Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Literary Haunts of Yesteryear

MOST mornings, a little self- consciously, I am standing  in a busy Melbourne street, waiting for the bus that is invariably late and grasping, a little uncomfortably, my heavy work books. I am often thinking about England.

I wrote a kind of review of some of the literary haunts I visited when I lived in England a number of years ago. I wrote the review when I got back to Melbourne, when the memories of England haunted me even more strongly than they do now.

Britain is full of literary treasures, not the least being the famous abode of many great novelists and poets. Now is not the best time of the year to motor around the British countryside. Put it off for a few months when the weather picks up and travel to some wonderful places where writers gained immense inspiration from their unique surrounds.



You might begin your journey in the south of England, and visit the National Trust property at Rodmell, Sussex known as Monk’s House. This was the property of Leonard and Virginia Woolf from 1919 until 1941, the time of Woolf’s apparent suicide. The river Ouse runs behind the property, and it was on a stretch of this river that Woolf’s body was found three weeks after she went missing. The centrepiece of the house must be Virginia’s bedroom, a small room with a single bed and a fascinating fireplace painted by her sister, Vanessa Bell, which features a small boat heading towards a lighthouse. This image played a significant part in Woolf’s literary career, an image straight from her 1927 masterpiece To The Lighthouse. Of less interest is Virginia’s study, altered after her suicide, but still containing her desk and writing paper. The garden is another showpiece. It contains a bust of both Leonard and Virginia, and offers some insight into the view Virginia would have had on countless days of writing and contemplation in her garden, including the fateful day in March of 1941 when she wandered toward the river and placed  heavy stones in her pocket.


Travel directly west to another part of England and you come across important literary associations of a very different kind, to Thomas Hardy, who spent most of his life in Dorset, and is chiefly associated with two houses only a few miles apart: Higher Bockhampton near Stinsford, where Hardy was born in a thatched cottage in 1840, and Max Gate, where Hardy moved with his wife Emma, both at the age of forty-five, at the time of The Mayor of Casterbridge. One of the rooms in Higher Bockhampton was the source for Hardy’s earliest writing, culminating in Far From the Madding Crowd, and the invention of Wessex, fostering his marvellous geographic imagination. The house is open to the public and is a treat to walk around, double-bent much of the time with its low white-washed ceilings and seven little rooms and stairs. There is a vivid sense of little being altered, and as a monument to Hardy’s early career it is deeply respectful.



Max Gate holds a different sort of interest. The upstairs section is closed, but the bottom part contains quite a lot of memorabilia, including Hardy’s desk and private book collection, as well as a photocopied scrapbook, all available for perusal. It makes an interesting visit, even with half the house closed off to private owners, and the fact that somebody in their wisdom removed Hardy’s study from Max Gate and put it on display at the county museum in Dorchester. A man who was tending the house when I was there recalled his delight when a big, burly man a number of years ago dropped in and asked a number of fascinating questions. After he left he realised this was Ted Hughes. You might wish to try and locate the famous picture of Hardy standing next to his bicycle, taken from within the grounds of his carefully nurtured garden.


Travelling further into the heart of England, directly west of London, is the border of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire, and more specifically Kelmscott, the little Cotswold town famous for the beautiful, grand home let by William Morris, a man of many talents, including those of artist, writer, craftsman and socialist. Morris resided here in his self-contained manor on the upper Thames from 1871, during the latter part of a richly fertile life. His co-tenants were his wife, the Pre-Raphaelite darling Jane (Burden) Morris, and her lover at the time, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, the famous painter with the equally famous poet sister, Christina. It is an impressive looking home made of stone, although not really a manor, and looks just like Morris’ drawing of it for his posthumously published book News From Nowhere. The house is full of reprints of Morris’ wallpaper and curtains, and every effort has been made to keep the furniture and look of the principal people’s bedrooms. You can see for yourself the wall hangings which gave Rossetti nightmares, and the room in which he painted some lovely pictures of Morris’ wife. Morris cared a great deal about animal life and his natural surroundings, and there is much to be appreciated of the setting of Kelmscott Manor today. Morris’ simple gravestone is an added feature of the town, lying in the garden of the local churchyard. Plenty of Morris purchases on offer, and highly recommended.




