THE HAUNTED GENERATION“Being half asleep on the couch
with German Measles,refusing
to eatmy Heinz Lentil Soup,
withCrown Courton. Covere d
in calamine lotion. Mymum
had this old lady who came
round to look after us, MrsWolf.
She taught us how to make
birdboxes in the cellar. Maybe
Quentin’s obsession with
birdboxes came from her...”
Listening to filmmaker Sean
Reynard’s memories of his
1970schildhood is awonderful
stream-of-consciousness
experience. It’s almost as
woozilyevocative as descending
down theYoutubewormhole he
has created – achannel devoted
to Sean’s alter-ego ‘Quentin
Smirhes’, a terrifyingly
austere spoof 1970s television
presenter with a predilection
for elaborate birdboxes and
antique crumhorns. I first
becameawareof Quentin
in 2016, when I discovere d
Sean’s magnificent pastiche
of thePicture Boxtitles,a
“foundfootage”extension of
the opening sequence to this
disquieting 1970s daytime
TV fixture.As the ‘picture
box’ itself gentlyrotates, the
camera pans toreve al a hidden
handle being crankedby the
unsettlingly hirsute Quentin,
sporting a disconcerting leer
and a truly alarming pair of
black underpants.
“It was all very reminiscent
ofVictorian austerity and
secretrooms, and shadowy
corners,” muses Sean,
recalling the originalPicture
Boxtitles.“A sense ofwarm
claustrophobia, slightly
anæsthetised; and then
[presenter] Alan Rothwell,
with hisrelentless, hoodedeye
contact. I’d always wanted to
film a wider pan of those titles,
and see the whole set-up...”
Since then, Sean has cultivated
a cottage industry of gloriously
strange viral films, all spoofing
the dustiest corners of the
1970sregionalTV archiv e,
where puppetchoirboys
are taught the rudiments of
mediæval instrumentation,
and disembodied fingers poke
fromwooden Heath Robinson
contraptions, accompanied
by the wistful,wobbly strains
of Erik Satie’sGnossienne No.
1.Search fo r the ‘Quentin
Smirhes’channel onYoutube,
or follow Sean on
Twitter, where he’s
@raghard.
Meanwhile,
committed
heliophobes may
find respite from
the unrelenting
summer stickiness
by immersing
themselves inThe
Dark Is Rising,
an imaginedTV
soundtrack to Susan
Cooper’s classicchildrens’
novel.This much-loved tale
of ancient magic loosed
upon a festive, snowbound
Buckinghamshire has cast
its spellover Finland-based
Teessider Rob Colling, aka
Handspan.“I askedmyself...
whatwould themusic
sound like if the BBC hadcommissioned a mini-series
when the bookwas published,
in 1973?” heexplains.“My
answer was that theywould
have given it toPeter Howell
or Roger Limb orPaddy
Kingsland from
the Radiophonic
Workshop... and
it would have
absolutely scared
the pants off
everyone who heard
it.”
The album
is marvellously
redolent of
Kingsland’swork
in particular,
and the perfect
musicalrealisation of a story
steeped in traditionalmyth.
“It brings together all kinds
of Englishfolklore, from
Herne the Hunter to King
Arthur,” muses Rob.“And it
just caused melodies to start
pouring intomy brain.Theyfelt
like theywere 1,000-year-old
folk melodies...” Combiningswimmy, retro synths with early
instrumentation (you have
to admire the dedication of
a man who can teach himself
to play theFinnish kantele),
the album is as crisplykeen as
the sweeping snowdrifts and
slate-grey sky that lend the
book such an air offorbidding,
suffocating stillness.Following
a limited, and quickly sold-
out, release on cassette,The
Dark Is Risingis nowavailable
as a digital download from
handspanmusic.com.
Othermusical gems that
have caughtmy attention
this month: the albumFlora,
by Polypores, is an ambient
but melodicexploration ofa
tangled,fantasticalwoodland,
released on the Castles In
Space label with a cover that
Roger Deanwould be proud of;
andSizewell,by Robin Saville
and Oliver Cherer, builds
beautiful organic soundscapes
from fieldrecordings made
in the environs of Suffolk’s
famousnuclear power stations.
It’s available from the Modern
Aviation label.
Those seeking oddness
in more built-up areas
should investigate the
latest publications from the
Folk Horror Revival stable.
UrbanWyrd, co-editedby FT
contributor AndyPaciorek,
comes in twovolumes (Spirits
of TimeandSpirits of Place)
and collects essays,reviews
and interviews that celebrate- as Adam Scovell puts it
in his introduction – “dark
skulduggery and strangeness
beyond thereasonable confines
of whatwe consider part of
city life”. Further contributors
includeWill Self and Iain
Sinclair, withPaciorek himself
providing hisown share of
quirkiness... hisexploration
of “wyrdTrumpton” tickled
me, as did his ruminations
on the haunted qualities of
motorway service stations.
Both books areavailable from
folkhorrorreviv al.com/tag/
urban-wyrd, with all proceeds
going to theWildlifeTrusts
conservation charity.
BOB FISCHER ROUNDS UP THELATEST NEWS FROM THEPARALLELWORLDS OF POPULAR HAUNTOLOGY...FT383 67