HATE MAIL AND LOVE LETTERS

Tracy Hodson: I found your review of Kate Bush’s 50 Words for Snow to be very strange, indeed, not because you don’t like it—I love it, myself, for all its oddities and differences from her earlier work—but I’d never quarrel with you or anyone else simply for disliking something I find interesting and worthy. But your criticism itself included all sorts of oddities, most notably the personal attack on Stephen Fry. You seemed to be under the impression that he muscled his way into Kate’s studio, presented her with a list of words for snow, and then, I don’t know, held Bertie hostage unless she put him “center stage for no good reason”? She’s stated clearly in interviews that the 50 words are hers, not his, and that she invited her long-time friend to read them because she loves his speaking voice and felt it would communicate a professorial authority. And what does his life on Twitter, or how many followers he has, have to do with anything? Your personal annoyance with him for unspecified reasons appears to have really got in the way of your review, and your indulgence in this attack undermined the rest of it.

Speaking of which, I am always confused when critics call artists “self-indulgent,” as though the making of art isn’t, by definition, self-indulgent. We who are artists make art because we can’t help it, and are usually chasing down our muses in a very specific way that has little to do with anyone else. But the charge of “self-indulgent” is too often brought out when “pop” artists don’t make music that is easily accessible, or familiar, or has satisfied a particular critic or fan. The other charge leveled is when the opposite has occurred and the artist is now deemed to have “sold out” (authors also get these two adjectives attached to their work—really any artist whose public is a paying one, rather than a gallery or museum one, faces this problem). One has to wonder who, if not herself, she was meant to “indulge”? It’s not as though she’s had a career of pandering to the public and has suddenly taken a mad left turn—not one song she’s ever written was pitched to the public’s taste. Who, there in the middle of punk rock, could have predicted Wuthering Heights would be heard, let alone a chart-topper? And how many fans did she lose with The Dreaming? I don’t think she cares much about what any of us thinks, and I love that about her.

Quietus.com has compared this album to Eno and Michael Nyman, and in a way it does make me think of Bowie’s Low and other side-tracks taken by such artists as David Byrne (the Bush of Ghosts album). I think it’s an interesting meditation on Winter, snow, and is aurally quite beautiful. I, too, could do without Elton John, though I’m getting used to his overly muscular singing. And Aerial is gorgeous, in my opinion, and after the immersion in the natural world she “indulged in” there, this new step doesn’t really surprise me. I liked a couple of tracks on Director’s Cut and didn’t buy the album, but quickly discovered that I was one of a few who weren’t angry and frustrated with her for having made it (and talk about being called “self-indulgent”—if she’d been paid for every time that word appeared in print or online, she wouldn’t have needed royalties from the album itself).

I am enjoying 50 Words and find it a relief that a woman my age is making music that is mature, thoughtful, unusual, and who isn’t trying to pretend that she’s still 25. She’s the anti-Madonna, and I’m grateful for that.

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Dick Tuinder: Thank you very much for being tempted to watch Winterland and write such an empathic review of its contents.

It's normally hard for critics to look behind the images they already have in their head. But you, sir, are clearly not one of those critics.

So thank you. You have brightened up at least a part of a certain day.

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David McGillivray: Thank you for inviting me to like it. I'm not sure I want to like it while it's so sexist. Your galleries/contents contain only glamour girls, scream queens and female strippers and adult movie stars. Where are the cult heroes, male porn gods and trash movie makers? Please look into this. Lots of love, McG

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Ian Brock: Call me old fashioned, but... I'd be interested to hear on what level(s) you consider the opportunity to view uncensored "allegorical" simulated baby rape onscreen beneficial to contemporary film making in any way whatsoever?
I realise it gives saddo lock-in bloggers something to write about for a few weeks but, ultimately, the only influence such subject matter is ever likely to exert is degrading & negative - for film maker & viewer alike. I'd have been impressed if, for once, you'd stuck your neck out & said you thought it was a bad mov(i)e, or that you at least had serious doubts about it's intentions. But, of course, you haven't...
Check out Youtube out to see what sort of socially retarded idiots are lapping the uncensored version of A Serbian Film up (though only by watching certain "key" scenes on repeat, of course).

Gavin Whitaker: Mike Raven was also ‘guest host’ on an episode of a very naff 70s TV pop show called 2Gs and the Pop People and was even persuaded to perform a version of The Monster Mash on the show. A clip from this has been known to pop up on Youtube from time to time, while the whole show occasionally surfaces as a DVD bootleg on E-bay, its arguably more entertaining than the feature films Raven did.

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Gavin Whitaker: it would be great if Halfway Inn, the short film Harrison Marks made with the Collinsons was included as an extra on the upcoming US DVD of Twins of Evil or even the upcoming UK DVD of Come Back Peter. As Halfway Inn was only ever released on 8mm, and has never been licensed for a VHS or DVD release, it probably hasn’t been seen by that many people over the years.