Dylan Thomas is another writer who is buried in the town he spent quite a bit of his life in. Laugharne is in the western part of South Wales, and it was here that Thomas found the inspiration to write famous works such as ‘Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night’ and ‘Under Milkwood’. It is also the town that features the modest Brown’s Hotel, another feature of Laugharne that has become heavily associated with the poet. Thomas lived with his wife Caitlin, and their three children, in what has commonly become known as ‘the boat house’, for the last four turbulent years of his life. He had earlier rented a cottage in a different section of the town. The boat house is a fairly small dwelling consisting of three bedrooms and a small living area, with a balcony or verandah running around its side. It is elevated elegantly from the ground, nestled into the side of a sea wall. There is a steep incline running from the top of the cliff, into the Thomas’ garden and their front door below. Thomas and his wife apparently grew to loathe the house and its lack of space. Hence Thomas found salvation in a simple writing shed less than a hundred yards along the cliff path. Here he could work on such things as Under Milkwood without constant interruptions from things around him. The boat house is well worth visiting for the glimpse it offers into the life of a well known poet who would become a lot more famous.


Travelling eastwards again, back into England and towards the centre of the country, the motorway takes you into the Midlands, and the birthplace of a writer who is associated with the place of his birth perhaps even more so than Thomas Hardy. A great admirer of Hardy’s, D H Lawrence spent all of his formative years in Nottingham, before becoming a school teacher in Croydon, near London. The Lawrence family grew up together in Eastwood, nine miles north-west of the centre of Nottingham, changing houses on a number of occasions, each said to be in a slightly superior position. The only one of the four houses Lawrence lived in until the age of 23 that is open to the public is now known as the Birthplace Museum. Inextricably linked with the beginning of Sons and Lovers, the house in Victoria Street contains some examples of original furniture that belonged to the Lawrence family, and anything different that has been added has been done so tastefully and with pleasing consideration to historical accuracy. Inside the modest brick dwelling one finds the original kitchen range, a spacious living-room, bedrooms and a large attic. The front window is oblong in shape and larger than those of similar houses nearby. Lawrence’s mother made the most of this economic advantage by displaying her linen and children’s clothes to passers by. Inside, one thinks of the verbal battles that took place between middle-class mother and miner father, although it should be noted that the family left for a semi-detached house around the corner when Lawrence was only two. Eastwood seems proud these days of its world famous son. The birth place museum has a wide array of Lawrence memorabilia for sale, as well as an audio visual display well worth a look. The attendants are more knowledgeable than in most places of its type. In the main street of Eastwood stands the local library, which houses a vast display of Lawrence-related literature, including a cabinet of first editions. There is also a thin blue painted line circumnavigating the town that visitors can wander along, which encompasses Lawrence’s primary school, the other three houses he lived in, and even the pub that features in Sons and Lovers, where Lawrence was sent by his mother to retrieve his often times drunken father.




