hola comrades!

first of all....thank you all SO so very much for all the positive response to the "polly" video. holy shit. it had more impact than i'd imagined, for real.
thank you all, deeply, for sharing the link and tweeting it around and generally helping us spread it far and wide....it's getting tons of views and love online. 
nirvana posted it to their official facebook page (which in my opinion is a seal of approval far superior to getting it played on MTV). thank you, thank you.

now for the news: yes, you guessed it. 

all signs were pointing this way for ages.


i'm pregnant.

not with a child, but....


....WITH A MOTHERFUCKING RECORD ALBUM!!!!!!!

that's right: i'm about to give birth to a COLLECTION OF SONG-SPAWN that's going to blow your domepiece off.
me and the new band (the grand theft orchestra) are going to hit the studio in almost exactly one month, in melbourne. 

i have about 20+ songs ready to record. 

almost all of them have never been heard.

they've all been written, slowly and in secret, over the past 3 years.
i've never made a record anything like this. it will be like....me. but different. the songs are amazing. i'm really, really incredibly proud of them.

the producer/engineer is going to be the fabulous john congleton, who's produced a ton of amazing indie stuff...including the past few st. vincent records.
(you can geek out/drool over his production credits HERE)

i hope he forgives me for stealing this particular photo from his fan-run tumblr:


i've been waiting to make this new record for a long, long, LONG, LONG time.
not the run the pregnancy metaphor into the ground, but it does feel like i've been carrying this thing around for longer than is necessary or comfortable.

the last time i went into the studio and made a "proper" studio album was back in 2008 when i recorded "Who Killed Amanda Palmer" in nashville with ben folds wearing the producer hat.

since then, my life has been a mishy-mashy wonderland of bizarre side-projects, theater detours and...other things. 
like finding my wonderful husband (he's nice) and getting married (several times). 

and writing songs when they came, and tucking them away....sometimes playing them live and testing them out, mostly not.

waiting for certain things to settle. trying to put the right band together. 

and, knowing that this time would eventually come (and that i'd have to work on this record for about two years solid): running full force in my own free, random ninja directions (which is my version of "resting").

and most importantly (and kind of most boringly; i never talk about this shit) i've been re-configuring my behind-the-scenes team and management until i felt i had a team capable of helping me BIRTH this BEAST. and i do now, and we're ready.

you might have seen one of the little under-the-radar shows i did (when i didn't allow ANY FOOTAGE to be taken) this last spring or summer with the new band...michael mcquilken on drums (and bass, and more) and chad on guitar and synths and trumpet (and more), with a variety of guest musicians on stage with us.....

here we is (photo by Rene Huemer):

and then on stage, with superkate leading us in AEROBICS (photo by chrisdonia via flickr):


breaking the sound barrier of DANCE with superkate (photo by Bryndís Blackadder):


drew forrest - who filmed us lots in the UK last summer - put this together:

do not fret, every single night is going to be UBER-SPECIAL...these are bascially open rehearsals with the band...anything goes.

dress to impress....your mom.

if you want to help spread the word about these shows, here's how...
i am personally going to be wandering around melbourne, handing out these flyers and leaving them on the benches of many an unsuspecting vegan record shop.

i've missed doing that. i'm never in town long enough before a gig to be able to.

but i could always use help…we put up a download link for the poster (and handbills) up on the shadowbox, so please: grab the assets HERE (or click the thumbnails below), go get some printer ink and tape, and hit the streets……and if you don't live in the area but know people who do, let them know? just link 'em to http://bit.ly/NorthcotePromo

 
....................................

also, MELBOURNE (and this is getting dorky) if you have any of this GEAR or a music shop/rental hook-up, we need you!!!!
you can save us tons of money if you have any of the following we can borrow (or rent for cheap or barter!):

- a Kurzweill PC3 keyboard
- a Nord Electro 3
- really, ANY kind of sequential-circuit synthesizer 
 
- a Juno 106 synthesizer
- a Moog Voyager
or
- a Korg ms20 synthesizer

and maybe maybe maybe one of you has…
- 2 x Technics 1200/1210 turntables

(would definitely also need the cables, etc to all of the above, but we could source our own in a pinch.)

and this one i really need NOW (before the shows):
- a digital piano (of any kind), with a stand and some sort of speakers for practicing. anyone? we'll happily trade you show tickets and get you a coffee. or tea. or water…whatever your little heart desires.

if you're in melbourne have leads on any of this gear, or you think you know someone who can help us....email! us@amandapalmer.net.
(& if you think you have something comparable, talk to us! we're open)

.............................

yes, virginia....there are going to be synthesizers on the album.

...........................

i am so excited.

i am so, so, so excited.

i am more excited than rebecca black on a thursday night.

i am so excited i just rubbed one of my eyebrows off by accident.



THAT'S HOW EXCITED I AM

here we go, here we go, here we go

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


LOVE,
AFP

Cross-posted to amandapalmer.net

hola dear comrades......

greetings from sunny melbourne, I've decamped here for the next few months and have some incredible news forthcoming about my new record, stay tuned...will be letting the magic shit hit the fan in the next week or so. 

better yet, get the blog emailed straight to your inbox: HERE.

SO…

i already wrote a blog about the recording of this song back in june, but the video is another matter, and i'd like to do some explaining.
 
first of all, the reason we decided to make a video for this song AT ALL was because we were so fucking thrilled with the way it came out...and it got a hugely positive response when SPIN magazine released it on their "nevermind" tribute compilation. i cut a deal with SPIN that we could release the song ourselves (HOORAY NO LABEL) after a few months went by, and that time has come. so we're releasing it - a brand new master with some cleanups to the mix thanks to chad and michael - direct through my website/bandcamp for cost + donation. this is always the deal with cover songs since we need to pay about 50¢ a song for royalty rates plus the paypal fees to charge ANYTHING AT ALL (which is, indeed, weird). and yes, it's also up on iTunes, amazon, etc. but i won't see as much from any of those places so as always, DIRECT=the best way.
 
when i was first asked to do a cover of a song from "nevermind," SPIN sent me a list of tracks that were still available (i think there were 5 left) and eric sussman, in my management, wrote back immediately saying "WTF NOBODY'S TAKEN POLLY???" and that set my brain on the track to think about how the band could possibly cover the song.
 
the band is an important part of this....
 
 ....i'm about to make a huge, new solo record with these guys (chad, michael, and jherek) under the moniker of AMANDA PALMER & THE GRAND THEFT ORCHESTRA and this cover song was a chance for us (minus jherek, who hadn't come on board yet) to get into the studio and start feeling each other out. everyone in the band plays a variety of instruments....chad plays guitar, keys, and trumpet, but for the "polly" cover he picked up a banjo. jherek's going to be playing the bass (mostly), and michael will generally be on the drums (but for this "polly" recording michael played bass, and you can see him doing so for about .96 seconds in the video). michael's also (among other things, he's a total renaissance hack) a great director and an engineer. 
 
rule number one of modern bands: make sure everyone can do AT LEAST FIVE JOBS (seriously, look at the credits on this thing when you watch the video). 
    
so, i decided it might be a fun idea to make a low-budget video for "polly" with michael in the director's chair & his pal sarah lasley behind the camera.
 
i wrote the treatment one night in san francisco, while i was on tour with neil (and, coincidentally, waiting in a bar for noah briton to bring me my passport, which i'd left in.....boston.....long story...dude saved my ASS) and emailed it over to michael. he got a crew together on a shoestring budget, cast the actors, and we were good to go.

