Art Sex Music

by Cosey Fanni Tutti

  As I rushed around locking up the house and telling Chris to get ready to drive to Nottingham, I got a phone call. It was a surgeon from Nottingham City Hospital, informing me that Nick was being taken straight into theatre. My stomach turned over; my throat almost closed up. ‘Is it peritonitis? How serious is it?’ I asked.

  There was what seemed a long silence, then he said, ‘Just get here as soon as you possibly can.’

  That sounded grim and made me fear for Nick’s life. The traffic was horrendous and it took us nearly four hours. We didn’t talk much – neither of us wanted to voice our fears. I’ve never felt such overwhelming relief than when I saw Nick safely out of theatre, doped up but alive. We hugged and kissed him, then left him with his girlfriend, Laura, and drove back home, saying we’d be back in the morning.

  When we saw Nick the next day it was obvious he’d gone downhill. He was pale, sweating, in pain and didn’t look at all well. I booked into the hospital hotel so I could look after him, with Chris driving back and forth through fog, ice and sleet and keeping everything going back home. I saw the surgeon who’d operated on Nick when he came to do a follow-up examination. He said how pleased he was the operation was successful because it was the worst case of peritonitis he’d seen. The gangrenous appendix had ruptured and they’d had to remove part of Nick’s bowel. Nick had only just made it, mainly because he was young, fit and strong. The surgeon marvelled at Nick’s pain threshold but said ironically that he’d have been better off it were lower as the appendicitis would have been caught sooner.

  A mother’s love is cruelly all-consuming. I felt at times I would die from the heartbreak of being so helpless to end Nick’s pain, my fears for him and fatigue, but I couldn’t show that to Nick. I had to be strong and ooze confidence for his sake. There were nights in the hospital hotel when I thought I would die, my heart was racing and skipping so much.

  Christmas was approaching fast and Nick didn’t want to stay in hospital – he wanted to come home. I wanted him home too but knew he wasn’t really ready to leave hospital. He was discharged. I arranged for a district nurse to attend to Nick’s wound at home, hoping that they still worked over the Christmas period. The journey back home was agonising for Nick and by the time we arrived his wound had opened up. I called the doctor, who sent our assigned nurse, the most wonderful Nurse Dot. As fate would have it, she’d been a surgery theatre nurse and specialised in wound dressing – and had worked at St Joseph’s Hospice in Hackney, opposite Beck Road, at the time I lived there. We got on so well and she was fond of Nick and cared. I saw the surgery wound for the first time – a long cut above his groin that opened into a cavernous hole – as Dot flushed it with sterile water then packed the cavity with special dressing. I tried not to react but I was taken aback. It was an education seeing her work so gently and expertly, administering drugs that didn’t make him throw up and adjusting antibiotics at each stage of the healing process. We were so lucky to have her. I believed two people had saved Nick’s life: the surgeon and Nurse Dot.

  6 April 2007

  There’s a whole load of shit involving Gen that bores even me.

  A change of scene and sunshine can work wonders. I went off on another solo trip to Los Angeles, installing my work at MOCA in the exhibition ‘WACK!: Art and the Feminist Revolution’.

  While I was away, Chris and Sleazy had been talking about whether TG could carry on in light of the problems we were having internally as well as with the 2007 TG live schedule that was in place. There were TG crisis calls with Paul Smith, as he’d received emails from Gen’s manager to say that Gen was not available for the TG schedule we’d all agreed months earlier, that he was only able to do Donaufestival at Krems in Austria, despite the other TG shows at the Tate and the Desertshore recording sessions at the ICA in London having been confirmed.

  We were thrust into another maelstrom of contradictory information, unreasonable demands and unnecessary aggravation from Gen and his manager. Sleazy and Paul repeatedly tried calling him but got no answer. Eventually Sleazy got through and had a long conversation, which Gen insisted was ‘off the record’ – which wasn’t much use. Then Gen’s manager went over Paul’s head and called the Tate saying Gen wasn’t doing the show, contradicting the TG confirmation. Appeals to Gen about addressing the conduct of his manager went unanswered. Then, just as the TG album Part Two was released, Gen sent a long email informing us that we must discuss his availability for TG only with his manager and not with him.