There are more reasons to visit Yorkshire other than to visit Haworth, but the Bronte Parsonage is one of the best. It should be remembered when visiting this unique house that the Bronte sisters- and Emily in particular- didn’t have a lot of experience of the world outside of Haworth. The famous moors surrounding Haworth, the surviving character of the town itself, the life of the girls inside the parsonage- these are the elements that shaped the imagination of three unique individuals. Haworth itself, a grim darkly polluted village town of many years ago, has become more prosperous and commercial today as one might expect. The aspects of character that remain are the quaint little shops with original signs, the blackened stone walls of many buildings, the cobbled lanes and main street that descends into the middle of town past the cemetery, and the Black Bull Inn that has passed into folklore as the pub where the girls’ brother, Bramwell, spent many a session drinking. A short drive out of town, and well sign posted, is the crumbling stone foundation known as ‘Top Withens’ which is said to be the inspiration for the Earnshaw home in ‘Wuthering Heights’. Now getting to the Parsonage itself. Unfortunately it has been renovated and made visitor friendly with new wallpaper and heating and furnishings to make the connection with the Bronte family when visiting more difficult. However, besides a couple of extensions, the exterior of the house remains very similar to what it was in the days of busy composing. The setting is eerie and imposing, sombrely overlooking the graveyard (one must remember to what extent death touched this family’s lives). A servant the children were very fond of was buried in this graveyard, but the Bronte children themselves, with the exception of Anne, are buried anonymously in the church overlooking the graveyard. Inside, the children’s study is still a special place, very small but full of associations with the little children composing stories in their tiny booklets and playing with toys fed to them by their father to fire their imagination. Patrick Bronte’s bedroom is in original condition and the living room has been faithfully recreated. One of the show pieces of the house is the green chaise- longue that Emily is said to have died upon in 1848 at the age of thirty. One of the most rewarding aspects of the house is contained within the added on sections, and that is the Bronte memorabilia that has been spectacularly created. In glass cabinets you will find examples of the little books, locks of hair, original letters and manuscripts and drawings, and clothing worn by the family, much of it belonging to Charlotte, who lived the longest. Allow yourself a couple of hours of searching throught the biographical displays, before you venture out again into the crisp Haworth air.

Monday, March 5, 2012

EDWARD BURNE-JONES: 'The Last Pre-Raphaelite'



THE new biography of Edward Burne-Jones was reasonably captivating. The biographer, Fiona MacCarthy, wrote a better book several years ago about Burne-Jones' close friend, William Morris.This is probably because William Morris was a more interesting, perhaps more complex person who delved in many things in his life, including Iceland, poetry, Socialism and the arts. I have no doubt that Burne-Jones was very complex too, yet it doesn't come across as captivating in print. Burne-Jones was a brilliant Victorian artist, in the late Pre-Raphaelite period, well known and eventually knighted for his exquisite paintings, stained glass amidst other creative forms. His personal life was complex in that he seems to have fallen out of love with his wife, Georgina Macdonald, at a fairly early period in their marriage, and spent an inordinate amount of time wooing and writing passionate letters to others, especially women much younger, even 'girls.' Some of the women in Burne-Jones sexual and romantic imagination appeared in his pictures, no doubt much to the chagrin of his wife. One of these was the Greek model, Maria Zambaco, probably an innocent liason which caused him a lot of private pain. There were others that Burne-Jones became very close friends with, like Frances Horner and May Gaskell.

Maria Zambaco

The best bits of the book for me were the references to many beautiful pictures, including one at the National Gallery of Victoria- Portrait of Baronne Madeleine Deslandes- and other more famous pictures like The Golden Stairs, Arthur Asleep at Avalon, King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid, The Wheel of Fortune and The Beguiling of Merlin, which I once saw at the Lady Lever Gallery near Liverpool, UK.



Burne-Jones also had in his association many interesting people, as in the aforementioned William Morris, Rudyard Kipling and family, Oscar Wilde, Henry James, and of course painters like Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Burne-Jones was lucky enough to meet and get to know and travel with his greatest hero, art critic John Ruskin. Burne-Jones was obsessed with Italian life and Italian art, and the great cathedrals of the world in Italy and France. These bits make enjoyable reading.

Unlike Vincent Van Gogh, painting at a similar time in a different European country, Burne-Jones achieved fame and made money in his lifetime. Fair enough, too.

The Wheel of Fortune

The Golden Stairs

Sunday, March 4, 2012

Bits....

I FINALLY saw ‘Hidden’ (French ‘Cache’) the other day. Great French actors- Daniel Auteuil and Juliette Binoche, and great director- Michael Haneke. The film reminded me of 'The White Ribbon' in ways, although it was less grand, less epic in stature. Still, that really good idea that interests the director- it doesn’t really matter who it is committing the crimes, it is the idea of them being committed in the first place, and the reactions to the people that are being violated- these are the most important things- very unlike Hollywood and Agatha Christie, in this regard.