...........................................................  
 
here are some of the best stills & behind-the scenes shots from the day we shot…
 
getting The Face done, by the incredible make-up artist justin tyme, at a gas station:


blake getting done up out of the back of a truck:

 
sarah shooting the escape (click to enlarge):


before we got to new haven, we were trying to twitter-source a rad vintage car…
then we get to the gas station we're shooting some of the video at, and michael noticed THIS:


…AND THEY LET US BORROW IT. I DIED.

look at 'er…she's gorgeous (click to enlarge):


and it's just PERFECT in the video…you'll see.

here are some gorgeous stills from the video (which if-you-so-choose, you can use as alternate cover artwork when you download the song):









 
...........................................................
 
before we recorded the song itself, at yale, where michael had free access to a studio, i had a couple chats with him beforehand about the direction of the cover.
 
i'd been googling and found out things about the song i'd never known…
from wiki:
Bass player Krist Novoselic remembers Kurt Cobain writing "Polly" after reading a newspaper article about the abduction, torture, and rape of a 14-year-old girl who had just finished attending a rock show in Tacoma, Washington. In June 1987 Gerald Arthur Friend picked up a 14-year-old female friend after leaving a concert at the Tacoma Dome. Upon trying to exit the car the girl was handcuffed and held hostage at knife point. The girl was taken to a mobile home where she was tortured and raped with various objects for two days. She was also threatened with a blowtorch.
 
the story continued and the google trail led to strange places....
apparently there was a guy (a nirvana fan) who bragged about raping a girl while the song played, and kurt spoke out against it publicly.
kurt was, after all, a feminist.
 
i wanted the song, and later, the video, to focus on the terrifying experience of being....trapped like that.
the video, seen without any knowledge of the backstory, would probably come across differently, and i wondered for a while whether to spread the story behind the song along with the clip.
i think it makes it better.
i'd recommend watching this when you have a quiet moment, and with headphones (trust me):

hola hola.

in quick melbourne show news: about 500 of you in Melbourne got an email yesterday from The Wheeler Centre telling you that this friday's talk with meow meow ("FRANK") was cancelled & that you'd be refunded. lots of people tweeted asking what was up...there was confusion, and i'm sorry you didn't hear it straight from me. meow is sick but alive; no alarm. we're definitely going to reschedule; just not sure when.

i'm so sorry about it; nothing to be done EXCEPT...
for those of you who were flying to the event, i've added a ninja gig Saturday morning unlike any other!!! i'm going to play AT A GARAGE SALE at ROSE CHONG'S costume shop where my friends Antony and Jess work. come, sift through elvis jackets, buy koala suits, try on powdered wigs, and hear ukulele. what could be better on a Saturday afternoon in melbourne? the event/more deets are on FB (RSVP here). i'll be on around 1pm.
come play…?

also: stay tuned to the twitter feed for a possible show to be added Sunday night (the 26th) - it's looking probable.


SO……………

it's been a busy week in melbourne, gigging and working my ass off while simultaneously quieting my head and voice down and getting ready to record the album. some of the things i've been doing have been deliberately chosen to prep my album brain...like the songwriting talk to mac.robertson girl's school in melbourne:



...the public letter-writing-and-reading forum held every few months in melbourne called "women of letters," curated by the incredible marieke hardy...at which i wrote and read aloud a letter that made me cry....here we are (wendy harmer, virginia triolli, georgia fields, moi, and nicki greenberg):


...or the foreward that i crammed out last night for a book called "live through this," about art and self-destruction, about to go into its second edition. the more i try to write the more respect i have for neil. Jesus it's hard. 

but some things have just been sheer abstract distraction...like the random idea i had to collaborate with chipmusic artist Dot_AY to sing Lana Del Rey's "video games" with my wrists tied up at the BLIP festival a few nights ago. i don't know what it is about that song...but ever since the first time i heard it i've wanted to sing it tied up. it just seemed like the right thing to do. i fucked up the first entry and some of the lyrics. but it's still pretty awesome.

(click here for the vimeo upload)

the band is all in town and we're getting bikes for everyone...and getting settled, and getting ready to create what i want to believe is going to be the best and most creative record i've ever made. we picked the right city. 

melbourne loves us, and we love melbourne. i've never felt so much love for a city in my life...not quite this way. introducing my band to the city and watching them fall in love as i nervously coax them from spot to spot is like the feeling of introducing the person you've fallen madly in love with to your friends. you want them to fall in love too. you want to know it's not just you. you want them to feel the same fever. they do. 

pj said it perfect :

and i feel like
some bird of paradise
my bad fortune
slipping away
and i feel the innocence of a child
everybody's got something good to say


g'night people of the world
afp

Cross-posted to amandapalmer.net

hola comrades!

i'm gong to embed some songs for you to listen to while you read this one. try it.

.................

newses & shows first........skip this if you're not in melbourne/australia.


it's you, it's you, it's all for you, you citizens of melbourne:

i semi-apologize, but you're about to get REALLY SICK OF ME.
i'm moving in for a few months. i got my visa.
you will not be able to get rid of me....i am going to do so much shit in your town that avoiding me will be as difficult as avoiding that steve jobs biography in an airport bookstore.

here's all the random melbourne events i've just announced, and there's another big surprise coming, so don't get too bored yet:

feb 17th: FREE & SUSTAINABLE
i'm playing in FEDERATION SQUARE, all ages, FREE show as part of the sustainable living festival at 9:30 pm...more info/RSVP HERE on facebook.
the same night, a few hours later at 11:45, i'll be popping on-stage for ONE song in the spiegeltent as part of club spiegel. if you've never been to the tent, use this an an excuse, and make a night out of this whole deal. federation square and the spiegeltent (in front of the arts centre) are about a 5 minute walk from each other. the club spiegel show is $10 at door (HERE are pre-book tix with supper/HERE's the RSVP).

feb 19: WOMEN OF LETTERS
i'm doing WOMEN of LETTERS with the wonderful marieke hardy, which is a series of events in which people get together, drink wine, and write postal letters to people. it sold out immediately, but if you can score a ticket through illicit means, i recommend it.

feb 24th: ME & MEOW MEOW GET "FRANK" IN A SIT-DOWN THEATER
me and my long lost cabaret friend MEOW MEOW are TAKING OVER THE ATHENAEUM THEATER and doing a live, on-stage "talk about everything in our lives night"....
we've decided to call it AMANDA PALMER & MEOW MEOW ARE: FRANK.
it was inspired when i saw neil and tom stoppard doing the same venue presented by the wheeler center and they told me they'd love to have me as a speaking guest. i saw meow for dinner the next night....and since meow and i have the habit of staying up and talking about life until 3 am ANYWAY, i figured we might has well get on stage and share.
come and talk with us. we're going to banter back and forth about love, life, relationships, touring, being women, and then take questions from and chat with the audience. the venue is BEAUTIFUL, and the tickets will go fast. we kept them as cheap as we possibly could, and the event is all ages. buy tickets and spread the word. it's all ages and $20.
go HERE for tickets.

