Volcanic Tongue presents Matthew Shaw
“We are very excited to announce a rare live in-store performance from
Matthew Shaw on Saturday 16th February. Matthew is one of the most
fascinating figures on the UK drone underground, collaborating with
thinkers like Brian Lavelle (as Fougou) and Andrew Paine (as The Blue
Tree) while releasing music under his own name and the Tex La Homa
pseudonym via a host of labels, including his own Apollolaan Recordings.
His music delves deep in Hidden Reverse traditions, incorporating
specific environmental soundings of occult landscapes into beautiful
drone works that advance the oracular/hallucinogenic English underground
tradition of Coil, Richard Youngs, Andrew Chalk et al. Matthew will be
presenting an exclusive new piece composed especially for Volcanic
The shop will be open 12-8pm on the day, with Matthew in residence
from 4pm, where he will be available for signings, making available rare
and out of print CDs and CD-Rs and selling copies of his newly
published photography collection præ. The music starts at 6pm. See you
Listen to an unreleased track from Matthew Shaw on Volcanic Tongue’s SoundCloud:
The Blue Tree play at a psychiatric magickal happening at The Old Hairdresser’s, Glasgow
The Blue Tree will be performing over a happening mashup of Rosemary’s Baby, oil wheel projection and hypno wheel
Taking place during the Glasgow film festival, “The Apartment
Trilogy” is a creative magical investigation into Roman Polanski’s three
interior studies from Repulsion via Rosemary’s Baby to The Tenant.
Could it be that the first two films in the series inadvertently or
presciently precipitated the murder of Sharon Tate in some kind of
brutal melange of their imagistic narratives.
And was The Tenant Polanski’s admission, unconscious or otherwise of
his role and guilt in the celluloid prophecies of his earlier films.
Taking props and footage from Thurloes Beauty parlour in South
Kensington, London, the actual location of the hairdresser’s in
Repulsion, we will reconstruct an inner cinema of Catherine Deneuve’s
psychotic breakdown at the venue of the Old Hairdresser’s in Glasgow.
A second set of performance by The Blue True will soundtrack key
scenes from Rosemary’s Baby. The event will culminate with a screening
of The Tenant, Polanski’s self starring paranoid masterpiece.
Between 1965 and 1976 Roman Polanski directed three films exploring
the psychosis of interiors – his apartment trilogy beginning with
Repulsion via Rosemary’s Baby and culminating with The Tenant. Repulsion
features Carol, a schizophrenic hairdresser, the traumas of her
childhood unleashed by adult isolation in a hostile city. As her
psychosis deepens she retreats to her apartment, where the walls of her
identity become persecutory agents. With the logic of her devastating
illness rendering the interface between the concrete and the human a
florid nightmare she murders a licentious suitor and her overbearing
In 1968, married to Sharon Tate, Polanski’s composed the ultimate
birth anxiety dream of Rosemary’s Baby. Filmed in the gothic Dakota
Building, where John Lennon was murdered in 1980, Mia Farrow is the
paranoid mother-to-be, convinced that her avuncular neighbours are part
of a Satanic cult. Moreover, she experiences recovered memories of the
conception, a black mass, overseen by none other than Anton LeVay.
In August 1969, the schizophrenic cult leader Charles Manson ordered
his disciples to Cielo Drive in LA. There they butchered the now
pregnant Sharon Tate in a horrific collage of these two films. Did
Polanski somehow through a cinematic prescience foretell his own
tragedy; or more troubling did the films serve as some kind of
accidental occult operation precipitating the blind atavisms of the
demon spheres to seek reification in the concrete world?
Polanski waited until 1976 to release his paranoid confessional, The
Tenant, in which the director himself plays a timid Parisian who takes
the room of a woman who has attempted suicide by throwing herself from
her apartment. As with Rosemary’s Baby and Repulsion, the neighbours
become grotesque persecutors – this time urging the protagonist to act
an of defenestration. The toilet becomes an hieroglyph adorned hypogeum
as Polanski’s cross dresses into the persona of its previous tenant. Was
Polanski’s casting of himself in the final act of the Apartment Trilogy
a recognition of his unconscious culpability in the slaying of his
wife? Who was the previous tenant of the apartment – the ghost of his
butchered wife, or Polanski’s sublimely paranoid muse?