Haneke was commenting on the French psyche, elements of French history, and the way in which exterior events can turn the world of middle class families upside down. Something as simple as a video recording of the front of your house- left on your doorstep and running for two hours- is enough to make you scared, jumpy. When another video recording leads you back to a murky and uncomfortable incident from your childhood, then you really start asking questions, of yourself and in particular your past motives and actions.

David Stratton once said in a review of this film that you should see the film twice. I can understand that, because I missed something crucial at the end, in the film’s closing several minutes. It occurs on the steps of a school just before the end credits close in, and it’s telling, I think.

‘Hidden’ is a great title for the film- there are many layers to the ideas of ‘hidden’, including commentary on the main couple’s marriage. It reminded me of Hitchcock- I think the director owes a great debt to him- even though we don’t get the neatly tied up ending. Daniel Auteuil reminded me a lot of Gabriel Byrne, especially Gabriel Byrne in the role he plays in ‘Jindabyne.’ I could see the ‘Jindabyne’ role in this film- this man would have acted in similar ways.

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OVER the summer we heard a lot of Angus and Julia Stone and their 2010 album, ‘Down The Way.’ It was played in the car constantly. Even S and A really enjoyed parts of it, humming and singing the album’s single and catchiest tune, ‘Big Jet Plane.’ It’s a very commercial album in lots of ways and easy to get to know quickly. There are some strong songs and others are sweet but a bit too sweet- I think the expression is ‘saccharine’, or sentimental. Some people would find a lack of variance in the tone of each song frustrating. Others would say the songs aren’t demanding enough and are easily forgotten. I think there is some truth in this. Julia Stone sometimes inhabits a little teeny-weeny voice which can be annoying. I think Angus Stone is the stronger singer/ writer of the two. There is more variation in his work, it seems more multi-layered. Both seem to have trouble really letting go. None of the songs are belted out- I know it isn’t that sort of record- but sometimes the feeling seems repressed. There is one exception though, in perhaps the album’s strongest song. In the lyric near the end of ‘Draw Your Swords’ he is starting to let go, slightly reminiscent of Paul McCartney on ‘Why Don’t We Do It In The Road’, but at the same time not quite there.

Lyrically the album isn’t terribly much, but the song ‘Santa Monica Dream’ has a nice sense of place:

‘Rob's in the kitchen making pizza

Somewhere down in Battery Park

I'm singing songs about the future

Wondering where you are

I could call you on the telephone

But do I really want to know?

You're making love now to the lady down the road

No I don't, I don't want to know



I'm somewhere, you're somewhere

I'm nowhere, you're nowhere

You're somewhere, you're somewhere

I could go there but I don’t.’


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I WENT to Toorak College to see ‘Fireman Sam.’ It is in Mount Eliza, it is huge, incredibly well resourced and costs in its senior years about $20,000 a year. A nice Year 10 student showed me around the VCE section. They have a huge student canteen and an even bigger staff one opposite, a bit more formal looking. I had such mixed feelings here. I could see what a great school it would be for the students- small class sizes and everyone around you intelligent and so on. But I couldn’t stop thinking about all the ordinary people in ordinary schools and how everyone here is probably the same, except for the student who showed me around who is much poorer and is on a scholarship. I haven’t been able to reconcile my feelings about this place at all.



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I am having awful trouble with my left calf. As a result I am riding a bike a lot more. I quite like it, and it can be tiring, but I don’t feel the way I do when I have finished a long run. And I don’t dare allow Van Morrison to blast through the iPod like I do when I’m running.

Saturday, February 18, 2012

WOLF CREEK- mature horror

WOLF CREEK (2005) seems to me to be a superior ‘horror’ film because it is well written and intelligently directed. Many films of this genre buckle to the predictable formula that sees ‘horror’ surface in the first 5 minutes of the film. Filmmakers want to seduce audiences early and are perhaps too uncertain to make the audience wait. In Wolf Creek, the film is already half over before any real tension has surfaced.

