Dennis Hopper 1936 - 2010

After having read Alexander Walker's review of "Blue Velvet" for "The Evening Standard" in 1986 I was compelled to go and see David Lynch's praised surreal film about the underside of an American small town. It was not just Walker's reference to Lynch's obsession with the Bobby Vinton song of the same name but the description of the villain, Frank Booth, played by Dennis Hopper that persuaded me I had to see this distilled acting performances that was getting all the rave reviews. I had actually stopped going to the cinema having found it jaded and grotty. I saw Blue Velvet at a Hampstead theatre in London on a late Saturday night and literally fell in love with Frank Booth and the whole Lynch franchise.

I knew of Hopper from other films principally his directorial debut "Easy Rider" but after seeing this movie I sought out all his movies. From "Rebel without a cause" through to the tedious "Sons of Katie Elder" and onto the sublimity that is "Out of the Blue" I found that Hopper had led an interesting life making movies. The drugs and drinks of the late sixties had helped him to
fuse for himself an idealized vision of the film industry that culminated in the brilliant and allusive "The Last Movie" - an exercise in true art-house experimentation that just gets better with every viewing. After that movie the studios decided they could not take chances with the maverick director whose behaviour was described as erratic and dangerous. After memorable appearances in Wim Wenders' "The American Friend" and Coppola's "Apocalypse Now" he completed directing the extraordinary and disturbing "Out of the Blue".

Although acclaimed for his role as the alcoholic father in "Rumblefish" Hopper struggled with his drink/drug problems and checked into a rehabilitation clinic in a final effort to save his sanity. With his role as Frank Booth he reestablished himself as both an actor and an artist and had a further twenty years in the industry albeit not always in top quality material. But his own "Colours" and his scene stealing terrorist in "Speed" remain highlights of celluloid. Both a passionate and ironic man Hopper will be remembered for several roles but for me, sitting in that cinema one April night, as Kyle MacLachlan sends a love letter into Frank's brains and as the curtains drew it is blue velvet that I still see through my tears...

CoverStory - the decline in aesthetics

The art of the paperback novel is fundamental to how one approaches a book and whether the look and set-up appeals to ones own sense of interest. The history of the novel cover is as complex as the actual history of the printing and publication of any novel. Post-war readership increased the demand for a greater yield in "pulp" fiction and so the cover art suffered from an
awful deterioration in the form. Out of this however there emerged in the late 1960's to the mid 1970's a series of covers that became so commonplace to be seen in certain bookshops that the cover actually became synonymous with the text of the book. A prime example is Joseph Heller's "Catch 22" - published 1961 - which with the Corgi edition attracts the contact of the eyes with the mind and the term catch 22. This book always used to assault one upon entry to any bookshop. The combination of gold and red background with black bordering controls the visual senses to focus on the "22" - the book is sold not with an image but with the number. The "catch" is in that and the presentation. It is truly one of the best marketing ploys ever in the history of book selling. Since then (and I am talking about UK editions here) there have been a number of books that have acquired such an iconic status.

Another notable example is David Pelham's exceptional design for Anthony Burgess' "A Clockwork Orange" - published 1962 - from the 1972 Penguin edition. This bold and imaginative abstraction on the droog Alex conjures up the Kubrick film and the imagery is definitely from there, but Pelham has full command of his art. The green shirt banded by the light blue braces is settled by a mid-3rd yellow backdrop, which itself is exemplified by the block orange. The humanoid face is intensified by the cog-toothed wheel eye motif which does not dehumanise the

character but actually strengthens the depth of its appeal. This is all completed and both deepened and projected by the jet black bowler. Recent Penguin covers (2000/2008) by Véronique Rolland of photographed glasses of the spiked milk have their own appeal, but for personal reasons I find them rather shallow and rather derivative of the plot, for it seems to imply something about the behaviour of the droogs by linking their anarchy with the drugged drink with "knives in it". The Pelham typically stands the test of time because the Kubrick film nails the visual sensation of the book and those who know of both are forced to adapt to this projection of the cover.