...........................................


so....

i found peter jefferies.

i'd been looking for a long time.

this past few weeks has been such a strange and ongoing musical christmas. i've been meeting and playing with so many heroes & big influences in my life.

peter is different. peter is different pretty much nobody knows him. he affords no bragging rights.
but he's the biggest one to me.
his music did something important to me, something hard to explain.

i was 18. i was walking down a cold winter harvard square street on christmas break from my freshman year at college, where i was miserable and alone.

here. play this while you read....

we made them watch our Band Rehearsal. peter agreed to play tambourine on "we're happy little vegemites." i agreed to play drums on "wild thing."

he asked me to play "astronaut." he said he wanted to see how i played it.
and he played some of his songs for me. 

i watched his hands and he watched mine. he says he liked the way the three fingers on my right hand shot up into the air when i did octaves. 

can you understand why this guy was my hero?

he plays like THIS:

meanwhile, on my buzzing iphone, a nice gal named felice from the govett-brewster museum/ in new plymouth tweeted an invite for us to stop by.
new plymouth being the booming, sprawling metropolis that it is, the museum was about a 2 minute walk from the record shop.

i told peter over lunch that we could go. he didn't get it. "she twittered," i said.

he seemed slightly baffled as to what we were doing. who? why?

it was in that moment that i realized how much weird normalcy i've found in my constant, virtual crowdsurfing via the internet. i literally take for granted the fact that i survive on the road through these little 140-character invitations....invitations to enjoy life in all its various shapes and sizes, from food to accommodation to museum visits to ninja gigs to beers to spare guitars, it just makes obvious sense to me. someone invites: you go. you need: you ask.
it's gotten to the point where i feel like nothing is unobtainable. if we don't have it: we twitter for it. and it appears.
this is how i live now.

to peter, who doesn't have a website, much less a social networking obsession, this must have seemed very strange.

we waltzed up to the gallery and got a quick private tour of the joint, including the beautiful and disturbing underwater vincent ward photos
(for size perspective, the photos are on a wall about 30 feet away from the balcony we're standing on):


here's one of my favorites...."rebirth":


.....and then we left, and played our record-store gig. 

the store, vinyl countdown, was perfect and full of old records and shirts and children and good feelings. full of lots of people came and we had a blast. peter played a handful of his songs on guitar and i played a handful of uke songs, and we played our set of silly cover songs....brought to you by the letter W. i'll tweet the only video footage i got once the time is right. peter killed it.
watching him play the songs i knew so well felt so powerful in so many ways. just knowing that this was his first outing in that many years and that our random collision had made it happen felt like something beyond my comprehension.

when we were done, peter's wife stef told me she'd never seen him happier. peter looked like he was....in a dazed and happy state. we hugged a lot.
then we all went back to their homestead for drinks, but peter stopped me in the driveway before we went into the house. he asked if i wanted to hear one last song.

yes.

it was getting chilly out....in the dim light of the bug-clustered driveway lamp, he pulled out his guitar from its case and played "don't look down," a song that i knew from the "electricity" record as a solo piano number. i found the words spilling onto my brain-tip, that same motor mechanism that was running when i played the violent femmes gig. the music and words all in my blood & veins, even if i haven't heard the song in years. it's etched on some permanent card catalogue of emotions in the recess of my soul. i sang along, quietly, in awe of the moment. i watched myself in that dark driveway from age 18....there you are amanda, getting a private concert from your soul brother. yes. you've found him.

inside, there was a small, warm celebration of the day going on, beers being opened, laughter and cigarettes...a half dozen people gathered on peter and stef's porch.

peter picked up his guitar and i followed him inside. we walked through the house and found everybody.
then, for the collection of people sitting on the porch, he played the song again.
this time, i asked him i could film.....it was too dark to get an image, but i almost like it like that. it's an audio recording only, which is better. you can hear the cars passing by.
it's not until now, listening to the lyrics and thinking about everything that was happening in that very moment....peter sharing his stories with me, his playing in public for the first time after 8 years of silence, the collisions, coming home.....that i realize how fucking perfect and profound this song was.

maybe he knew, too.

in reverse, it feels like the question to which "in my mind" was the answer that came....15 years later.

.........................................

peter asked me to play "astronaut" one more time for everybody at the end of the night, on the upright in their bedroom. 
i did. my voice was broken, but i don't think i've ever been happier to deliver a request.

then i left. i drove back to my crashpad in the middle of rural new zealand nowhere, with my brights on...feeling a sort of feeling i'd never felt before.
different than playing with heroes, different from meeting mentors, different from being acknowledged.

like.....
.....i'm doing what i'm supposed to do, and maybe for the first time i feel like i'm doing it right.


the beach is ever changing



love
AFP

p.s. if you want to hear the studio version of "don't look down", here you go:

it's an afternoon celebrating female talent whilst simultaneously raising funds for an animal rescue shelter. $15 in advance, $20 at the door (but it will probably sell out early go GET YOUR TICKETS NOW)…RSVP on facebook, tell your peoples, and we'll see you there………

now, ze blog… 

unfortunately, there's not an easy way to get the records wherein peter will actually see some money from 'em, most everything out there for sale is second hand...whatever you do, just make sure to listen and spread the word.

SO, he said he'd play with me at the record store.

he hasn't played live in 9 years.

what the fuck is going on around here?

just kill me.

something astounding happened in auckland as well.

zanni.

zanni's a beautiful free-style-style-rapper girl who's accosted me at every signing and gig i've done in auckland to the point where i'd be sad if she DIDN'T show up and do a beautifully filthy dirty little rap for me at the end of the signing line. we saw her at the library ninja gig, where, by the by, i crowd surfed for the first time on top of a group of SEATED people. I discovered that while it WORKS, it doesn't work QUITE AS WELL as doing it with a group of sweaty-crowded-standing people, as people aren't able to shift and use their legs to support your weight. (LIBRARY NINJA GIGS ARE EDUCATIONAL…photo by sarahisinsane):



zanni found me at signing and delivered a very disturbing but very hilarious and well-executed one-minute song (think le tigre meets die antwoord) and i told her she should perform on stage with us, that i'd just slip her in-between songs during our set. then she pulled me and her friend aside; said she wanted to talk. she thanked me for my support of occupy. and she told me that in three days she was getting an abortion. i felt a deep connection with her and we talked a while, me about my experiences, her about hers.

and this would all be a brutal breach of trust if she hadn't down something absolutely astounding: she took the stage that same night and by way of introducing her song, told the assembled crowd of 700 people what she was about to go through.

it didn't smack of attention-getting or poor-me drama, it just felt like a bold statement, and she mentioned how the song "oasis" had helped her. then she delivered her song to the crowd. bam. i felt so many things in that moment. proud of her, because it takes extreme fucking guts to get up in front of a group of 700 people and say something so personal, but also proud of the band, and proud of the audience....because we've collectively created a space where something like that can happen. this really is a special fucking things we have, it's a collective of people who really trust each other. i see it again and again at the shows....people take care of each other JUST BECAUSE they're THERE, and they're dolls/amanda palmer fans, and there's a moral code of honesty and sharing and awesomeness.

also, it was thrilling and profound to have richard o'brien in the audience for that moment.

if you don't know anything about "the rocky horror show" or the community, it's hard to explain. but that film and the tangled, ongoing community are unlike anything else. and it was HUGE to me as a kid. i remember watching my older brother and sisters putting crazy make-up on in the bathroom to "go to rocky." they were teenagers. i was 9, and too young to go. and as far as i was concerned, they were headed to xanadu, to paradise, to heaven, to whatever place there was where people get made-up and dressed-up all crazy-like and bring bags of toast and rice stuff to a movie in order to throw shit at the screen. i knew who i was, i knew what i wanted, and i knew it was THAT. i couldn't fucking wait to join a world where shit like that happened. one of the most devasting moments of my life was convincing my parents to let me out alone at night on our family summer vacation to london when i was 15. i'd been fantasizing about going to the live, LONDON, rocky horror picture show for MONTHS. in fact, it was the only thing that excited me about going to london, because other than robert smith, it was the only thing i really cared about in the UK. i took the tube by myself, found my way to the theater....and the show was fucking sold out. i was, as they say, GUTTED.

rocky horror has been a universal umbrella under which generations of punk rock theater freaks have bonded in weird solidarity.

it's the closest we get to a religious experience, a shared myth, the epic story we know by hear...it's church.

more importantly: a haven where all is possible....where you don't dream it, you be it.

when zanni got up and told her story at our show, with richard there to bear witness, making her statement and singing her crazy song, i felt it all coming together.

the church gets passed down, finds its own soundtrack, but the general rules and regulations stay the same: a space where the outsider is the insider, where the unusual is celebrated instead of judged and mocked, where we crush fear and worship at the altar of Get Your Freak On. all the shit of life, the pain, the sorrow, the loves lost, the health issues, the relationship problems, the jobs lost, the friends and families dying before our very eyes, we don't come to this holy place to FORGET about it.

on the contrary, we come to celebrate, to yell at the top of our lungs about it, scream-share it, throw the burden on the ground and dance around it....finding solace there among our brethren.

all the pain and all the joy all together in one beautiful mishmash puddle of This Is Life and We're All In It Fucking Together.

and this is why we do what we do.

do i sound like a hippie?

let me fix that



FUCK YOU.



this is it.



x
AFP.