There are many interesting contrasts in the script. It begins in a wonderfully relaxed mood. The beach, at Broome in WA, looks magical, and the unfortunate backpackers in the story seem to relish it. The two lead women, Liz and Kristy, are English, after all. The only Australian and only male of the trio, Ben, seems to be a genuinely lovely guy. It is true that he is hedonistic and far too cocky, but he is young and carefree and having the time of his life. His attitude, it seems, is that he lives in some sort of Paradise, and it is doubtful that anything could ever really go wrong. It turns out that he, and the two English women, are naïve in the extreme. They don’t really know Australia at all- certainly not the outback at least, with its thousands of lonely miles where it is unusual to see cars on the road, let alone people. It is the vastness and the isolation that will end up making them vulnerable, however in the first half of the film they drive closer and closer toward an unhinged and malevolent maniac who takes full advantage of their sweetness and their trust and their naivety.

One wonders if, when making the film, John Jarratt’s evil character placed a dampener on the trio’s sense of fun. It is only a film after all, that is true, but this situation isn’t farfetched. An equally memorable villain, played by Ben Kingsley, in the film ‘Sexy Beast’, created a lot of tension on the set when he was introduced into the film a good half hour after it started. So here are the trio, sitting in their car that ‘coincidentally’ won’t restart, and the seemingly good Samaritan, John Jarratt saunters up in dark with torchlight, ironically announcing ‘You scared the shit out of me!’ After a meal and a night’s sleep and some general fireside hilarity, that’s when the evil starts. The backpackers could not have been more vulnerable. The wonderful, warm vistas of Broome beach have given way to a murky and unsettling place of broken down cars, drums, corrugated iron, guns, rope, and various other junk which makes up the compound of the crazed killer.

One of the cleverest aspects of the script for Wolf Creek is the way in which the audience are given plenty of time to get to know and warm towards the backpackers. Ben sings corny serenades in the car on his guitar. Kristy and Liz kid around often but also sit quietly and have the authentic solemn look of trying to enjoy themselves despite the absence of creature comforts, like fresh clothes, warm showers and sheets and usable mobile phones. One of the most touching scenes in the film is when Ben finds Liz on her own sitting by some rocks, and awkwardly and bashfully kisses her. Afterwards they both laugh like gawky adolescents. It is great to see some moments of real charm in a film of this genre, and besides just one small tense moment that occurs in Emu Creek ten minutes earlier, Wolf Creek is almost half an hour old at this point and it looks for all the world like a rollicking road movie, a tame version of Thelma and Louise. We are enjoying the innocence and playfulness of Ben, Kristy and Liz. When unspeakable horrors occur to them later, we are therefore genuinely moved and shocked.

I’ve come back to Wolf Creek a few times since I saw it the first time at the beginning of January. It continues to grow on more as a mature film. I hear that the famous US film critic, Roger Ebert, walked out on it. We share a love for Mike Leigh and Paul Cox- but not, it seems, for Wolf Creek.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Nights In White Satin in Torquay



I AM all clogged up with work at the moment, after a long break of a mixture of anxiety and relaxation. The clogged up with work part feels a bit claustrophobic and hectic and not very liberating. But during this period of work I want to hold onto the memory of what it was like running full tilt with the lovely crisp wind at dusk along a beach in Torquay, a run I have done many times before. I ran what must have been 4 or 5 kilometres in no time at all, my feet feeling like they were gliding across the firm sand, my heart leaping in exaltation. What really drove my mood though was the music in my ears. I played some soulful tracks from 'What's Going On?' which then cut into The Moody Blues- 'The Story in Your Eyes' and 'Nights in White Satin.' The former felt like a great, great song, although it probably isn't, and the latter felt like a song of genius, which it probably is. On the return trip, tired now, and jogging into the driving wind, my mood was more dogged and mellow, and I played 'Streets of Arklow' from Veedon Fleece. I can't wait to go back later in the year and relive this feeling again.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

jan juc, jan 2012- a sense of wonder

         
 