"One flew over the cuckoo's nest" - published 1962 - by Ken Kesey is a good example of a book that has become associated to the extent of being homogeneous with the film adaption. The simplicity of the Picador format from the 1970's is in its deliberate selling of Jack Nicholson as the central character McMurphy. Nicholson's Oscar winning performance is next to impossible to remove from the imagination if you read the book after viewing the movie. I fortunately read the book first but the wry-tired-cheeky visage of Nicholson creeps into the cortex so as to become McMurphy in the mental reading of the text. This process is helped by the orange backing. On a side note the Picador edition is not the usual paperback size. Editions of the present are bland and uninspiring, and still they use Nicholson's depiction to help sell the copy. It is really a clever cover because it tricks you by guile into believing you are being allowed in on McMurphy's private war against the system - and he knows you know.

Since the mid 1980's there has been a sharp decline in the cover art as a means to enjoy the book in itself. This is a result of market forces but also a risible attitude on behalf of critics and those who claim to speak for the masses. The common retort is that the cover is not that important but what is between the pages. This is true but it does seem a shame that culture has suffered because of a rather old and jaded view about art. There are fewer noticeable iconic covers these days. If the books sells, the cover becomes familiar to most book readers but that is because of over proliferation and not the art depicted on the surface. The examples beneath are prime examples of this and I am not suggesting they are awful in themselves but that they are deliberately constructed to a market that is vacant of originality.

Stephanie Meyer's "Twilight" is indeed a brilliant marketing strategy. The hands holding the 'forbidden' fruit are evocative and set against the black background a genuine eye-catcher, and I admit that the market is about produce and the making of money, but this is not art even if it is iconic. The tease is directed to the audience - a teenage angst ridden depressed one - and the redness of the apple is a psychological ploy on the undeveloped subconscious and it works but this only helps to demonstrate the downturn in the market. If the cover is just to sell and it is about the text why is "Twilight" so often condemned by critics and readers alike. It has its value as a piece of entertainment - but it is no "Dracula".

"The Da Vinci Code" by Dan Brown is another popular book one will find on book Internet sites. The image is familiar because it is borrowed from the Mona Lisa but there is great tactlessness in the overall structure. It is a potboiler and though it still sells the image is not stationary and quickly removes itself from the memory as the content, not the text mind you, of Brown's book becomes more important than the enjoyment. It is in a similar place as Erich von Däniken's "Chariots of the gods". A flash in the pan that is remembered for the flash - but the pan remains.

The third inclusion is Chucjk Palahniuk's "Haunted". This is how a lot of trendy post-modern books are being detailed. There is a contrived feel to the whole process, and though the Palahniuk may have value as a read, the art is no longer unintentional but enforced. It is as if you are expected to like the volatile approach of this new line. The decline in the love of beautiful things started a while back and death and decay begin to reign supreme. Many will question "so what if the covers are rubbish?" but you see, if the covers have not and do not acquire that cultural significance then we will find that we are expected to enjoy the lesser worth because of it's marketability and not because of its meaning.

Kiswah - Veiling the Ka'bah

When the caliph Muhammad ibn Mansur al-Mahdi performed the Hajj in 160 AH he was informed about the build up of the previously place kiswahs upon the Ka'bah. From then it was decided to replace the kiswah once a year. The covering of the Ka'bah precedes the message brought by the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, and is thought to have initiated with the son of Abraham, Ishmael, peace be upon them. It was originally clothed in various coverings and during the time of the Prophet at the conquest of Mecca it was decided to leave it as it was but an accident burnt it and it was then clothed in white linen from Yemen. Since then the colour of the kiswah has altered from green to the present black. Around 1340 CE the kiswah began to be embroidered and the present appearance with the intricate gold-weave is what has been the underlying condition of the covering. The cost of the kiswah is estimated at SR 17 million and contains at least 670 kilos of pure silk and 15 kilos of gold thread. In looking up the history of the Ka'bah I was surprised that there was no suggestions as to why the Ka'bah was closed so I started to muse on the subject. This has ranged from the obscure to the curious and indeed whether the expenditure of the present kiswah is a waste of money.

The tradition or custom of clothing the Ka'bah is in itself a strange thing. Modern man can only ever really conceive of painting a building and the idea that a specially constructed "cloak" be made to cover a building causes the mindset of the modern man to freeze in consternation. One automatically thinks it is for the purposes of adoration and ornamentation but this cannot be true. If one goes back and looks at the history of the kiswah it becomes apparent that the cloth was nothing more than a dressing and the decorative scriptural references now adorning the kiswah are an addition but not an essential one. In Islam "innovation" is considered a major sin except if the increase of the "deen" is manifestly enhanced by the obvious good in a new thing. One example of this, and perhaps the best, is the collecting of the Qu'ran to ensure its inseparability over the passage of time. The complex needlework on the kiswah gives praise and glory to Allah, glorify His name and how can one think ill of such beauty.