Cross-posted to amandapalmer.net

hola dear comrades!!!!!

here's the best news of the day.....i'm on page three of the main tasmanian newspaper (photo via @newrosehotel):

(here's the uncensored original photo…and here's a mirror in case twitpic pulls it down, since in the past they've seemed anti-tits)

...dianna graf took the picture in front of city hall.
here's the article, online.

i wish the people at this newspaper this understood the hilarity and irony of their censorship, given what song they're referencing…

THEY DON'T SHOW THE TITS IN THE NEWSPAPER!!!!

THEY DON'T KNOW THAT WE ARE THE MEDIA!!!!!

as many people on twitter said:
THAT'S WHY PRINT MEDIA IS GONG DOWN THE TUBES.

...................................

o new zealand, new zealand, wonderful country of magic-green-rain-rolling-hills....today i woke up and walked randomly through the city of auckland...we play the powerstation tonight.

after browsing in a fantastic bookstore called Unity (i always take a secret perverse pleasure in photographing the neil gaiman section



and emailing it to neil. i'm like a international publishing spy) i passed a little juice bar, thought twice, backtracked, and walked in. i'd already eaten a banana and was like: i just had a banana. maybe a juice is just over the top. you think these things and think nothing of them. the man in front of me ordered and sat at a little table and right after i ordered, he asked me if i was going to see the dresden dolls tonight.

why yes, i am.
i always do this to people. it's kind of mean. but i get the feeling that i might learn secret information from them if i pretend to be a dresden dolls fan. like there's some secret brotherhood or handshake code that the fans just haven't told me about, and i might finally learn it. or someone will lean in and whisper "confidentially...we all secretly cannot stand when she plays the ukulele, but we all PLAY ALONG UNIVERSALLY, HOPING that someday she'll come to her senses." or something like that. so far it's never happened. so far i just let people talk to me about bullshit for 30 seconds and then i say "guess what" and they're like "what" and i'm like "i'm the singer."

so this man, he says "well, it was your eyebrows. i figured with eyebrows like that you'd be going to the dresden dolls."

and i was like "yeah."

long story short: this man was richard o'brien, creator of "the rocky horror show" (aka "the rocky horror picture show").

i die.

i'm not going to say anything else, other than YOU SHOULD COME TO THE FUCKING SHOW TONIGHT IN AUCKLAND. magic is a-fucking-foot.

what is it about coming to australasia and meeting my fucking soul heroes?
stop, already. if i bump into robert smith at a water fountain while jogging in wellington, i'm going to just kill myself.

does robert smith do his hair like that when he jogs?

DOES ROBERT SMITH JOG??

i wonder these things.

..............................................................

speaking of heroes, i want to plug a BOOK and a TOUR....
if you've been following my twitter feed you've been seeing me constantly referencing and quoting paul kelly's book, "how to make gravy."
who is this paul kelly, you ask? i've mentioned him in the blog before....he's a sort of australian folk/rock/mongrel (he'd enjoy that) legend....
a writer of songs that are part cohen, part dylan, part his own fucking thing. he's a huge deal in australia but when he tours the states/europe he's lesser known.
his book was spawned from a string of shows he decided to do some years back called the "A-Z" shows. he played 100 of his songs over the course of four nights at the spiegeltent (BELOVED) in melbourne...all in alphabetical order, and with accompanying behind-the-music tales of life and love.

the shows were a hit and he decided it might be fun to create a book around the concept, and "how to make gravy" was born. it wound up taking him several years to write and it's an EPIC collection of brutally honest, funny, bizarre ingredients into what makes a songwriter's life. the format of the book itself follows the A-Z concept....he starts with A songs and tells out-of-chronological-order stories of his life, his family's immigrant heritage, the romantic and unromantic perils of heroin abuse....you name it, he goes there. it's a brave, bold book, and it's chock full of creative inspiration and insight....i found myself thinking YES YES YES a lot while reading his deep-soul-baring thoughts and embarrassing notes on the writing process itself...on stealing, lifting, the strange experience of giving birth to songs.
i'd recommend it to any songwriter, it's a gem...or any artists...or any person, really. grand fucking book:



meanwhile....his songs are bloody good, too. brian and i used to cover "winter coat," one of my favorites...HERE's a great clip of paul doing it live in '07....

and HERE's one of his most well-known more politico-folk songs, "from little things big things grow" known to almost everyone in australia; it can make you cry if you're in the right mood.

he's going on tour in the states and europe and since i know he's playing teeny places, i asked his management if we could give away some tickets to his shows to help promote them to my fanbase. stay tuned to the twitter and my site for updates if we're able to get a few…
i'm always shocked that NOBODY knows him....here's your chance.....tickets are on sale NOW for ALL of the shows (except a few have already sold out)…grab yours/see the full list of where he'll be around the world at his site: paulkelly.com.au

here's where he's hitting in the states:

February 28
AUSTIN, TX
Cactus Cafe

February 29
AUSTIN, TX
Cactus Cafe

March 3
PITTSBURGH, PA
Club Cafe

March 4
CHARLSETON, WV
Mountain Stage / Cultural Center Theatre

March 6
NEW YORK, NY
Rockwood Music Hall (Stage 2)

March 7
NEW YORK, NY
Rockwood Music Hall (Stage 2)

March 8
NEW YORK, NY
Rockwood Music Hall (Stage 2)

March 9
NEW YORK, NY
Rockwood Music Hall (Stage 2)

Sunday, March 11
VIENNA, VA
Jammin' Java

March 12
VIENNA, VA
Jammin' Java

March 14
PHILADELPHIA, PA
World Cafe Live (upstairs)

March 15
PHILADELPHIA, PA
World Cafe Live (upstairs)

March 16
CAMBRIDGE, MA
Club Passim

March 17
CAMBRIDGE, MA
Club Passim

March 20
LOS ANGELES, CA
Largo at the Coronet

March 22
SAN FRANCISCO, CA
Swedish American Hall

March 23
SAN FRANCISCO, CA
Swedish American Hall

March 25
SEATTLE, WA
The Triple Door

March 26
SEATTLE, WA
The Triple Door

again, tickets can be found HERE. GO!!!
.....................................................................

i've been obsessed lately (in that sort of jonbenét ramsey fascinated kind of way) with lana del rey.
her face stares out at me from posters in the street and ever since her saturday night live debacle, i've been following the story and the news with an uncharacteristic-for-me fervor.
that "video games" song has been stuck in my brain like a tumor and there's something so disturbing and spooky about her whole deal.

here's an interesting piece i read last night that touches on some of the issues:
"can lana del rey survive in the age of adele?" - read it here, via spinner.com

i have fantasies of covering "video games" in a full 60s sparkly-gown nancy sinatra bouffant get-up....at an old-school microphone, standing stock still while some credible-looking black dude plays the piano.

then the camera pans down and my wrists and ankles are bound in heavy-duty bondage rope. IMAGINE THE CLIP. i need more off-days.

there's something about it that seems to mean something bigger, about culture right now, about talent and artifice, about....i dunno. i'm still putting my thoughts together, but i feel like a big blog about performance/lady gaga/lana del rey is percolating in my domepiece. if you have any pre-blog thoughts - hit me in the comments, below.
the whole thing's very strange but very of the moment.

i think the main key is that the artifice-without-acknowledgment-of-artifice might be OVER in these post-modern days of ours....or maybe that's just wishful brechtian thinking.

comments, go. 