JAN JUC in the daytime in the summer is the superior beach along this section of the Great Ocean Road. It isn't overly crowded, there are some smooth white dunes, and the water is cool and choppy, and best of all the sand is white and comfortable to lie on. But even better than the day time, Jan Juc is glorious at dusk. I ran down to the beach from our rented house in Torquay. The tide was slowly coming in, but there was still a lot of exposed sand. The sky had the remains of a scarlet colored sun and the water was aqua in patches and a darker blue toward the horizon. The wet stretches of sand were best for walking on and there were few people about-some ambitious fisherman and children throwing a ball to their saturated dog. Even at 8:00 PM there were a few people in the water ducking gently soaring waves. The air was filled with quiet and a peaceful excitement. The whole time I was walking, my breath slowing from my run, I watched the grey line of the horizon, the choppy, aqua colored water, and the cold white foam of the waves, thinking how lucky I am to be living only an hour and a half from a setting that fills you with such a sense of wonder.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Two impressive personal websites

THE BLUE LANTERN

Arts Journalism for the Love of It
Jane Librizzi
My Photo




EVERY now and then you stumble across a very impressive blog or two whilst trawling the internet during  moments in which you experience rare solitude and freedom. Tonight I have been absorbed for a good hour or two by this blog: www.thebluelantern.blogspot.com The writer is Jane Librizzi, a New Yorker, apparently a freelance journalist and a radio broadcaster, who I wouldn't know from a bar of soap- and yet, becoming absorbed in her thought-provoking blog, you can't help but feel you know her a little. She covers a wide range of subjects, mostly Art and Literature, and she does so comprehensively and professionally with acknowledgement of sources and detailed bibliographies. And you learn so much from her blog- or at least I did- because she covers some really interesting and esoteric subjects. At the moment, in 2012, she seems to be absorbed with Belgian art and Belgian photography. Then there is poetry by an Austrian, Ingeborg Bachmann, a fascinating study of the construction of stairs under the lovely heading 'Evanescence', a discussion of a Paul Signac painting under the equally beguiling heading, 'Luminance', and the professional relationship between Duncan Phillips (patron) and Augustus Vincent Tack (painter). Now I have only gone back in my discussion here to December 3, 2011, and Librizzi has been blogging since September 2005. So she has an incredible wealth of interesting blog entries over a number of years. She also includes a library of books read under a link at the bottom of her page called 'Library Thing.' Here once again I was introduced to the names of many writers and their books totally new to me.



THE other web address that has captured my attention of late has www.artgarfunkel.com Again, a fascinating wealth of information, and great insight into the lesser known of the Simon and Garfunkel coupling.

Art Garfunkel

I have heard quite a lot of Art Garfunkel's solo career, and grew up listening to the 'Breakaway' album with its beautiful, dreamy rendition of 'I Only Have Eyes For You', and the even better 'Watermark' album filled with excellent Jimmy Webb tunes, like 'Mr Shuck 'n' Jive', one of my favourite songs. There is a lyric in Jimmy Webb's 'Wooden Planes' that seems made up and fanciful and dream-like:



Propeller's spinning in the
West Texas wind,
We ran behind
You know we laughed, we thought
our little flight would never end


You were my brother and I,
I knew you were my friend
I wish we
were chasing after wooden
airplanes....once again.

I love the nostagic feel, and it's a lovely song, and to my delight I read an interview with Jimmy Webb in which he talks about how his family did live in West Texas, and furthermore, his father used to buy he and his brother wooden planes to fly in the wind....

                   