Aesthetically the present kiswah is pleasing to the eye and one of the most familiar images in history - but only from the perspective of the last 150 years or so, since the invention of photography. Previous to that the record of the the Ka'bah was minimal and was subject to the interpretation of pilgrims and their observations. We conceive of the Ka'bah as we are now familiar with it but ponder this - if the present guardians of the Ka'bah took it upon themselves to revert to how the Ka'bah was dressed during the life of the Prophet, peace be upon him, would such an action incur any unnecessary consequences? Could the site of a white enshrouded Ka'bah cause consternation amongst those who pray 5 times a day in the direction they are commanded to?

The Ka'bah used to be covered on the 10th of Muharram but this gradually shifted to the end of the Hajj, on the 10th. Above you can see the plain bricked structure that is at the physical centre of Muslim devotions. As Muslims we know the Ka'bah is the House of God and was instituted by Him to help us worship Him. When Abraham, peace be upon him, was ordered to erect the house he did so knowing how sacred such an action was. It was here that the direction of prayer to the One God was confirmed. The sacredness of the site does not take away the fact that we, as Muslims, do not pray to the House of God, in truth that is only the direction we are commanded to pray to and to submit to. In this way all Muslims, from any point on the earth turns towards the Ka'bah to fulfil his duty to the Most High. It is a focal point of attention.

The movement of the desert peoples meant that stabilised residences were not high on the agenda and the adapted practise of hauling tents and ones home around with them also meant that any place reserved for worship had to have some significant grounding in either folk or mythic memory. Over the Arabian peninsula you can chart a course between places of veneration, usually to all forms of idolatrous practises but the Ka'bah was the first place where the worship of Allah was centralised into an important fixed point. The building of a structure is actually a physicality of man's obedience to the Will of God and so any worship towards the Ka'bah is never centred on the building but upon the command of He who ordered its raising.

The problems arise with man's intractable sense of the need to believe in something they can see. The removal of the Ka'bah would not affect any true believer for they know that Allah is above all and belief in Him does not require objectification. In other religions the need to have a focus is none the less diminished, be it Christianity or Judaism, and traditionally the direction of worship had been Jerusalem. During the Diaspora worshipping Jews focused their prayers towards the destroyed city of their disgraced nation. In this way they were looking towards a future and the advent, promised them, of the Messiah. Christians use to pray in the same direction but their focus since the middle ages has been more inclined to the self, though the statues and ornament of both Eastern and Western churches show the need for the mind to be able to have something physical to fix on. It use to be that one could pray inside the Ka'bah, hence inside the dressed House of God. We know that when we wash for prayer we are removing that which despoils us and inside the Ka'bah, at the heart of our deen, we find ourselves with nothing to focus on except what is in our souls. That is why the issue of the kiswah is incidental but important in understanding its necessity.

My contention is about whether the Ka'bah truly needs such an elaborate cloth. As depicted by the picture above the barrenness of the structure can be seen to be both deprecating to the serenity of the mind and the aesthetics of the soul but as said a true believer has no need of such things. So is it a case of window dressing? Should the House of God not be regaled by His worshippers in the best manner they see fit? It is no coincidence that the main constituents of the kiswah presently are silk and gold, resources forbidden to Muslims to wear, the idea being that such finery belongs to the residents of al-Jannah, and those who take them now will not enjoy them later, for man falls in love with that which he craves.

In dressing the House with two of the most valuable produces known to man is the Muslim actually directing his love towards that which is clothed in these objects which are 'haram'. Is the kiswah, with its calligraphic pronouncements weaved in gold and silk, hiding that which dwells in the heart of every Muslim? Indeed because of the Muslim's love for His Lord does it not mean that there is a need to lavish on their love the best of things?

The cost of the kiswah spirals with each year and a return to the austerity of the original clothing would save money but is that the point? We known we do not worship the Ka'bah, and the sight of it in newspapers or books should make not one jot of difference if it was clothed as it is now or in plain white Yemeni linen. Personally I go along with the ummah in this matter. When the kiswah is removed and a period of undress, during hajj, begins, the Ka'bah is then re-veiled and the year old kiswah is cut into pieces and handed out to pilgrims. May Allah have mercy on us.