54 new york | august 5–18, 2019
The CULTURE PAGES
Jepsen is stopping in for our painting
class midway through the tour for her
album Dedicated, which dropped in May.
She’s playing the Hammerstein Ballroom
that night—one of two shows she had in
New York—which means we’re sipping
Martinelli’s cider instead of wine, and she
brings along an entourage that includes
her glam squad, and her mother, Alexan-
dra Lanzarotta, a jewelry designer who
has flown in from British Columbia. (Jep-
sen, whose parents are divorced, checked
in with her dad’s side of the family at a
previous tour stop in Boston.) As it hap-
pens, Jepsen’s tour kicked off with a few
shows in European cities, including Bar-
celona, where she went to the local
Picasso museum. The visit made her
think about how the artist was always on
the way to becoming someone else. You
walk into one room and you see him
slowly invent and master a style; you walk
into the next and he’s heading in another
direction entirely. “And it wasn’t good
yet!” Jepsen says. “It was inspiring for cre-
ativity in general.”
If you were to build a Museum of Carly
(and someone almost certainly will one
day), “Call Me Maybe,” the cheeky popsingle that launched her to stardom,
would be in the place of Les Demoiselles
d’Avignon. It’s the song that made her
famous and wrote her checks; the one
that became so unavoidably popular it’ll
probably be used to establish that future
period movies are set in 20 12. Kiss, thealbum that followed “Call Me Maybe,”
failed to connect, but her 2015 ’80s-
throwback album, Emotion, did—which
set fan expectations high for Dedicated,
an ef fervescent yet deep pseudo-breakup
album. Think of that as her blue period,with sparkles.
Jepsen works constantly. She’s writing,
“journal-entry style,” on the road, and she
likes to accumulate as many ideas as she
can before she will edit them down. Or, as
her mother—who sits on the other side of
me and has gray-blonde bangs and a
round face that resembles Jepsen’s and is
frankly the best painter of all of us—
interjects, “bury the whole album in my
backyard and start again.”
Has that happened before? Jepsen
laughs and admits, “I have a lot of mate-
rial.” Emotion got a follow-up EP called
Emotion: Side B, with eight new tracks
that had been cut from the album.
She has said she wrote around 200
songs for Dedicated (and hopes to release
another “Side B” follow-up). When she
was deciding which songs to put on the
album, she gathered her friends for lis-
tening parties and had them vote on
their favorites, then went with her own
choices anyway.
Her songs address the usual subjects
for pop—the joy of falling in love, the
pain of a breakup—but aren’t afraid to
take it to a thrilling, heartbreaking,
Earth- shattering extreme. Which, after
all, is how these things actually feel when
you’re going through them, especially
when you’re a teenager. Dedicated kicks
off with “Julien,” about a guy she dated
with a name she liked, whom she para-
doxically doesn’t have “eternal love feel-
ings for anymore.” Later, there’s “Real
Love,” in which she admits she doesn’t
know a thing about the subject but knows
she wants it anyway. As is so often the
case in her music, the basic things are the
hardest and most glorious. “It started off
as ‘Should it be new love or bad love?,’ ”
Jepsen remembers. “Let’s be honest, it
should be real love. That’s what we really
want here.”
Many of her fans are pretty young
(and, based on my observations, when
they aren’t quite as young, they often are
also queer) and so tend to be extremely
fluent in the language of memes. They’ve
pasted the saxophone blare that kicks off
“Run Away With Me” over numerous
videos, and at concerts they give her
inflatable swords in reference to a viral
Tumblr petition to give her a sword,
which read simply, “I like her and think
she should have one.”
Jepsen thinks of the online enthusi-
asm as “silliness” and also “connection.”
This is what it means to mean something
to people today. She’s particularly fond of
jokes that reference her song “Store,”
which imagines a breakup in which
someone leaves with “I’m just going toA ccording to our kindly painting instructor,
Sabrina, Carly Rae Jepsen has chosen an unusual piece for us to replicate
at our midafternoon BYOB paint-and-sip. We’re at the Painting Lounge
on West 38th Street, hidden away on a second floor and highly air-
conditioned in the midst of a heat wave, listening to the Big Little Lies
soundtrack, which was Sabrina’s choice, and trying to re-create Pablo
Picasso’s 1932 portrait of a woman asleep and dreaming, Le Rêve, which
was Jepsen’s. Sabrina has us working off stencils, so we don’t have to match
the distorted outlines of Picasso’s woman on our own, but it’s still, in its
relative way, ambitious. The Painting Lounge’s other templates tend
toward the less pedigreed and more banal—sailboats and sunsets and city
parks with bare trees—but Jepsen’s choice is arguably telling. She’s a pop
star, yes, but she’ll work a little harder and wander in a direction you might
not expect. Jepsen is surprised that people don’t choose this painting more
often: “Who doesn’t want to pretend they’re Picasso for a second?”“Who doesn’t
want to
pretend they’re
Picasso for
a second?”ADVANCED FORMTRANSMITTED
________ COPY ___ DD ___ AD ___ PD ___ EICAD1619CR_opener_carlyrae_lay [Print]_35549002.indd 54 7/30/19 5:48 PM54 newyork| august5–18, 2019
TheCULTUREPAGES
Jepsenisstoppinginforourpainting
classmidwaythroughthetourforher
albumDedicated,whichdroppedinMay.