  That email was followed by one he sent to the Tate, allegedly demeaning Sleazy’s film work as ‘not art’. Sleazy swallowed the insults and replied pragmatically that, because Gen was no longer available for the TG shows, we three would honour the agreements and perform them without him. The venues agreed.

  TG was falling apart. We prepared a statement for the website. Time was getting tight and Sleazy was flying to our house in two weeks to start working with me and Chris on the material for the shows. We gave Gen a deadline to confirm before we announced his non-attendance in TG. Gen confirmed he would do Krems. All that crap had largely spoiled any enjoyment we could have had from the release of the first TG full-length studio album in over twenty-five years.

  19 May 2007

  I’ve been in a ‘neutral zone’ while TG has taken place. It’s the only place to be to limit damage from unwanted energies … Suffice to say Gen was as polite as he needed to get his money …

  The two TG shows in Krems had taken months of work by Chris, Sleazy and me, with our sound engineer Charlie jumping on board to facilitate a recording of the ambisonic performances. We’d also co-opted Hildur Guðnadóttir, a brilliant Icelandic cellist, to write a piece for a choir as part of our live Derek Jarman film soundtrack. The choir was to perform alongside TG, with her conducting them. There was a lot to cope with on each gig day, soundchecking a twenty-piece choir as well as TG and ensuring the eight-channel ambisonic PA system worked as we’d imagined it could. Hildur did an amazing job – she and Sleazy had worked closely together and he signalled to her across the stage when to bring the choir in and out as we all played. It was something totally new and left-field for TG, but worked so well.

  In the dressing room afterwards, Gen asked what Paul thought of the show. Paul said he thought it was beautiful. Gen smiled and replied, ‘That’s because I wasn’t playing. I stopped after fifteen minutes and just watched the film. Easy money for me.’ Even though we knew it to be true, Gen voicing his joy at getting money for doing little after all we’d gone through to get him there wasn’t an easy thing for any of us to hear.

  The TG show itself differed slightly from previous TG gigs, in that me and Sleazy did vocals – he on ‘The Old Man Smiled’ and me on ‘Hot on the Heels of Love’. I was getting levels at soundcheck when Gen came over to me to offer me advice on using a microphone … Did he not know I’d been singing live C&C vocals for over twenty-five years? I let it pass.

  20 May 2007

  Well this extended TG period is proving weird … preparations for TG have been horrendously draining but great also in regard to the work we three have created. It’s been wonderful and Sleazy has been an absolute pleasure despite him missing his home so terribly. Gen meanwhile only asks about his hotel and ticket – no word on what we are doing, have done or he is expected to do.

  Sleazy came back to stay with us after Krems. There was a lot to do for the Tate Turbine Hall show as we were playing a live soundtrack to another of Derek Jarman’s films and having Hildur perform with a choir again – plus the Desertshore live recording sessions at the ICA were to happen just a week after the Tate. We’d made site visits to both venues and there was to be new related TG merchandise on sale at both the Tate and the ICA. Sleazy went into ‘merch mode’ once we’d discussed what to do. He sat at his laptop putting together artworks, sourcing items and generally ordering me and Chris about to get quotes from local printers, to upscale images for posters, etc. He was a sight to behold, seemingly inexhaustibl
e once he had his merch hat on. The Tate poster was based on the TG ‘Death Factory’ poster, replacing the original death factory with the Tate Modern building (art factory).

  26 May 2007

  In fact this Tate performance is the nearest to what I had hoped we’d do when we re-grouped.

  The Turbine Hall was ram-packed, with hundreds unable to get in and people stood like zombies from The Living Dead, pressing themselves against the glass entrance doors to feel the sound. We knew that the Turbine Hall would be particularly challenging, with its extended reverb. The sounds we used had to take that into account. As we played and sent the sound out, it returned many seconds later. The room became our reverb unit. We started with a tone that matched and enhanced the constant hum from the old turbine. The sounds resonated throughout the building, travelling up into the vast cathedral-like space and vibrating throughout the upper floors. It was overwhelmingly emotional, with the choir and the physicality of the sounds we used and the massive projected visuals of Derek’s films.