...................................................................




i like masturbating in hotels, and i also get a special-weird extra boost of pleasure when i know people in the next room can hear me.
i added that part to the subject of the blog to get you to read it.

which reminds me....so many journalists have been asking me "what won't you blog about?" lately that i think i'm going to blog a list of "what i won't blog about."
blogging about liking to masturbate in hotels will not be on that list.


....................................................................


speaking of masturbating but not that he has anything to do with masturbating but i like tying the sections of my blog together so just deal with it:
neil is home and working and clearing out his headspace to start his own New Big Things. he and i are almost on the same creative menstrual cycle....probably not by accident.
i think if you marry an artist who makes Big Things and you're an artist who makes Big Things, chances are you'll start grooving in the same cycle...hunkering down at the same points and mining your souls simultaneously in different corners of the same room. i love his so very much and can't believe how fucking lucky i am to have found a man who actually wanted a rock star for a wife: not the image; the person. rock stars are so easy to love from a distance. up close it's like hugging a time bomb made of vapor. but he does it.

and in a few weeks, or maybe sooner....i will reveal my hereto secret brand-new-music plans to you.
Big Things are afoot.

LOVE,
AFP

p.s. thank you for all the comments on the blog in general. i do read them all, even when i'm on tour and not responding as much. just...thank you. you guys are collectively amazing. even the dickish person who keeps calling me a dirty scientologist hooker....keep it coming....i love you all!!!!

Cross-posted from amandapalmer.net

warning: if the following record album
 

 
didn't change your life, ignore this blog. my enthusiasm will make no sense to you.
 
everybody else, read on.
 
we announced this about an hour ago.....hot off the presses. so you know, this is news that has our inner teenagers feeling kind of like THIS:
 

 
 
here's the way low down.
 
brian ritchie (the original bassist for the violent femmes)...
 

 
....is now the curator for a festival called MONA FOMA that the dolls are about to play....this thursday, in hobart, tasmania. mofo.net.au / http://on.fb.me/MOFOrsvp
 
the femmes haven't played together as a group since 2009, and if you look at the wiki, looks like that might be the end of the story. (especially if you read the "LAWSUIT & BREAKUP" section.)
 
brian and i are no strangers to brian ritchie: we both WORSHIPPED the violent femmes as kids and were more or less beside ourselves when they let us hop on stage and guest with them at a festival in wisconsin in 2005 (ish). brian played washboard and i played tambourine. or something like that. it was SYMBOLIC for christsakes. let me google image that....
 
ok. i was on melodica. BRIAN was on washboard. there we are. that's mr gordon gano singing.
 

 
 
back to the story.
 
i played the tasmania MoFo festival this same time last year, and brian and i hit it off. he was a model curator and impeccable host; he threw the dinner party where neil and i got to break bread with nick cave and grinderman. the whole town was lit up by the festival, it was heaven. i'd really wanted to return and was delighted when the dolls got re-invited. it's rare for a festival to let an act come two years in a row. but this is MoFo and the curators do what they fucking want, which is what makes the festival amazing.
 
so, it's three days ago, saturday. brian ritchie called up and told me that one of the acts for this friday (the day after our slot) had canceled...would the dolls feel up to playing a second set? we'd scheduled ourselves to stay in town an extra few days so that we could catch PJ Harvey and tUnEyArDs and the other incredible acts that MoFo usually serves up. (plus do some secret ninja gigs about town and go to the legendary MONA museum - one of the most fascinating places IN THE WORLD).
 
sure, i said, but isn't it kind of weird to have the band come back the NEXT DAY to the same festival and play again, even if it's a different set of music?
we should do something more interesting.
 
we thought about it. errr.
 
i started imagining a bodypainting party and parade. but still - ho hum. naked tasmanians. who HASN'T SEEN THAT?
 
we thought some more.
 
i asked brian what the line up for the rest of the day was. were there any musicians we could poach and do something bizarre with?
 
well, he said, there is a bagpipe band. 
 
BAGPIPES?
totally sold. call the bagpipers, i said. at least a couple of them. 
 
i imagined putting a shout-out to all tasmanians over twitter for a commando-parade, with kilts if possible, but with underwear verboten. i had to think fast. 
ok, i said, we'll have a dresden dolls-bagpipe showdown. and naked parade. that'll be SOMETHING, at least. hm.
 
i got off the phone feeling like there MUST be something more interesting we could do.
 
then it hit me.
 
brian ritchie. bass player. idol.
 
i texted brian: do you want to play bass with us?
 
he said sure.
 
eeeeeeeeeeeee.
 
and i thought some more.
 
i texted brian again, holding my breath this time: don't take it the wrong way, but how would you feel about playing bass on THE ENTIRE VIOLENT FEMMES FIRST RECORD?
brian and i know it COLD.
 
i sat there staring at the phone, expecting a brian-ritchie-shaped hand with a gun to reach out of the black screen and shoot me for even asking.
 
the longer the clock ticked, the more embarrassed and tasteless i felt about asking.
 
brian texted back. 
 
he said yes.
 
eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.
 
i ran to find mr. brian viglione. he exploded with glee. 
 
i will play the drums, he said. 
 
now all we needed was a guitarist.
the femmes were always a trio: drums, guitar, and bass. since i was going to sing and can't play any of those fucking instruments, we were going to have to dig up a fourth player.
i texted brian ritchie back: this will only work if you score a guitar player from tasmania. 
 
he said he'd see what he could do.
 
nail biting.
brian and i went to the beach and ran around like crazy idiots, squeeing with all our might.
 
then we went to see PJ harvey, who's touring at the same time as us down here. 
 
as i mentioned on last blog: her back-up band for this tour includes the incredible mick harvey (also known for his solo and nick cave & the bad seeds work) and john parish (who produces a lot of PJs stuff).
they both play everything: bass, guitar, keys. they did a lot of musical-chairing in the PJ set. after the show we went backstage to say hi to mick, who i know from a few years back in melbourne. 
 
i was like....
it's worth a shot.
 
they both play guitar.
 
eek.
 
so, i asked.
 
they said yes. john parish and mick harvey will both play guitar with our violent femmes cover supergroup.
 
if you could only hear the screams that were emitted in the backstage area of the perth concert hall.
 
so, my comrades,
WE HAVE A BAND:
 
Brian Ritchie - Bass (and possibly xylophone)
Brian Viglione - Drums
AFP - Vocals/Piano
Mick Harvey - guitar (and possibly bass)
John Parish - guitar (and possibly bass)
 
and we have a setlist:
 
THIS WHOLE FUCKING RECORD, FROM START TO FINISH.
 

 
"Blister in the Sun" 
"Kiss Off" 
"Please Do Not Go" 
"Add It Up" 
"Confessions"
"Prove My Love" 
"Promise" 
"To the Kill" 
"Gone Daddy Gone" 
"Good Feeling" 
 
 
YOU HAVE EXACTLY THREE DAYS TO BOOK A PLANE TICKET FROM WHEREVER YOU ARE GET TO THE MONA FOMA FESTIVAL IN TASMANIA.
the historic event will take place at 10 pm on friday on the MONA FOMA mainstage. tickets (festival passes and day passes) are still available at http://bit.ly/MOFOtix and you can RSVP on facebook here: http://on.fb.me/ViolentMOFOrsvp
 
 
THIS IS WHAT FESTIVALS SHOULD BE ABOUT.
 
RANDOMNESS!!!! HERO WORSHIP!!!! CLASSIC SONGS!!! DANCING WILDLY!!!!
TOTAL SPONTANEOUS EXPERIMENTS THAT MAY FAIL MISERABLY!!!!!
 
and.....
 
holy fuck.
 
i can't believe this is happening.
on stage, with three of our musical heroes, playing OUR FAVORITE RECORD EVAR.
 
somebody pinch me please.
 
