of our tonge,
So preye I god that noon miswryte thee,
Ne thee mismetre for defaute of tonge.
And red wher-so thou be, or elles songe,
That thou be understonde I god beseche!
But yet to purpos of my rather speche.

His 'litel book' would have to 'go' its own way now he had finished writing it; he could only pray that 'noon miswryte thee,/Ne thee mismetre for defaute of tonge', and that his little book be understood. I'm not quite sure what he means by 'miswryte thee' - presumably the hope that no scribes copy the work out incorrectly. When the book left him, he could not control how it would be interpreted (and as a Christian writing about pre-Christian heroes, this was a significant consideration), or even how it would be written. I suppose every composer has the same feeling about future interpretations of his work; a performer has to hope that his performance is understood by his audience. A parent has the (heartbreaking) hope that his child will fit in, be happy, in the wider world.

Anyway - I'll pop a link up to the Images of Dusk life history when it's done.

Comments

[thesunbrothers]

It's very true - the first day at school metaphor is certainly how I felt about our album. And the idea of the band being something that has an odd relationship with it's members - especially in terms of characters. When we work we often know when we've done something that we think is Sun Brothers - not so much a sound or chord (though a few major sevenths and a harmony in the chorus probably would do it!) more the attitude. It's hard to define, but when a musical collaboration is working I think it's often when all parties involved have at least a few strong points of similarity in how they define the character of the beast they've created, even if, as you say with your feelings on The Images Of Dusk's name, that character has traits that you as its creator aren't all that fond of.