sirens
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“She said we must avoid the voices of the otherworldy Sirens; steer past their flowering meadow. And she says that I alone should hear their singing. Bind me, to keep me upright at the mast, wound round with rope. If I beseech you and command to set me free, you must increase my bonds and chain even tighter.”
“I’d done it before (and doubtless I’ll do it again, sooner or later)
woke up with a head on the pillow beside me
– whose? –
what did it matter?
Good-looking, of course, dark hair, rather matted;
the reddish beard several shades lighter;
with very deep lines around the eyes,
from pain, I’d guess, maybe laughter;
and a beautiful crimson mouth that obviously knew
how to flatter…
which I kissed…
Colder than pewter.
Strange. What was his name? Peter?
Simon? Andrew? John? I knew I’d feel better
for tea, dry toast, no butter,
so rang for the maid.
And, indeed, her innocent clatter
of cups and plates,
her clearing of clutter,
her regional patter,
were just what I needed –
hungover and wrecked as I was from a night on the batter.
Never again!
I needed to clean up my act,
get fitter,
cut out the booze and the fags and the sex.
Yes. And as for the latter,
it was time to turf out the blighter,
the beater or biter,
who’d come like a lamb to the slaughter
to Salome’s bed.
In the mirror, I saw my eyes glitter.
I flung back the sticky red sheets,
and there, like I said – and ain’t life a bitch –
was his head on a platter.”
Photographs · These images are from Nan Goldin’s 2019 exhibition Sirens at Marian Goodman Gallery, London. The show included multiple bodies of work, including Sirens, composed of found footage capturing the seductive euphoria of drugs, and Memory Lost, which portrays the other side of that coin—the labyrinthine, isolating, and destructive nature of addiction.
Music · This Mortal Coil’s Song to the Siren is a haunting cover of Tim Buckley’s original. Featured as a backdrop in several of Nan Goldin’s slideshows—including Sirens—and in our featured film Lost Highway, the track explores the sometimes disorienting and drowning feeling that can accompany desire and rejection.
Film · David Lynch’s Lost Highway, depicted in stills here, is one of his darkest, densest, and most incomprehensible films. Unfolding over two parts with a single siren, the film provides a layered and intricate look at desire, envy, and denial, exploring—with a healthy dose of surrealism—the possible extremes of a post-murder psychogenic fugue state.
Paintings · These selected paintings are by Peggy Reavey, who was married to Lynch in the 1970s and significantly influenced his early work. Her paintings—which bear a distinct Lynchian quality—feature themes of identity, duality, shame, and desire. It is believed that three of her works make a foreshadowing appearance in Lost Highway.
Words I · From Homer’s Odyssey, translated by Emily Wilson, the first woman to translate this work. The Sirens have become a potent symbol of the intoxicating, inescapable allure of the femme fatale, seducing their victims with promises of ecstasy only to leave them for dead. Wilson, however, offers an alternative reading, portraying the Sirens as encompassing all the knowledge and pain of the world, leaving those who hear them obliterated in mind and spirit.
Words II · Carol Ann Duffy’s modernist retelling of the biblical tale of Salome—a siren of sorts. The psychedelic 1972 film adaptation of Salome, featuring Donyale Luna (the world’s first major Black supermodel, who tragically died of a heroin overdose at 33), profoundly inspired Nan Goldin, and clips of it were featured in Sirens.