 
 
 
 
 
xxxxx
 
AFP
 
 
p.s. ALWAYS. ASK. YOU. NEVER. KNOW.

Cross-posted from amandapalmer.net

some exciting news for you before the blog…

our friends at moshcam are webcasting the show RIGHT NOW in high-quality-multi-camera-glory…RSVP on facebook HERE, tell your friends to watch with you, tune in at partyontheinternet.com and we shall see you all on the internetz…or, well, you'll see us.

(be warned, the player might not work on mobile devices/tablets/etc so try and get to a computer ASAP)

onwards…
_________

thursday night in brisbane was the first night of the australian dresden dolls tour.
 
the night before
 
i went into one of those AHHH I'M FINALLY ALONE youtube/internet holes i often find myself rapidly jetting down when i have my nights back to myself, cuddle-free, post-neil. useful, isn't it? 
 
all that wiki-ing MUST BE GOOD FOR ME SOMEHOW. maybe it is.
 
the internet can poison you. but then provide the cure. watch.
 
i stumbled upon something totally unexpected that wound up jerking me around - the way it tends to. there was a thread i hadn't noticed before on the band forum with a full 29 pages of discussion, so i clicked on it. i don't post on (or read) the forum as much as i used to...i used to post daily. i still go there from time to time to share news or see how everybody's getting on but twitter has become a much more immediate place to connect with folks, and the forum seems to have become its own self-sustaining community.
 
the thread was called "I hate Amanda". as i read it i found myself being forced to examine, with fascination, along with a few dozen fans, the last 3 years of my life and career. all my choices and how they have and haven't sat well with people. everything from my ukulele playing to going independent and constantly trying to raise capital via merchandising....all of it.
i forget that people have opinions sometimes. i think it's a very good thing, that forgetting. the opinions are good, no doubt, even the negative ones...without them the fanbase would be an intolerable mass of sycophants, instead of a bunch of smart, funny people that i genuinely love most of the time. 
 
the girl who posted it was complaining about how she misses the old incarnation of amanda, how she hates the ukulele, how she's lost her connection, how she doesn't like my choices.
i watched myself, my projects, my business choices, my social skills....my life being academically discussed and batted around, defended by many, examined like a phenomenon. i'm always impressed, i have to admit, by the extreme intelligence and sheer civility of these fights on the board. there are multiple voices of reason who keep the debate relatively grown-up and on track, and people who simply whine end up looking like whiners, while everybody else engages in spirited batty-aroundy-dialogue. i'm always very proud of the people who write there. they're smart. 
 
it was important to me that this girl wasn't a troll from out of nowhere, posting that i was an evil scientologist gorgon (those people do exists, and they're very, very easy to ignore), she was a long-time fan who just isn't into me anymore. there's been a lot of these people. i've changed. my music used to be angst and piano-driven, and i've spent the better part of a few years traipsing around writing three-chord songs on the ukulele.
 
but that's what i've wanted to do. 
 
if you're famous: i advise you to never read these fucking discussions. in the words of my best friend and mentor: don't be like me. i'd (ironically) JUST been having the dont-read-the-critics-discussion with neil. for certain kinds of information, it can be wonderful and connecting, but it's far too easy to fall down the bottomless pit of your own mirrored ego. anyway....i didn't read all 29 pages, just skimmed. but it was enough to irk me.
 
it's funny: sometimes i forget that people are judging me. most of the time i'm so fucking high on my own ideas and impulses that i forget someone might disagree with a single one of them.
 
this is, i think, the only way to ever move forward.
 
this is, i think, the only way to make art. 
 
not good art. not bad art....
 
ANY art.
 
i always feel lost as an artist. 
i actually have come, in a twisted way, to enjoy the lostness. sometimes, even, to enjoy the criticism. more and more i get that the criticism is a very real and important part of the story.
for every and any choice i make, there are a million i don't make. 
 
do i make the choices to ... make people happy? to make money? to stroke my own ego, or have it stroked by others? 
 
to fill some deep inner need to make art for no reason?
 
well....all of these, actually. in some impossible-to-measure combination. 
 
you have to work without critics in your head. otherwise you turn into a pleaser. 
which is boring to be. and boring to watch.
i know that, deeply. to the core.
 
it didn't matter. 
i was irritated with myself for letting the hungry ghosts of other peoples egos penetrate my night.
i went to bed feeling soul-poisoned and grumpy and wishing i hadn't read the argument.
tomorrow was the first night of our tour, and i was feeling knocked off center. 
 
i was in a terrible mood as i drifted off the sleep, and woke feeling icky and distorted.
 
................
 
the day before, zea barker send me a link the day before the brisbane show, about an installation in the Brisbane Gallery of Modern Art.
 
the japanese artist yayoi kusama, known for her obsessive polka-dotted works, had set up a blank white room....
 

(these photos are by mark sherwood from the blog zea sent me)
 
 
...and let children loose in it, with stickers. 
 

 
....and it was opened to the public, who HAD AT IT. soon it was this:

 
 
 
.....the obliteration room.
 
i was entranced. i shared the link on twitter and immediately someone at the museum named dan tweeted me back, telling me they'd be happy if i stopped by.
i sent him a direct message: can i invite people and play ukulele? he replied: absolutely. 
 
and a ninja gig was born for 1 pm the next day. BAM.
 
sean (my secret blog-poster and internet-helper) wisely suggested that we ask everybody to wear solid colors if possible (hi-five sean) and i tried to rustle up something white. someone on twitter offered to bring some white thigh-highs.
 
it was the night before, and i'd just gone down the stupid i hate amanda late-night ego-hole, i lay in bed, reading up on yayoi. this is where the hole can take you beyond the ego-trench and into a land of beauty.
 
yayoi has been making art since the 60s and is considered a pioneer of performance art (lots of naked) and conceptual art.
she's struggled with mental health issues from a young age, and her polka-dotted theme is pulled from the dots she would see when she had obsessive visions.
 
she calls the dots "infinity nets," and says they are taken directly from her own hallucinations. she says:
"...a polka-dot has the form of the sun, which is a symbol of the energy of the whole world and our living life, and also the form of the moon, which is calm. Round, soft, colorful, senseless and unknowing. Polka-dots become movement... Polka dots are a way to infinity". (from her wiki)
 
i read more and more. she loves naked. she's influenced yoko.
 
and she lives, by choice, in a mental institution, and walks down the street to her studio.
 
she's often quoted as saying:
 
"if it were not for art, i would have killed myself a long time ago".
 
oh, yayoi.
 
art, and artists choices, are all subject to criticism. 
 
it'll never go away...it'll never end. we're in an infinite hole of criticism.
 
but we must, as artists, we must never, ever listen.
 
you listen to the critics: you die.
 
dot on. dot on. dot on.
 
outside the museum....brian leading the ninja crowd in a game of RHUMBA SIMON SAYS:
 

(photo by erin smith)
 
me singing "amazing grace" with my friend gypsy on slide guitar.....


(this and the next few photos by dragonkatprincess)
 
brian and gypsy...


 
and a few more…
 

 
 
 
 
....then we piled into the gallery, and i let everybody HAVE AT ME with the fucking stickers....
 

(photo by charlyn cameron)

and played ukulele in the kitchen....


(photo by natasha harth)

and played the piano....


(photo by charlyn cameron)


(photo by @betsybookwork)
 

(photo by charly cauchi)
 
 

and jumped into the arms of my beloved....


(photo by megan andrews) 
 
 
 
and right around that moment....my bad mood was lifted.
 
and it was like
 
take THAT past self in bondage of critical academic discussion
 
I OBLITERATE YOU WITH PEOPLE WEARING TOGAS AND PROM DRESSES
 
yayoi
yayoi
 
if only an option like this was available on a daily basis.......
that room healed me.
 
i went to the show that night with a reminded heart, and the show was fucking fantastic.
 
