Login0
vote
52 Views Share:
52 Views Share:An Examination Of Devil Doll With Mr. Doctor
Person list created by ShadowyKnightOfRain 
Mr. Doctor (AKA Mario Panciera) himself provides a little commentary on the one-of-a-kind musical entity that is Devil Doll, as well as the inspirations behind it (this is basically an interview he did around 2008 with a Japanese magazine, except that it has been dissected into smaller fragments for easier reading). The list features seven different sections: "Artist", "Musical Influences", "Literature", "Films", "Lyrics", "Recordings" and "Life After Devil Doll".
Sort by:
Showing 1-50 of 58
Rating:
List Type:
~ARTIST~
Every musical idiom â Metal, Gothic, Prog-Rock, Classical or whatever â has its charm, as it puts the emphasis on a particular aspect of Music, such as the Energy for Metal, the Atmosphere for Gothic or the Structure for Classical or some Prog-Rock. But what really matters is Music itself, with its enchanting, magical power which transcends senses. A piece of music is remarkable or unremarkable regardless of its idiom: the problem only lies in the sensibility of the listener, who can open his horizons to odd, unheard, demanding sounds, or can remain stuck to the limited idiom of his tribe, to its stereotypes, which are the strict borders of his ignorance. In ancient Hebrew, the word Knowledge and the word Love, where one and the same word â because you can only love, appreciate, understand and be filled by the energy and the vibrations of what you KNOW. With a statement like â Itâs not my TASTE â many hide their inability to transcend the narrow limits of their musical horizons. Exactly what Devil Doll has always fought against.
Devil Doll does not belong to any genre as it is the faithful mirror of what I really am. It is no movie, no fake, no façade, no architecture. It is not done to please anybody or to sell records. I have no time nor interest in posing, and I despise a following of poseurs. All I care about is the amazing daily opportunity to open new doors, walking beyond the limit of my previous limit. If I think and talk and act and create in metres, I want to think and talk and act and create in centimetres, always re-setting my sensibility on the strength of new magnifying lenses. Hence, thereâs no risk of riding a formula, as I am one and the same ever-changing merrily Tormented Man.
~MUSICAL INFLUENCES~
Gustav Holstâs "Planets" (I consider "Mars" the very first Hard Rock piece ever composed)...
Personal influences which thrilled me when I started Devil Doll were Dmitri Shostakovich's "Eighth String Quartet" or "Lady Macbeth Of Mtsensk", Prokofiev's "Aleksander Nevsky", Bela Bartok's "Concerto For Orchestra" and Charles Ives' "Fourth Symphony", whereas Kryszstof Penderecki and Witold Lutoslavski enhanced my interest in the universe of timbre.
A brief but intense spell with some British symphonists of last century â Arthur Bliss, William Alwyn, Arnold Bax, Benjamin Frankel, Humphrey Searle â led me to an in-depth exploration into the world of soundtracks, as these composers had also been responsible for many immortal film scores, most significantly "Odd Man Out" (Alwyn) and "Things To Come" (Bliss).
Apart from Bernard Herrmann, whose entire oeuvre I still find eminently inspiring, I never cared much of most of the famed American film composers, or at least of their widely acclaimed sub-symphonic scores.
Among the Europeans, Ennio Morriconeâs remarkable talent was much more influential for me on little films such as "Who Saw Her Die/Chi Lâha Vista Morire?" (which is bizarrely built on spine-chilling children choirs) than on those over-acclaimed soundtracks plagued by the dull warbles of his female vocalist Edda DellâOrso.
And I cannot forget Nino Rotaâs score for Felliniâs "Casanova", which features a track entitled "Il Duca Di Wurtenberg" that is possibly the most extreme piece of Devil Doll-esque music I have never written.
Rock music has also been a great influence, primarily for its effectiveness: it goes straight to the point like a scalpel in a plastic surgery operation. I adored Teddy And His Patchesâ 60s Psych-Garage single "Suzy Creamcheese", graced by an uncontrolled primal energy which easily compensated for its compositional rawness and technical ineptitude.
