Showing posts with label histoire de melody nelson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label histoire de melody nelson. Show all posts

21 Jun 2023

Melody Blue

Photo of Jane Birkin by Tony Frank used for the sleeve of 
Serge Gainsbourg's Histoire de Melody Nelson (1971)
 
 
As long-time readers of Torpedo the Ark will know, whilst, as a nihilist, my default position is always paint it black, I do have a philosophical fascination with a colour much loved by painters and poets and which French fashion designer Christian Dior once described as the only one which can possibly compete with black: Blue [1]
 
This includes the lyrical blue celebrated by Rilke and Trakl; the deep blue invented by Yves Klein; and the blue of the Greater Day that Lawrence writes of. 
 
So, no surprise then, that I should also adore the light blue used as a background colour by the photographer Tony Frank when shooting his iconic image of Jane Birkin for the cover of Serge Gainsbourg's seven-track concept album, Histoire de Melody Nelson (1971) [2].
 
Birkin, who would have been twenty-four at the time - and pregnant with Gainsbourg's child - was playing the part of the red-haired, rosy-cheeked 15-year-old with a penchant for blue jeans, a pair of which Birkin can be seen wearing in the photo, whilst clutching a toy monkey to her bare chest. 
 
It's a good look - albeit a slightly pervy one, with its Lolita-esque overtones. Birkin not only gets away with pretending to be an adolescent, but she has an androgynous thing going on in the photo that adds to her appeal. 
 
By staring directly at the camera - one assumes at Frank's suggestion - Birkin reveals Melody's innocence and vulnerability. But she also challenges the viewer to accept her gaze and question their own position vis-à-vis the question of a middle-aged man desiring (or actually entering into) a sexual relationship with an underage girl [3].            
 
Anyway, whatever one's thoughts on this, the fact is Frank's image of Birkin on the cover of Histoire de Melody Nelson has become as celebrated as the album itself and - according to the photographer at least - some people have even started to describe the background colour as Melody Blue [4].  
 
 
 
 
Notes
 
[1] I have written several posts on the colour blue. See, for example, 'Blue is the Colour ... Notes on Rilke's Blue Delirium' (1 April 2017) and 'Blue is the Colour ... Yves Klein is the Name' (2 April 2017).
 
[2] Serge Gainsbourg's Histoire de Melody Nelson was released on 24 March, 1971 (Philips Records). It tells the tale of an illicit romance which develops between the middle-aged narrator and a sexually innocent 15-year-old called Melody Nelson. The album is considered by many critics and fans to be Gainsbourg's most influential and accomplished work (despite only being 28 minutes in length). To play the second track from the album - 'Ballade de Melody Nelson' - click here
 
[3] Technically, Melody was not underage as the (heterosexual) age of consent in France at this time was fifteen, as established by an ordinance enacted by the French government in 1945. Interestingly, however, an article within this ordinance forbade anal sex and similar relations against nature with any person under the age of twenty-one (an attempt, one assumes, to discriminate against homosexual lovers).   
 
[4] Readers interested in this post will be pleased to know that Tony Frank has assembled photos, contact sheets, behind-the-scenes imagery, and slides from the shoot with Birkin, into a 96-page book entitled Bleu Melody (RVB Books, 2018). In the book, Frank also recounts his memories from the time.
 

20 Mar 2015

Upskirting with Francis Ponge


Photo of Lindsay Lohan, by Terry Richardson 
(Chateau Marmont, Los Angeles, 2012)


It's no great revelation that Frenchmen like to look up the skirts of pretty young girls; France, after all, is the country that gave us The Swing, the cancan, and the story of Melody Nelson being knocked off her bicycle.

Even so, it came as something of a surprise to discover prose poet Francis Ponge comparing the pleasure of viewing a frilly white carnation to that of glimpsing a pair of fine-cut lace knickers worn by a maid who attends to her linens. 

Ponge goes on to add - and here one is uncertain whether he refers to the flowers or the undergarments - that they continually emit the sort of distinct perfume that threatens such pleasure that one is brought to the verge of a violent spasm (such as a sneeze or an orgasm). 

And so we observe how panty-fetishism is a complex phenomenon involving not just the eyes, but also the nose - even if some snobby psychologists like to insist it's not a true paraphilia.