WARNING: GRAPHIC CONTENT

The Telidon System (1979-1985 approximately) was a Canadian telephone communication process which enabled the exchange of visual information, a forerunner of Videotex / Teletext and a precursor to advanced computer and game graphics. Developed at a cost of several hundred million dollars, Telidon didn't fulfil its potential and, ultimately, faded away as new developments surged ahead of it.

Pierre Moretti's film Graphic Variations On Telidon, despite sounding like the title of a brainy sci fi parable, showcases the system's ground-breaking capabilities. The visuals are (by current standards) limited, but very charming, with a mid-century feel that reminds me of an etch-a-sketch or the tin plate tube kaleidoscopes which served as entertainment before more spectacular things for kids to look at came along. 

Made in 1980, when hopes for the Telidon were still high, this eight minute film was a product of the National Film Board Of Canada, the greatest of all state run cultural organisations. 

DANCE AWAY

I'm too clumsy and self-conscious to be a dancer, so I try and avoid it wherever I can. Dance, however, is a wonderful thing, even as a spectator sport. In this new intermittent (aren't they all?) series, I'll be posting pictures of people dancing - you can provide your own soundtrack.

Here are some young (and young-ish) Estonian people dancing in a 1980s commercial for, I kid you not, accordions. 

THERE AIN'T NO PARTY LIKE A TRAUTONIUM PARTY

The Trautonium is an electric Synthesizer invented by Friedrich Trautwein in 1930. Trautwein's apprentice,  Oskar Sala, loved the instrument so much that he spent the next 72 years playing it and perfecting its design.

In 1963, Sala used an iteration of the Trautonium to provide the eerie chittering soundscapes that provide the only score for Hitchcock's last masterpiece, The Birds.

A fascinating mix of organ, synth and souped up electric cello, the instrument straddles the olde worlde and the science fiction-y simultaneously and, perhaps unsurprisingly, failed to break into public consciousness. Sadly, since Sala's death in 2002, this labour of love has fallen further into obscurity, with only a handful of people left in the world who know how to play it.

See it, and Sala, in action HERE.

WISDOM

    

Gillian Wise (1936-2020)

I first saw Wise's work at the Sainsburys Centre in Norwich, the world class art gallery in the grounds of the University of East Anglia, where I studied from 1995 to 1998. I was amazed that these were drawings, and couldn't fathom how they could have been done by hand. I still can't. Magic, probably, or incredible skill.

Despite living only a few hundred metres from the gallery, I suppose I went in about a dozen times over a three year period. Now I'd be in there every single day, mainly because my appreciation of art has increased considerably, partly because I don't have nearly as much on these days. 

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT

 

EVERYONE'S A CRITIC

What I like about this sweet, clean seaside postcard is that the couple are not necessarily dismissive of the sculpture, they just don't know what they're looking at or how to engage with it. This may eventually make them angry but, for now, it leaves them perplexed and slightly embarrassed, a not uncommon reaction to the unfamiliar - and one that is infinitely preferable to some of the too cool for school pseudery that can pass for reaction when it comes to art.  

It's my birthday today. I'm fifty six, which seems ridiculously, farcically old. I can no longer tell the front from the backside.

RELIGION CAN BE A PROBLEM

 

God Told Me To, d. Larry Cohen (1976)

Without wishing to give too much away about the mesmerising God Told Me To, here are five images of Richard Lynch as a glowing, golden haired hermaphroditic hippy will-o’-the-wisp star child who lives in a squalid underground furnace room and uses mind control to direct a cabal of fanatical followers. 

Filmed in the old, scuzzy, dangerous New York - often without permission - Cohen's movie starts out as a tense thriller. as a wave of bizarre murders sweeps the city, each one committed by a seemingly normal member of the public who suddenly feels compelled to kill everyone around them. Their explanation to the authorities afterwards? 'God Told Me To'.

The second half of the film goes nuts, and so do all of the characters.

COME BLOW YOUR HORN

I have an ongoing fascination with Cliff Richard, actually more of a morbid obsession that I can't shake off. I've been aware of him all my life, not surprising given that he's loomed over British popular culture since the 1950s. His shadow has now diminished somewhat, but a sinister, slightly distorted trace of it remains - and occasionally lurches into sharp relief. It's incredible just how many 'careers' Cliff has had, and just how many different Cliffs there are: you never get to the end of him. I expect he will outlive me. He'll outlive all of us.

In this clip, it's 1968, and nobody knows what's going on anymore to the extent that an utterly incomprehensible, drug adjacent toytown psych ditty called The Sound Of The Candyman's Trumpet is seriously under consideration as the UK's entry into that year's Eurovision Song Contest.

Cliff, looking buff but rather like a shaved chimp, does his best but seems slightly bored.  He gets some fiddly hand movements in at the end, but there's only so much even he can do with such lukewarm material. Anyway, in the end, Congratulations is selected as our song for Europe, and Cliff is pleased: he can really go to town on it, and there's no lingering ambiguity about penises*. 

* Congratulations came second. But try remembering the winner, Spain's 'La La La', and see how far you get. Happy Eurovision, everyone!

THREE (MORE) SHOTS

 

A brief (final) press of the Return button for Ghost In The Machine. Yes, that's Karen Allen.

PC GONE MAD

Ghost In The Machine, d. Rachel Talalay (1993) 

Have you ever wondered what might happen if, at the point of his own death, a serial killer was absorbed into a powerful computer network and then continued his murderous career using microwave ovens, hand driers, dish washers and ATM machines? No, me neither, or no yo tampoco, as they say in Spanish. 

The main issue with this film is that it is just so creaky and stilted, with the actors clearly being unfamiliar and uncomfortable with the 'state of the art' (see above) effects they were supposed to be reacting and responding to*. Nowadays, of course, movies use CGI for even mundane things, so actors have got much  better at this sort of pretending. 

Ghost In The Machine cost $12m, made less than half of its budget back and would have been pretty much completely out of date before the credits finished rolling. Oh, well, mas que nada, as they say in Portugese.

* The dialogue is also awful, and the lead kid is annoying.