 
(this, and the next few photos by erin smith)


and there was THIS....a secret surprise performance from captain kid of the boy-circus troupe BRIEFS!!!

this also improved my mood. sparkly cock ALWAYS does.

but: the final breaking of my bad mood came with a moment brought to me by our incredible opener, justin AKA the bedroom philosopher:



he's known in australia for a song he wrote called "northcote", a very fucking funny ditty that makes fun of hipster stereotypes in melbourne.
at the brisbane show, instead of the usual verses, he informed the crowd that he'd recently gone into a terrible 3 am youtube hole reading the comments on the "northcote" video.
he decided the only way to combat the evil was to incorporate the comments into the song.
so he sang "northcote" and replaced the standard verses with a recitation of long, stupid, un-intentially hilarious youtube comments read in a mlebourne hipster accent.
i don't think i've ever loved anybody more. us and our internet holes. infinity death.
 
thank you grumpy fangirl.
thank you discussion board. 
thank you zea.
thank you dan.
thank you museum.
thank you people who came to the museum.
thank you brian.
thank you justin the bedroom philosopher.
thank you gypsy.
thank you dogs and children and people lying down.
thank you everyone who loves and does not love me.
 
thank you yayoi.....through staying alive you have made me more alive.
 
this is art. 
 
this is what we do for each other.
 
this is how it works.
 
do you see?
 
go into the bathroom
secretly crouch in the white bathtub or shower
get out the rainbow magic markers
you can DIY it in a pinch.
 
 
OBLITERATE
 
 
XXX 
afp
 
 
p.s. 
here's a youtube clip of brian's rhumba simon says line....if you want to see a bunch of people wildly running around in a park with confused onlookers....
http://youtu.be/UqDD9t2PD-s
 
also....if your'e in brisbane & want to see the room for yourself, get your ass to GOMA. it's FREE: qag.qld.gov.au

yes! 
brisvegas ninja action is back.
 
tomorrow, thursday. 
1 pm. 
all ages. 
at a very very very bad-ass location very centrally located.

a request: ALL ATTENDEES PLEASE DRESS IN SOLID COLORS; red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet, white, black (and if necessary, gray or brown)
that means, please try and find the same colored pants & shirt…the same colored shirt + shoes + pants + headwear = A++++++++
 
here's a hint where it's going to be:
 

 
follow the twitter for exact spot....
then see you all at the tivoli for the dresden dolls' show...
7 pm doors. please, get to the venue on time...the Jane Austen argument is on around 7:30, the bedroom philosopher hits quickly thereafter, and THIS JUST IN: we're going to have a very special performance by BRIEFS (all male, all vaudeville, all trash)…don't miss anything!!!
 
xxx
afp

Cross-posted from amandapalmer.net

hola comrades!!!
 
business first. it's high merch season, lots of you want stuff, and lots of you keep asking about WHAT to buy WHERE so that the money goes to me/the band. i'm drafting a huge blog about all of that....heads up. if you have any SPECIFIC questions (where do i get xx? etc), hit me in the comments below, i'll be scanning while i write this new one. 
 
also, we JUST put the annual HOLIDAY WEIRDNESS and a bunch of other randomness (including some stuff from the "Evening With Neil Gaiman & Amanda Palmer" tour) up on the Post-War Trade merch site (if you're only looking for the holiday stuff, it's HERE on bandcamp with a bonus audio download of me reading the "yes virginia" letter from the new york sun).

we kept things simple....just a shirt and (as usual) a personalized card from MOI....
but LOOK AT THE SHIRT. yes. the winner is…

 
 
and the HOLIDAY CARD, which i'll personalize for you (or your lover, or your mom, or your great-great-uncle) up to 140 characters, is an AMAZING photo by pixie, featuring ME IN a DRESS MADE OF SPORKS (thanks to psycho girlfriend). it's true. you have not lived until you have worn a dress made of sporks:

 
 
please try and get your orders in quick - by december 4th, is the best - to make sure i have time to sign and personalize and get them shipped off before me and viggie head down to mexico for the show…

__________________________________________________

and now. the art and the nakedness. the sound and the fury, the living and the dead.
 
if you didn't notice the news on twitter or anywhere else....i just did a seriously FUN THING:
i am the recorded voice on the multi-media walk-through guide (the little iPod you can rent to "talk" you through your tour of the exhibit) at the new "Degas and the Nude" exhibit at boston's Museum of Fine Arts.
 
being an indie rock star in your home town has amazing perks. 
but i'd like to think they didn't just invite me because i'm a local indie rock star. they invited me because i'm 2 NAKED 2 QUIT.
or in more highfalutin terms: i am familiar with the subjective and objective processes of committing stark human-form - sans clothing - to canvas or film. 
 
the beautiful serendipity exploded when i informed the folks at the MFA (MFA/AFP trivia moment alert! MFAAAAAFP!!!!) that i used to be a nude model for a living. 
it's true, little known fact about yours truly. when i was in my early-to-mid twenties, nude modeling at art schools and for community art classes was one of the many ways i hustled dough.
some days were hilarious...i'd go from standing in complete stillness (with clothes on) as a living statue in the streets of harvard square, to standing in a similar position several hours later three blocks away at the cambridge center for adult education...this time indoors, this time with no clothes on, and this time with no control over when I could move or not. one job paid me closer to $50 an hour. one paid $12.50. guess which is which.
 
part of the reason it's taken me so long to post this goddam blog is because i wanted to climb under my bed and see if i could dig out the particular shoebox in which i was CERTAIN i had a stack-batch of old nudie photos taken around 2000, during one of the sessions i used to do in dorchester. there's no photographic evidence of any of the stints that i did at the art schools, because photography was considered a total violation of the space...but there was a group of painters that were more social in nature in a loft in dorchester who would pay me $50 for the night to model for about three hours while everybody got stoned, listened to great music, drew, and generally just hung out. this was one of my favorite jobs.
 
i found the pictures....they're taken by  a dude named scott fergusen who always had a camera around, and would take shots of the models (with permission) while the painters painted or sketched. i never minded. though i did NOT like taking my clothes off if it was cold. THAT i did not like. 
 
but i loved modeling...i loved the challenge of finding creative poses and holding them, and i simply loved, loved, loved (is this news?) being naked. 




 
 
different decade, same belly.
 
that belly is just 2 legit 2 quit.
 
same bat-time, same bat-belly.
 
oh no, i feel another shirt coming on. 
 
if you're not shy, and you need quick cash...i recommend figure modeling. you'll get to stand around naked and get paid. not as much dough as stripping, but much more acceptable to mum and dad. maybe, i guess, depends on your family. anyway....for reals, art schools and community art classes are always looking for models. call and ask. get started on this naked revolution. the whole world is watching. occupy canvas.
 
back to the story.
 
the MFA called me in the spring to see if i could do the voice recording over the summer, but i was going to be in edinburgh right around the time they wanted me to record the script. no worries: they just rented a studio and an engineer in scotland and one day - desperate to escape from my life, i might add (it was a dark couple of weeks) - i hopped in a cab and went to a studio called finiflex in leith, where i read beautifully written script by sandy goldberg. i added my own little personal stories, while the MFA folks (who were super nice) listened in, and gave direction and feedback.

 
 
 
i have to say: i was terrified that this would be a dry and boring project....i've never in my life used a multi-media guide, and i've often wondered what the hell they actually contain.
up until now, i've always seen old people using them at museums and assumed that the voice on the other end was reciting a dry list of facts delivered in a monotone voice (and here's the kicker) TELLING ME WHAT TO DO...but there goes my judgmental self, i'd never actually tried one. it turns out to be quite an art form in and of itself, as i discovered, and the quality of the multi-media guide really depends on the quality of the people putting it together...and the reader, of course (hi) and most of all: the script writer. 
 
this script was AWESOME. again, sandy NAILED it.
 

