Various, lunapark 0,10 
(Sub Rosa, 1994)
Sara Wintz

     

Situated on a completely different level of pleasure than popular fan-activities like reading a biography of James Joyce, reading the writings of Robert Smithson, or buying your favorite KISS member's make up compact on Ebay-- listening to your favorite writer reading their own work in their own way can provide any fan with a new, and sometimes entirely different, understanding of their work.

Thus, it was with such described fervor that I purchased lunapark 0,10, a 1999 Sub Rosa release, edited by Marc Dachy, featuring "original recordings" of Gertrude Stein, Marcel Duchamp, Kurt Schwitters (Rockstars of the Avant-Garde!), as well as numerous other celebs on its roster, after seeing it advertised in a Downtown Music Gallery (NYC) mailing very recently.

If, after reading this review, you elect to buy the album, or if you eagle scouts and junior girl scouts in the bunch already have, you will or will have noticed that lunapark looks like a cd that will in some way discuss the avant garde. Its cover, by Macha Poynder, displays frenzied white lines over a gray background.

Opening lunapark reveals to us a listing of its contents. It begins with a 1912 recording of Guillaume Apollinaire (Live! from Paris!) and ends with Augusto de Campos' work being read in the late seventies and early eighties... also, from Paris. Seventeen friends and foes, to be exact. (And technically, eighteen, if we count a surprise visit by Caetano Veloso, who reads Augusto de Campos' work at the end.)

In lunapark, Dachy has compiled for us some greatest hits... as well as a few surprises. Gertrude Stein makes an appearance to read us "if i told him, a completed portrait of picasso" and "a valentine to sherwood anderson". Kurt Schwitters performs "Ursonate". Dachy includes on the compilation a recording from 1957 of Marcel Duchamp reading "The Creative Act" (oddly enough, in Houston), which is one of the disc's highlights.

For those of us who only speak English, lunapark may bring a fair amount of frustration, considering that most of its performances are in languages like French, Portuguese, and... Ursonate. (Which isn't necessarily a surprise, but certainly something to take into consideration.) It would have been nice if the compact disc included some kind of booklet with biographies of the writers/readers or some informational text introducing its contents, but its packaging is fairly basic-- just the names of the artists, the name of their piece, sometimes the date when it was read, sometimes where it was read, the name of the larger work from which a piece comes-- if it's an excerpt, and of course, how long each poet's reading is.

All in all, however, I'd still say lunapark is a well-worthwhile purchase. Even for serious readers who already have heard all the poets read before, and all of the specific recordings included on lunapark-- it's a nice mixture of artists and a great aural timeline. The recordings themselves are in fantastic condition, with the exception of the disc's mildly crackled recordings of Apollinaire and Maiakovski, which their years of performance in the very beginning of the century really excuse. Hearing Gertrude Stein read is always a treat, and her performance of "A Valentine to Sherwood Anderson" on this disc, is no exception. On some recordings, we even get to hear poets' brief introductions to their featured works-- Richard Huelesenbeck speaks in great detail on the works that he chooses to read us.

Thus, while Brion Gysin proclaims on track seventeen, "no poets don't own words...poets own words, don't know...no words own, poets don't.", lunapark 0,10 does allow listeners to experience some audible gems from the story of the avant-garde.

//   Advance   //