Issue #12 : California Dreaming

This issue’s featured piece of music is:

‘The Harp of New Albion’ by Terry Riley

Performed by Terry Riley in Munich in 1986

In 1577 Francis Drake set out from England with five ships, one of which was the Pelican but which Drake grandly, unexpectedly renamed the Golden Hind in a small ceremony upon its rolling deck not far out into the already busy shipping lanes of the English Channel (which was currently French). Drake’s aim was to discover new things and plunder new peoples. They crossed the Atlantic Ocean, lost some of the ships and became embroiled in contretemps with Brazilians. ‘South!’ Drake exclaimed, so they did. 

By mid 1579 Drake had made it around Cape Horn and up the Pacific west coast of South America all the way to Southern California. As usual it was godless and full of taupe-tinged heathens. He stood harbourside unsteadily regarding the small settlement he’d decided to Christen Nova Albion - these days better known as San Francisco Bay - a smeary telescope in one hand, harp in the other. Behind him, his ship groaned with twenty-five tons of stolen silver. It was a windy day, and the stiff breeze played havoc with Drake’s elaborate whiskers. He put the harp down and with scurvy-ridden digits tugged and twisted them back into some sort of slippery waxen shape. He was also drunk; he usually was; his crew were too, it had been a long year.

‘What are you going to do with that harp, Cap’n?’ asked the bosun, Drake’s drinking buddy and occasional confidant.
‘I’m going to bl**dy play it,’ slurred Drake. ‘As a greeting, for the natives.’
‘But you can’t play it, sir. Holbrook could play it, but you shot him in Buenos Aires.’
‘I wondered what had happened to Holbrook! Why did I shoot him, do you know?’
‘No idea, sir. You were very merry.’
‘I was?’
‘Indeed at your absolute merriest.’
Drake frowned, raised a dirty-shirted arm and flopped onto the pier’s warped boards, staring out into the angular water of the harbour. He toyed with the harp, dismally.
‘I sometimes wonder what we’re doing here at all.’
The bosun didn’t reply. Drake turned to him. ‘Don’t you?’
‘Not really, no. I have faith in you, cap’n, sir. Wherever you may lead and all.’
‘Faith! Ha!’
‘What’s funny about that, sir?’
‘Faith!’
Drake bashed his telescope on the ground and it made a small tinkling sound.
‘Now I’ve broken my telescope!’

Late in 1579, Chief Running Horse stood atop the cliffs overlooking Nova Albion Bay watching the Golden Hind bob back out to sea. Over the five weeks he’d hung around, Drake had executed two previous chiefs, so Running Horse was delighted to see the Englishmen depart before he could become the third. In his right hand he held Drake’s broken telescope; in his left the abandoned harp. He set the harp down on the grass and held the telescope up to an eye, directing it into the clouds above. Through the broken glass the sky appeared prismatic and unreal, like murky old peyote dreams. He shook the telescope and took another look; the shapes had changed again; the telescope was now a kaleidoscope. As Chief Running Horse gazed yet further into the spliced-out clouds, the wind on the clifftop rose and whistled through the strings of the harp. Running Horse stood listening to the machine in wonder. As the wind rose, so the harp hummed on; as the air currents shifted, so too did the harp’s tonality. The chief flung himself agape down on the grass before it; soon all the other villagers came tentatively up the cliff and did the same. The harp never moved from this clifftop spot – it became an object of worship and the wind continued to play it even as its wood frame warped and it bent into gnarled rust twine in the shifting humidity of the Pacific ocean’s breath.    

In 1986 hippy minimalist composer Terry Riley sat down at a Bosendorfer Imperial grand piano tuned to Just Intonation (as opposed to the usual Equal Temperament; my own piano, however, is tuned to Unjust Atonality, which is great for whenever LaMonte Young comes round to play, but the rest of the time quite annoying) in Munich’s Academy of Music and played, semi-improvised for about two hours. These improvisations were based on and inspired by the legend of the Harp of New Albion, as recounted above. And he does indeed manage to make the piano sound like a harp being played by the wind on a clifftop. The performance was released on CD as ‘The Harp of New Albion’.

And now in Autumn 2007 the third movement of ‘The Harp of New Albion’ is included, unauthorized, for free in the very late Issue #12 of the Bitterest Pill internet ezine. Apparently that’s what this is – an ‘ezine’. A little too close to ‘asinine’ for my liking.

The moral of the story: look how simple historical fiction is to do!

I finished the Half Marathon, by the way, although it ruined my already-pretty-ruined knees. It’s not too late to sponsor me either. All contributions greatly appreciated – please click here: www.justgiving.com/sebhunter where there is also a lovely photograph of me having just finished the race (in 341st place – 2 hours, 32 minutes) with my proud mother.

Download the third movement of ‘The Harp of New Albion’ - entitled ‘Riding the Westerleys’ - for free here

Buy the CD from amazon.co.uk here
Buy the CD from amazon.com here

Readers’ Comments pertaining to Issue #11

‘What you are doing (or have done) is very honorable. Stupid, but honorable. And I wish you the very best of luck.’ – GG, Colchester, UK

‘That was hilarious. No, that was very profound… the classics inspire the anatomy more than anything else!

*goes through ancient record collection, works out to Yngwie Malmsteen*’ - Ranjit Menon, Bombay

‘hi seb. DON’T CUT YOUR HAIR, and is it correct that your USA ppl cant pay in dollars? thanks4help.

i like to rollerskate to the ramones. come home and collapse. but while skating.

good luck seb. thanks4caring’ – Andrea, USA
(Hi Andrea – yes it’s OK to pay in dollars – thanks! Seb)

‘Talking of Ninths that are good for things, I find Beethoven’s Ninth great for getting ready for school in the mornings, although I do have to stop frequently to do some actions at the more dramatic sections.’ – Siobhan, UK

‘So I ran a 21 mile relay today and had 7 (plus 5 from yesterday!) I was bummed at like the last mile it was hot n humid  and lo and behold - Mr Kurt Cobain was next up on the ipod and I busted my butt to the finish :-)

Have to admit Run to Hills is a good one too!  

Love the "Pill"  - keep 'em coming.’ – Carrie, Texas
(Thanks muchos to everyone who sponsored me! – Seb)

‘We actually tried to donate 75p but it wouldn’t let us.’ – Juliet Robertson, London
(Except for you guys. – S)