She’s playingtheHammersteinBallroom
thatnight—oneoftwoshowsshehadin
NewYork—whichmeanswe’resipping
Martinelli’sciderinsteadofwine,andshe
bringsalonganentourage that includes
herglamsquad,andhermother,Alexan-
draLanzarotta,a jewelrydesignerwho
hasflowninfromBritishColumbia.(Jep-
sen,whoseparentsare divorced,checked
inwithherdad’s sideofthefamilyat a
previoustourstopinBoston.) As it hap-
pens,Jepsen’s tourkickedoff witha few
shows in European cities, including Bar-
celona, where she went to the local
Picasso museum. The visit madeher
think about how the artist was alwayson
the way to becoming someone else.You
walk into one room and you see him
slowly invent and master a style; youwalk
into the next and he’s heading in another
direction entirely. “And it wasn’t good
yet!” Jepsen says. “It was inspiring forcre-
ativity in general.”
If you were to build a Museumof Carly
(and someone almost certainly willone
day), “Call Me Maybe,” the cheekypop
singlethatlaunchedherto stardom,
wouldbeintheplaceofLesDemoiselles
d’Avignon.It’sthesongthat madeher
famousandwroteherchecks;theone
thatbecamesounavoidablypopularit’ll
probablybeusedtoestablishthat future
periodmoviesareset in 20 12.Kiss, thealbumthatfollowed“CallMe Maybe,”
failedtoconnect,buther 2015 ’80s-
throwbackalbum,Emotion,did—which
setfanexpectationshighforDedicated,
anef fervescentyet deeppseudo-breakup
album.Thinkofthat asherblueperiod,with sparkles.
Jepsen works constantly. She’s writing,
“journal-entry style,” on the road, and she
likes to accumulate as many ideas as she
can before she will edit them down. Or, as
her mother—who sits on the other side of
me and has gray-blonde bangs and a
round face that resembles Jepsen’s and is
frankly the best painter of all of us—
interjects, “bury the whole album in my
backyard and start again.”
Has that happened before? Jepsen
laughs and admits, “I have a lot of mate-
rial.” Emotion got a follow-up EP called
Emotion: Side B, with eight new tracks
that had been cut from the album.
She has said she wrote around 200
songs for Dedicated (and hopes to release
another “Side B” follow-up). When she
was deciding which songs to put on the
album, she gathered her friends for lis-
tening parties and had them vote on
their favorites, then went with her own
choices anyway.
Her songs address the usual subjects
for pop—the joy of falling in love, the
pain of a breakup—but aren’t afraid to
take it to a thrilling, heartbreaking,
Earth- shattering extreme. Which, after
all, is how these things actually feel when
you’re going through them, especially
when you’re a teenager. Dedicated kicks
off with “Julien,” about a guy she dated
with a name she liked, whom she para-
doxically doesn’t have “eternal love feel-
ings for anymore.” Later, there’s “Real
Love,” in which she admits she doesn’t
know a thing about the subject but knows
she wants it anyway. As is so often the
case in her music, the basic things are the
hardest and most glorious. “It started off
as ‘Should it be new love or bad love?,’ ”
Jepsen remembers. “Let’s be honest, it
should be real love. That’s what we really
want here.”
Many of her fans are pretty young
(and, based on my observations, when
they aren’t quite as young, they often are
also queer) and so tend to be extremely
fluent in the language of memes. They’ve
pasted the saxophone blare that kicks off
“Run Away With Me” over numerous
videos, and at concerts they give her
inflatable swords in reference to a viral
Tumblr petition to give her a sword,
which read simply, “I like her and think
she should have one.”
Jepsen thinks of the online enthusi-
asm as “silliness” and also “connection.”
This is what it means to mean something
to people today. She’s particularly fond of
jokes that reference her song “Store,”
which imagines a breakup in which
someone leaves with “I’m just going toccording to our kindly painting instructor,
Sabrina, Carly Rae Jepsen has chosen an unusual piece for us to replicate
at our midafternoon BYOB paint-and-sip. We’re at the Painting Lounge
on West 38th Street, hidden away on a second floor and highly air-
conditioned in the midst of a heat wave, listening to the Big Little Lies
soundtrack, which was Sabrina’s choice, and trying to re-create Pablo
Picasso’s 1932 portrait of a woman asleep and dreaming, Le Rêve, which
was Jepsen’s. Sabrina has us working off stencils, so we don’t have to match
the distorted outlines of Picasso’s woman on our own, but it’s still, in its
relative way, ambitious. The Painting Lounge’s other templates tend
toward the less pedigreed and more banal—sailboats and sunsets and city
parks with bare trees—but Jepsen’s choice is arguably telling. She’s a pop
star, yes, but she’ll work a little harder and wander in a direction you might
not expect. Jepsen is surprised that people don’t choose this painting more
often: “Who doesn’t want to pretend they’re Picasso for a second?”“Who doesn’t
want to
pretend they’re
Picasso for
a second?”