 On the Garfunkel website, under the tab 'News', we get just that, with information about recent Art Garfunkel happenings, mentioning of new articles, the poem he read to Paul Simon at the latter's 70th birthday, etc, etc. Under 'the G' for Guest, we get biographical details, an introduction to Art Garfunkel's massive Euro wanderings on foot (including maps of his personal voyages), his acting credits, and most interestingly for me, his favourite 60 songs of all time, from Chuck Berry and Johnny Cash at the lower end, to The Rolling Stones and The Beatles at the top end. Many great songs, and somewhat modestly, 'Bridge Over Troubled Water' at No.4- yet I couldn't help but be disappointed he couldn't find room for anything by Joni Mitchell or Van Morrison. The tab 'Concerts' offers the reader insights into past performances and then there is 'Writings' (his own verse and prose) and 'Music', a detailed account of every Art Garfunkel performance on CD or vinyl. He has a 'books read over the years' section under the tab 'Library' which incredibly details every book he has read from 1968 until the present day. A very well read person evidently, and his favourites include 'Wuthering Heights' and 'War and Peace.'  The 'body of work' covers the solo period of 1973-2007, and interestingly, he has ranked his own material from 1-134 in terms of quality of  vocal performance and overall quality of the song.' I must say, I agree with most of his top ten. I must say, there seems to be quite a lot of navel gazing in this comprehensive website- what other artists rank their own songs and their own vocal performances so assiduously? Yet, it would offer his many fans quite a lot of enjoyment, and I only wish some of my other favourite artists did the same. I for one love lists, and it seems that Art Garfunkel does too.


So we can glean from his website, that Art Garfunkel adores not only music, but travel and literature as well. Perhaps this is (subconsciously or otherwise) him saying 'look at me, I'm not just someone who happens to have a great voice and be a good singer of Paul Simon classics, but I am an interesting and intelligent person in my own right.'



Top Songs by Art Garfunkel


60. Chuck Berry Rock & Roll Music


59. Johnny Cash I Walk the Line


58. Aretha Franklin Respect


57. Jimi Hendrix Foxey Lady


56. The Allman Brothers Band Ramblin Man


55. The Righteous Brothers You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin'


54. The McCoys Hang on Sloopy


53. Frankie Lymon and the Teenagers Why Do Fools Fall in Love


52. The Everly Brothers All I Have to Do Is Dream


51. 10cc I'm Not in Love


50. Jackson Browne Running On Empty


49. The Beatles Let It Be


48. The Beach Boys I Get Around


47. Jimmy Cliff The Harder They Come


46. Little Richard Good Golly, Miss Molly


45. The Police Every Breath You Take


44. Al Green Let's Stay Together


43. Roberta Flack Killing Me Softly With His Song


42. Ricky Nelson Travellin' Man


41. Foreigner I Wanna Know What Love Is


40. James Taylor You've Got a Friend


39. The Supremes Where Did Our Love Go


38. Prince Little Red Corvette


37. Bruce Hornsby The Way It Is


36. Dire Straits Money For Nothing


35. Marvin Gaye What's Goin' On


34. Carpenters Close to You


33. Bob Dylan Blowin' in the Wind


32. Bobby Freeman Do You Want to Dance


31. Fleetwood Mac Rhiannon


30. Sam Cooke You Send Me


29. The Beach Boys Help Me Rhonda


28. The Big Bopper Chantilly Lace


27. Linda Ronstadt & J.D. Souther Prisoner in Disguise


26. Barbra Streisand The Way We Were


25. Percy Sledge When a Man Loves a Woman


24. The Beatles Get Back


23. The Drifters Save the Last Dance for Me


22. Glen Campbell By the Time I Get to Phoenix


21. Bob Dylan Like a Rolling Stone


20. The Everly Brothers Let It Be Me


19. Fats Domino I'm Walkin'


18. Simon and Garfunkel The Sound of Silence


17. Buddy Holly/The Crickets Peggy Sue


16. The Doors Light My Fire


15. Elvis Presley All Shook Up


14. The Penguins Earth Angel


13. Ray Charles What'd I Say


12. Chuck Berry Johnny B. Goode


11. Jerry Lee Lewis Whole Lot of Shakin' Going On


10. Little Richard Tutti-Fruitti


09. Elvis Presley Don't Be Cruel


08. The Everly Brothers Bye Bye Love


07. The Beatles Yesterday


06. Frankie Ford Sea Cruise


05. The Beach Boys Good Vibrations


04. Simon and Garfunkel Bridge Over Troubled Water


03. Ike & Tina Turner River Deep, Mountain High


02. The Rolling Stones Satisfaction


01. The Beatles Here, There, and Everywhere


© 2011 ARTGARFUNKEL.COM