birds eye view

Follow ontheten on Twitter

Friday, July 6, 2007

there is life after crystal




recovery happens more often than we know.....and it can be fucking fabulous!

and moving beyond "partying" has it's rewards. one of the most obvious is being able to remember the events of an evening the next morning (after a good night's sleep). i thought i would share a couple of interviews with a guy who has left the meth madness behind and moved into something better in his life, in hopes of reminding anyone in an ambivolent stage that there is light at the end of the withdrawal tunnel. getting clean can lead to a miracle as simple as letting your voice be heard. and getting clean very well may hold just such a miracle for you...

from the www.thewwavemag.com .

High on Living
Drink and drugs behind him, Rufus Wainwright has a healthy appetite for life.
By Tom Lanham

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Stretched out at a table in his hotel restaurant, Rufus Wainwright looks the epitome of casual cabaret cool in his dress jacket, button-down shirt, black stovepipe jeans and white Converse All-Stars. You’re not sure if he’s on site to eat lunch or regale clientele at the piano bar. But the foppish folk-popper – once a near-skeletal crystal-meth abuser who crashed, burned, then rose phoenix-like from the rehab ashes – is not only savoring every last morsel of his chocolate-drizzle cheesecake, but appearing refreshingly gym-trim and healthy.

A few final sips from his latte later, gay icon Wainwright – the son of legendary folkies Loudon Wainwright III and Kate McGarrigle – has plenty to talk about, such as finding what seems to be true love; getting his own Metropolitan Opera commission, a work he’s titled Prima Donna; and issuing a brand-new solo set on Geffen, the Neil Tennant-assisted Release The Stars. He’ll be playing at The Mountain Winery in Saratoga on Aug. 4.

The Wave: You look mahvelous! Just mahvelous – no longer all emaciated, like the last few times I’ve seen you.
Rufus Wainwright: Thank you! That’s because I’ve basically decided to, uh, live. Which wasn’t so much a question for me, but it was a vision, shall we say, that I had of death at one point. It was in between... well, in between men, probably, within the hour. And then I just had this searing vision of death ahead. It didn’t look scary, it wasn’t sad, it was more like an incredible orgasm. And the closer you got to death, the bigger the orgasm was. So it was kinda fun, actually. But I realized that I didn’t wanna do that now, and in the process of that, I kinda figured out how I was gonna plan out the next 10 years of my life, artistically.

TW: Did you actually sit down and draw up a plan?
RW: Kinda, yeah. And whereas my other albums are very effortful and constructed – during which I hopefully learned something and now have some ability – I kinda feel as if this new album is more of the actual performance, the actual set after the rehearsal. And oddly enough, although this record seems really big, it was the easiest record I ever made, and it kinda happened in a flash. I was in Brooklyn recording, and it was the first part of the record, and I had every intention of it being this very toned-down, black-and-white, bare-bones sound. I wanted to sorta get away from the orchestras and the 10-part harmonies, so I got my band together and we jammed on the songs, which gave ’em a good structure. But then I moved to Berlin for the summer because my boyfriend lived there – he lives in New York now – and all of a sudden, instead of getting a cool haircut and hanging out at hipster spots with the East German low crowd, I was hit by this furious wave of German romanticism and classical prowess, and I ended up wearing lederhosen and visiting baroque houses. And yes, I actually wore the little lederhosen. And all my childhood fantasies of this fairy-tale Europe just kinda reared their ugly heads.

TW: What were some of the stranger Teutonic situations in which you found yourself, wearing those little shorts?
RW: Probably one of the funnier moments was when I was hanging out with Eva Wagner, of the Wagner family. She’s in her 50s, and she’s very beautiful and very serious, just a wonderful woman. We were talking about music, and then she turned to me and said, “Your pants are falling off!” So that was pretty odd. And there’s actually a photo of me on the album in my lederhosen next to a fireplace. So it’s all documented…. This record was very influenced by German romanticism. I even went to Weimar, and stayed in a hotel where Hitler stayed, just for sh-ts and giggles.

TW: Do you speak fluent German?
RW: I can’t, no. But interestingly enough, the more time I spend with Germans, and the more time I spend in Germany, the less German I know. It kinda just comes right outta me – that language is a hard one.


TW: But you have to admit, decadence looks cool on an artist. Baudelaire used to dye his hair green and walk his pet lobster on a jewel-encrusted leash.
RW: Yeah, I think that’s true. But I also think that, on the other hand – well, two things. One, not everyone’s Baudelaire. Very few people, in fact, are Baudelaire. The other thing is that the greater challenge is to go through that darkness and actually overcome it and produce something even greater. Which actually, in pop music, is very rare. There’ve been very few people who’ve been able to capitalize on their health. Whereas in classical music, it was pretty much the norm – all the great composers were at their best when they were old. So that, to me, was always a real lifesaver, in terms of this taking-care-of-your-health thing. Because it is important, especially in the music business, to remember that you are a human being and you are susceptible to physical and mental illness, and that touring and singing to thousands of people every night doesn’t make you a god. So that’s my response, but maybe I’ve got a very Protestant kinda work ethic going on. But it is working for me now, especially in view of the fact that I’m about to write this opera for the Met. I’m starting it in French, but it could go either way. But in doing that, I’ve realized that – due to the size of the task and the probability of failure, which is so high – I don’t want this to be some half-assed publicity stunt, a la Paul McCartney. I wanted this to be real, and to do that I basically have to have all of my wits about me, and have every single cell available and in top condition. Once that’s over, I can pretty much go crazy. But until then, I have to have everything in shipshape.

TW: What rituals do you have for writing this opera?
RW: Theoretically, at this point right now, I try to do about an hour a day of work on the opera – and I’ve actually gone through periods where that’s happened, and a lot’s come out. It’s amazing what you can do for an hour a day, if you put your mind to it. That said, I am very much dedicated to this album right now – it’s the order of the day and I have to do everything I can to get it going.

TW: You used to get so angry at the evening news, you’d scream at your TV and write songs accordingly. But this record seems to be focused more inward.
RW: Well, interestingly enough, it’s the opposite. A lot of people have said to me how this is my most personal album, and in a strange way it’s the exact opposite, because on my last album, I was very, very involved with myself and figuring out my own personality, loves and all of that. Whereas on this record, I’m actually addressing other people – it’s more conversational with other subjects, and that, oddly enough, makes it sound more personal, because people can actually hear me saying something. So it’s funny how that works: the more outward you are, the more personal you seem.

TW: You look great, and say you feel great, too. Yet you open the album with a downer called “Do I Disappoint You?”
RW: [Laughs] Yeah, I know! But that song’s a funny one, just ’cause it has absolutely no connection to me whatsoever. It’s about a brutish object of desire that drives everybody crazy, due to their extreme beauty. And they’re just never taken seriously because they’re so physically attractive. So it’s written as a fantasy, kinda like my own little Death in Venice.
---------------------------------------------------

and of course- there's this short interview, and this brand of video. this is an expample of what makes the internet exciting, having its own timbre and flavor in short snipets. rufus on leonard cohen.

No comments:

Related Posts with Thumbnails