 
 
if you're in boston or the boston area, i highly recommend checking out the show: it's BEAUTIFUL, and the museum is worth a visit in it's own right...
i sort of take it for granted having been there dozens of times as a bostonite. info on the show is HERE. if you're between 7-17, admission is FREE at certain times, and like most museums there's a student discount. 
 
i think a good art exhibit - any art in any setting, really - leaves you desperate to make things....your own things.
this exhibit did that to me when i went.
 
neil & i were honored to be given a private tour of the exhibit by the curator, george t.m. shackelford, a kind southern gentleman who guided us through the rooms of nudes with a passion and pride so effusive and yet so humble, it was as if he'd painted these masterpieces himself...or modeled in them. hehe. he was so incredibly in love with the art; and it showed. this exhibit is his baby - he'd conceptualized it years ago, and has been putting his heart and soul into collecting the pieces together all in one place for ages...and we saw him the week it opened. i should have brought him a cigar.
he was also my audio-mate...the multi-media guide is predominantly my voice edited together with his. i give the drama, he gives the education.
 
.....
 
i've been to hundreds of museums at this point, but i'd never gone through an exhibit and given so much thought to the personnel, the labor, and the artistry behind it.
why did they choose to construct this room this particular way? why put this painting here, and not there? how to lead the eye, the soul, the story from one thing to another?
 
especially in an exhibit like this, which pulls you through an entire LIFETIME of ONE aspect of an artist's work....? incredible.
 
while listening to george wax passionate about the placement of the statues (if you pay attention, they do magical things, like line up with the paintings that relate to them, like the three desert locations in that sacred coin from indiana jones), i got this incredible urge to paint. 
 
that's what good concerts always do to me: make me want to leave, so i can go home and write.
 
that's george on the far left, telling me and neil about the finer details of degas' work....(this one is called "interior"):
 
 
here's the narration from the script that goes along with the painting above:
"...On the bureau to the left in the background, we see the man’s hat. On the floor is the woman’s corset -­‐ and an ominous shadow behind the man, on the door. There’s such a feeling of tension; but Degas doesn’t give us a clear sense of what has happened – or maybe is about to happen? – in this room."
 
like i said, this shit was fun to read.
the exhibit isn't limited to degas...in fact, it's illuminated perfectly with contrasting (and influential) works by contemporaries and heroes of degas.
the exhibit tells you the story of a man throughout a lifetime exploration of the nude human body, with and against the acceptable cultural norms. 
 
here's a great excerpt from the script....in the format i read it from the paper, regarding the painting above (that neil & i are looking at) and a contemporary painting, by gervex:
AMANDA PALMER NARRATION: We can see that the first thing that Degas started figuring out was the lights and darks: the way the light from the window will touch on the body and create shadows in the room. It depicts a private, introspective moment. It’s so different from the painting next to it, with the nude woman splayed across the bed. That one is by a friend of Degas, Henri Gervex.
 
GEORGE SHACKELFORD: [44:36] This painting depicts a scene from a literary work in which Rolla, the hero, the man standing at the window, is driven crazy by the sex goddess that he's taken on as his girlfriend, Marion.
 
AMANDA PALMER NARRATION: In the poem, Rolla has ruined himself financially and emotionally by pursuing Marian, who is a prostitute. As the dawn breaks, he’s contemplating suicide.
 

 
Think back to Degas’ painting called “Interior” that you saw earlier in the exhibition...Degas included a corset on the floor...Looking back to Gervex’s painting, you’ll notice a petticoat, front and center. It’s been tossed aside. Years later, Gervex said that it was Degas who told him to put it there – as well as the corset to the right. He recalled Degas saying, quote “You have to make them understand that ‘your’ woman is not a model! Where’s the dress she’s taken off? Put a corset on the floor!”
 
DAMN STRAIGHT!!!
 
here's another drawing ... called "the serious client". these were sketches/drawings that degas did in (or from memory of being in..heeehee) the brothels...and not the upmarket ones. these were never exhibited...they were made from friends (and lovers?)...and to see them now up on the walls of the MFA feels like a nice coup for the advancement of society.
 

 
and here's the excerpt from the script, i loved reading this one:
"The woman seems to be coaxing the man, in his bowler hat and little mustache. He leans on a thin umbrella – which some see as Degas joking about the size of the shy man’s other, shall we say.... equipment. There’s a sense of caricature to some of the female figures, too. Take your time perusing all the brothel works in this area. There are groupings of women interacting with clients; women preparing for or waiting for clients; and women enjoying each other sexually without clients."
 
 
oh my beloved....looking at the art:

 
here's a video of me & neil getting george's tour through the exhibit...it'll give you abetter sense of the whole space, and also includes some of the sculptural pieces.
i also talk about modeling and the realization that seeing paintings and art IN REAL LIFE is very different from seeing them reproduced in books (or...on the internet):

and lo, i'd thought it would be a lovely idea to get naked and have neil do a drawing while we were there. we brought supplies, care of lee at home.
 
i'd suggested it to our hosts, and they were game: i would be the model, neil would be my pastel renderer.
neil's actually a quite good drawer, i know because i see him draw sometimes. 
i think, like me, he could have been a truly great drawer if he'd wanted to be...he would up being a writer, instead. 
i stopped being a figure model. 
i wound up being a musician. 
but i still take my clothes off constantly. 
it's the way we're built, i think.
neil keeps his on constantly.
 
the folks at the MFA were that wonderful combination of excited and terrified. i doubt many people ask to get naked in the gallery. 
but man, this was great PR, and honestly how awesome is it to have your husband draw a nude pastel of you surrounded by arguable the best nude drawings in the world?
 
the only problem was with the security cameras...they insisted on turning them off in the gallery if i was going to have an art party in my birthday suit.
but they couldn't turn JUST specific cameras off...so they sent in a bunch of staff with ladders to cover the cameras up with coffee cups.
i made lots of jokes about how my friends at museum security, who'd already paid me $50 for the degas strip show i'd promised - were going to be sorely disappointed.
 
security cameras were covered, sigh....
and off we went.
 
STRIP!!!
 
 
 
...to pose...

 
 
...for my beloved....


...who drew...
 
 
...and drew.
 
BAM
 
looking through my old figure drawing photos from when i was 23....
this one caught me:

 
yep. same bat time, same bat pose....ten+ years later.
nice back, palmer.
 
 
 
nice hair, gaiman.
 
here's one of the finished pastels neil did - he only drew for about ten minutes because he had to run away (literally) and do THIS.
 
i love him.
 
 
so neil headed off, leaving me in possession of his drawings.
 
it was unclear what we should do with them, so i just left in in safekeeping with the MFA, who put them in their archive.
now neil can say his artwork is archived in one of the finest museums in the world. hot DAMN. that worked....
 
SO…
go to the exhibit if you're in boston-town.....it's up til february 5th.
 
AND…
if not, just strip down and get your boyfriend/husband/whoever to draw your nekkid body, and tweet me the results.
 
it's a NAKED DRAWING REVOLUTION AND WE'RE IT!!!
 
all hail degas and all the other freaks of the universe who love rendering the body in its neutral milk state!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
 
XXXXX
AFP
 
p.s. speaking of nakedness and drawing...bet you didn't know i'm actually a pretty good drawer. here's a photo of one of my favorite statues at the MFA...it's cleopatra, sculpted by thomas gould:

via flickr
 
i drew this pencil sketch of the same statue, over two days sitting on the floor of the MFA, back in my early twenties, in the days when i had nothing better to do than sit around in museums on free-entry-wednesdays and sketch shit:

Cross-posted to amandapalmer.net