  At the end we came off stage and were immediately taken to the green room – when we noticed Gen wasn’t with us. He’d stayed behind on stage to take a final bow during what we were told was a ten-minute standing ovation.

  The after-show party proved eventful. We had to pack the gear and didn’t get there until 12.30, by which time some of our friends had gone home thinking we weren’t bothering. Andrew was there, waiting and looking ecstatic, and gave us huge hugs. So many happy, congratulatory people. We were pretty tired but sat enjoying some well-deserved downtime. I saw Gen briefly, then he seemed to disappear into the night.

  After about an hour, Paul came over and discreetly told us we had to leave immediately as there’d been an incident with Gen that he didn’t want us to get involved with. Within minutes the security alarms went off, echoing all around the Tate – the next stage would be lockdown. We were quickly taken out of the building to where a taxi had been ordered for us. We’d got out just before they locked the Tate doors and we stood and watched as police cars arrived. It was 3 a.m. when we finally got back to the hotel and Paul filled us in on what had happened.

  The story was that Gen had been dancing around and accidentally knocked a Warhol painting off the wall, damaging one edge of it. Apparently he and his friend were leaving the building, got lost and wandered into a gallery where the Warhol paintings were hung. The CCTV footage didn’t really fit that version of events. Gen was arrested, held for questioning and charged with minor criminal damage, to appear in court that week. Paul looked after him. Jackie thought she and Gen could get some great publicity from it – which would be the worst thing for everyone concerned. The situation had to be handled carefully as any publicity could have an adverse impact all round and also jeopardise the forthcoming ICA event.

  As far as I was concerned, Gen had spoiled what was a tremendous coup for TG. Tate curators Will and Stuart and so many others were overwhelmed with enthusiasm and glory for what we did. Gen had ruined that euphoria and TG’s achievement.

  27 May 2007

  We arrived home at 1.30, Chris went straight in and threw up and retired to bed with a severe migraine. Sleazy and I watched a mundane 1980s Agatha Christie while we had toasted cheese and salad sandwiches then went to bed. Nice quiet evening with the cats.

  We took a few days to rest from the Gen drama at the Tate and to allow Chris’s migraine hangover to clear, then set about the final preparations for the ICA ‘Desertshore Installation’ live recording sessions, which were to be twice a day for three days – 12–2 p.m. and 7–9 p.m. – and take place in the ICA Theatre, with Charlie as sound engineer. We’d had an area sectioned off for Gen to do vocals and had sent him Sleazy and Chris’s rudimentary reference backing tracks to practise singing to before he came. He did really well to get vocals done for every song from Desertshore over the three days. Some of the audience requested I do some vocals too but I could do those at home – the priority was getting Gen’s done.

  Providing Gen with a stage and audience worked far better for getting some recordings from him than a studio setting – which had failed to provide us with much material to work with and cost us a small fortune in the process. Right from the beginning the concept of the album was Sleazy’s – for TG to rework Nico’s songs and use a number of guest vocalists. As Sleazy described to me back in April of 2006, ‘For this I expect to use mostly vocalists other than Gen, by all means including you if you like, but Chris or I should prepare just a few backing tracks with just sufficient information for Gen to sing over as before that we can THEN make those songs into something completely different for the actual record.’

  We all suggested guest vocalists but the music was crucially important too. The ICA setting provided us with the means to jam together and get some recorded instrumentation from Gen, and jamming together was a means to collectively explore ideas for the Nico backings.

  Like the historic Heathen Earth recording, we kept the setting informal, a very relaxed atmosphere instead of the required silence signalled by a red recording light. Unlike Heathen Earth we had Desertshore merchandise, including a poster and T-shirt that were a 2007 reworking of the original ICA ‘Prostitution’ poster – a reference to our last ‘installation’ there in 1976. TG had a large running buffet to one side of the stage, with hot and cold drinks supplied on demand. When we ended the sessions we chatted with the audience and signed posters or albums that they’d brought along. I was sat at the merch table when a young guy asked me to sign his ‘Death Factory’ poster. I glanced at it and said, ‘My signature’s already on it.’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ he said, ‘but that was Gen. He signed your name.’ He looked embarrassed to have to say it.

