Indiana Bones & The Catacombs

Paul Koudounaris is a man who is sometimes referred to as "Indiana Bones." That's magnificent on it's own, but there is a reason! He has become famous for unearthing ancient relics and taking gorgeous photographs of them. His speciality seems to be ossuaries and earthly remains associated with the church. There are a couple of big beautiful books out that collect this stuff and you should buy them. The photos above are I believe primarily of Catholic saints discovered in catacomb vaults. These guys are around 400 years old and still killing it. 

Here is Paul's Wiki page for more info.

Something else to consider: Indiana Bones & The Catacombs is a delicious sounding band name. Say it aloud, won't you?

HOOF BOOTS

  

Get em while they're hot, ladies.

The many frightful faces of Attila Csihar

 

Hungarian Attila Csihar has been the front madman for a number of extreme musickal acts over the years, from Tormentor to Mayhem to SUNN O))) to Void Ov Voices. Over time his costuming has become the stuff of legend, changing and augmenting as unpredictably and as jarringly as his demented voice. Often even fans themselves are bewildered and affronted by these disguises. There are plenty of stories of angry fans pissed off that Attila would dare perform Mayhem's live vocals while wearing an Easter Bunny outfit. Usually though people don't know what the hell he is wearing. He creates all of these himself, employing a number of different methods and materials and generally ending up with confusing and other worldly results. It's the confusion of these costumes that I like the most.

Bjork's Vespertine

Vespertine is an important record for me and one that I associate specifically with Winter. I listen to it at least once around this time of year, every year and last night happened to be the time, this time. I decided today to post some visual companions to this gorgeous musickal vision. I am a fan of Bjork in general but this... this is something special.

The topmost video is a complete live performance from the Vespertine-era tour captured at the Royal Opera House. All the rest comprise a sequential documentary about the album itself. 

El Cant de la Sibil-La

Bette Burgoyne  recently introduced me to El Cant de la Sibil-La and boy am I glad she did!

"The Song of the Sibyl" is an apocalyptic gregorian chant, a vast and sad liturgical drama. It has apparently been performed on Christmas Eve almost uninterruptedly since Medieval times in certain Majorca, Alghero and Catalan Churches.

It is a musical end time prophecy.

There have been numerous versions of this music throughout time. It began as a poem before taking on Gregorian melody and moving through several lingual interpretations. I hardly have the knowledge to enumerate all of these progressions here as they baffle me with their complexity. At one point it was even put down by the Council of Trent as much too dangerous and unpleasant in it's connotations. But this powerful force simply could not be quelled and it showed up on the island of Majorca not long afterward and has been traditionally embraced ever since, more or less.

The song is conceptually supposed to be sung by a woman (a "Sybil" is a prophetess) but has more often than not throughout history been sung by a little boy. This was originally due to the fact that women were ludicrously disallowed from singing in Church for a great many years.

These days it is still performed by boys often, though the female voice has taken it's rightful place at the melodic helm on a few special recordings. Particularly, it seems, on the copy that Bette sent me- put together by Jordi Savall and Montserrat Figueras in 1988. (one cover image pictured above) I believe this recording contains all the presently known versions. 

I didn't put it together until later that one of my favorite singers Lisa Gerrard took a stab at a section of the work as well on the Dead Can Dance album Aion.

During live performance in  Church, the entire song cycle is to be sung while holding an erect sword. Upon completion, the sword is used to slash a cross into the very air itself.

About these performances I can only wonder, but the music on the above recording is profoundly sad. There is a very strange crossroad in the heart where sadness and beauty either reconcile or conspire. This music sounds exceptionally old. It sounds like the completion of an echo that has been gradually ringing toward my ear drums for hundreds and hundreds of years now.

ON THE DAY OF JUDGEMENT, HE WILL BE SPARED WHO HAS DONE SERVICE.

A very Merry Christmas from Secret Lexicon.