berlin period

ostrichmode-deactivated20160415  asked:

could you analyse Lana Del Rey more as a performance artist(if you have time, of course)? how much input do you think Lizzie Grant had in creating the persona and do you think the real and the fake got blended? To what extent do you think it is intended as a critique of the perverse stereotypes of women that sell in the entertainment industry? I just like your insight on pop culture :)

Luv this question…. 

I think Lana Del Rey is wholly Lizzy Grant’s creation, at least in concept, though she works with stylists, producers, and writers who have helped her craft that image to perfection. I think Lana Del Rey is to Lizzy Grant what David Bowie is to David Jones.

She has said that she bases a lot of her work on literature, and that some of her songs are based on daydreams or extended fantasies of her. I think she’s someone who has created a body of work that you can completely immerse yourself in, and each album has its own “feel”, which is why her aesthetic changes from album to album.

In the Born to Die era, she was exploring the trope of the schoolgirl-cum-temptress, desperately pining for her lover and offering up sexual gratification in exchange for emotional affection. She borrowed her look mostly from Priscilla Presley and other ‘60s sirens for this album, acknowledging that this trope is mostly based in outdated and sexist roles for women..

in the Paradise era, her lyrics became more sexually explicit (in particular “Cola” and her style reflected this. It was much more ‘90s and grungey, like the “riot grrrls” of that time, even though her music sounded nothing like the riot grrls. 

Ultraviolence is a much more masculine sound with a more masculine aesthetic, based on Bowie’s Berlin period and Lou Reed’s album “Berlin”. It’s very dark and dirgy.

I think that her intent is definitely to explore tropes of female roles in society and how women are subjugated due to their sex. I think she’s very funny and observant and she does it quite well, but at the same time it’s not always clear to everyone that she isn’t necessarily endorsing her lyrical content and that she’s playing a character. She has lots of young fans who take her lyrics to heart, which I find troubling. And she has done a lot of cultural appropriation (her stage name, using a Native war bonnet in the “Ride” video) in the name of art, which honestly is offensive and unnecessary IMO.

She is…. put simply….. my problematic fave.

Carmilla in queer history though
  • Carmilla in 1697 knowing she’ll get married eventually- more as an abstract concept than a concrete future event -but having no interest in men whatsoever. Nobody questions this, or her “deep friendships” with girls, because what they’re doing in bed at night isn’t sex. Sex requires a man. She believes this, and never wonders why that abstract concept of marriage vaguely repulses her.
  • Carmilla continuing to think along those lines until 1850, when she hears about the idea of “sexual inverts” at a psychology lecture in Berlin. A period of introspection follows. She loves women. She doesn’t love men. She envies men’s ability to wear trousers in public, but also likes the way delicate garnet necklaces resemble shining blood against her pale throat. Mother strokes her hair (she never minded having long hair; weren’t inverts supposed to?) and tells her their kind were above petty human categorization.
  • But she also whispers, sometimes, Who else would accept you for what you are? Who in the world but me? Carmilla sees the asylums, knows what happens to women inside, and believes her.
  • Carmilla meeting Ell and realizing none of it matters, that a list of warning signs she may or may not display has nothing to do with love. She steals a footman’s best trousers one night and wears them with her own shirtwaist and favorite cameo pin. Ell laughs and kisses her, hard. 
  • Take those off before my father sees you.
  • Carmilla finding pink-triangle bodies in mass graves. Carmilla at Stonewall. Carmilla seeing the magnitude of cruelty humans visit upon each other for something as simple as a kiss or a skirt. Carmilla fighting back blood-bile in her throat and tears of anger in her eyes. Carmilla shouting with protesters until her voice is weak and hoarse.
  • Yes, Mother, it does matter. Of course it matters. No, they won’t be around in a hundred years and I will, but it still matters. She can’t express why in words. It just does.
  • By 2014, it’s the one thing she’s certain of. And she wears leather pants and delicate, gauzy shirts; plays bass guitar and sprawls inelegantly on her bed and does her eyeliner with the care of a master artist. This new century allows unprecedented freedom vis a vis gender presentation, even as it still has so far to go. But none of that really matters when a “study buddy” looks at her with lust-dark eyes and tells her to please, please keep going.
  • Carmilla never wonders who wears the pants in her relationship with Laura. Sometimes one, sometimes both, sometimes neither. After three centuries, she’s learned it’s not important.