  I scribbled out what Gen had written and signed my own signature. ‘There. You have the genuine Cosey now.’ He seemed happier.

  We didn’t know at the time but the ICA recording sessions were the last time all four of us would record together. The ICA was the site of the launch of TG and also hosted the last TG working group gathering. The whole three days of sessions were recorded on video but will probably never see the light of day. As a document of the creative process of recording Desertshore, we produced a limited-edition twelve-CD wallet set of the entire three days.

  24 June 2007

  So I’m up in the office while Chris tweaks our cover version of ‘Lucifer Sam’. Sleazy comes back on Thursday to do the ‘TGV’ 5.1 audio and to collect his degree. Then we are free of TG until whenever, seeing as Gen has said he can’t do Frieze and Bologna.

  From the ICA to Nottingham Trent University to see the final degree show. Nick had graduated with a BA Hons in fine art and me and Chris went to see his final work – a sound installation. We had no trouble finding him: we just followed the low bass rumble. He’d taken over a small space and made it into a science laboratory, with his research materials, electrical components and writings scattered on a desk and a whiteboard above it covered in his notes and various schematic diagrams. He’d borrowed an amp and speakers from us, as well as the original TG audio generator and oscilloscope. Dressed in a white laboratory coat with clipboard in hand, he was questioning people as they came into the space, adding their responses to his work. A week later we and half the family attended his degree ceremony. It was such a fantastic emotional moment for us. We were all smiles watching him receive his degree and so proud he’d done it in spite of his surgery and other difficulties he’d faced along the way.

  Nick wasn’t the only one to graduate: Sleazy had been offered an honorary degree for his work with Hipgnosis. He asked us if he should take it. I remembered the incident with Gen’s Tate letter about Sleazy’s film work not being ‘art’ and Skot saying, ‘Gen was always using me to make Sleazy jealous. Sleazy was ashamed of how commercial his art output was, and Gen tortured him about “real artists” (using me to belittle him).’ I think that had an effect on how Sleazy valued his work.

  ‘What? Hell yeah, you should. You’ve been r
ecognised for all your incredible work. So take it!’ I said. He immediately broke out into a giggly wriggle of joy.

  He went to the ceremony and was conferred, and had his official portrait taken as a souvenir. He came back to stay with us for a while longer so he and Chris could finish the TGV surround-sound audio. He’d been away from home for months and could hardly contain his excitement when he set off back to Thailand. He was due back in the UK for TG’s October shows at the London Frieze Art Fair and in Bologna to continue promoting the new album. They’d been timed to coincide with a major TG article in Wire magazine, along with us on the front cover, but Gen decided to do a tour with his own band to promote their new album instead and the TG shows were cancelled. That left the three of us in the lurch and disappointed, but at least we could get on with our own projects and pick up with proposed TG live events in 2008.

  13 September 2007

  There’s always many things running in parallel but I find it invigorating and exciting – new territories and experiences are pure nectar.

  Our studio was once again reverberating with Carter Tutti sounds and I was working on a collaborative project for the Raster-Noton label for release in 2008. The new Carter Tutti album, Feral Vapours of the Silver Ether, was mastered and put into production, and was due to be delivered to our distributor, Cargo UK, and through Sleazy we’d secured a US release with John Deek of Divine Frequency. We were relaunching our CTI mail order system and sorting out promotion in readiness for the release of the album. The reflective mood of the music and songs was heavily influenced by the emotionally charged events that had dominated our lives in the preceding few years. Some tracks were more obviously deeply personal, like ‘Woven Clouds’, which was about us nearly losing Nick. We were so pleased about the positive feedback for the new album. It meant such a lot to us. I could safely say that if, for whatever reason, we didn’t do another Carter Tutti album, we’d be happy that Feral Vapours stood as testament to our work.