At the same time I found abrasively effective the eccentric and only-apparently simple songs written by Arthur Lee for Loveâs third album "Forever Changes"...
Or Peter Hammillâs "In The Tower/The Black Room" (from his "Chameleon In The Shadow Of The Night" album)...
My guiding light is (and always was) the charm and stupefaction I feel in front of a great work of Art, the trembling of my body when filled by the germs of someoneâs inspiration, and the emotion, the challenge of creating, of pulling out of myself the Unknown. Art is the greatest adventure we are allowed to experience in our brief apparition on the stage of life. I have always listened to a wide range of music, but I cannot say I was âdirectlyâ inspired by any artist in particular. In Classical music I always admired Mussorgskyâs unorthodoxy, unpredictability and disrespect of rules...
And a few other Russian composers such as Shostakovich (the second tempo of his "8th String Quartet and Chamber Symphony op.110/110a" electrocuted my imagination at least as much as the beginning of his "5th Symphony" must have remained stuck in Morrisseyâs mind, when he sampled it for 11 minutes on the opening song of his âSouthpaw Grammarâ album)...
Prokofiev (whose exceptional melodic ingeniousness influenced me, but must have pleased Sting too, as he borrowed the theme of Prokofievâs âLieutenant KijĂŠâ for his hit âRussiansâ)...
And Mosolov (whose mid-1920s piece âIron Foundryâ is pure Prog-Rock Ă la Magma, Art Zoyd, Univers Zero).
Early in my Devil Doll days, I was also into Ives (his "4th Symphony", in particular)...
And Eisler (a few of his songs, which I also performed and recorded, and the âGerman Symphonyâ).
Among the Classical conductors, my favourite was Fritz Reiner, whose interpretations of Dvorakâs "Ninth Symphony", Prokofievâs âAleksandr Nevskyâ or Armenian composer Alan Hovhanessâs "Second Symphony Mysterious Mountainâ, are unsurpassable. Concerning Pop and Rock music, there are a few albums spread throughout the last five decades which I find truly terrific, although I often find more inspirational tiny sparkles of genius lost in bad records, than uniformly good albums which are unable to engrave my soul.
~LITERATURE~
Along with Symbolist poets and the Avant-gardes of the 20th century (Surrealism and its precursor Lautreamont, in particular), I was inevitably shaped by European writers such as Franz Kafka...
![Graham Greene [UK]](https://lthumb.lisimg.com/871/26715871.jpg?width=360&sharpen=true)
At the same time, I developed an interest for the literature which dealt with imagination, with the hidden and the supernatural: after reading Lovecraftâs inspirational essay âSupernatural Horror In Literatureâ (1927).
By Edgar Allan Poe (who made me understand from where Baudelaireâs most charming metaphors originated)...
~FILMS~
No other movie has images as stunning as F.W. Murnauâs âFaustâ (1926): lightning, composition, camera work are all flawless. Possibly the greatest film director ever, Murnau would create his artistic masterpiece, âSunriseâ in 1927, before prematurely passing away in 1931, aged 42.
Jean Cocteauâs âOrpheusâ (1950) sports a clever metaphoric concept and is at the same time graced by an intensely poetic dialogue: a rare happy-marriage between Philosophy and Poetry. Besides that, the highlight is Maria Casares (chosen by Cocteau after her unforgettable performance in Robert Bressonâs âLes Dames Du Bois De Boulogneâ, five years earlier), wonderfully portraying âDeathâ.
Jean Cocteau had previously filmed the slower but wonderfully visual âBeauty And The Beastâ (1946), assisted by Renè Clement, whose âForbidden Gamesâ (1952) also deserves a honourable mention.
Angelo Francesco Lavagninoâs funeral march which opens and closes Orson Wellesâ âOthelloâ (1952) is among my favourite pieces of music-with-images, but throughout this amazing film the immensity of Wellesâ talent as a director and as an actor, shines even more brightly than in his deservedly-praised âCitizen Kaneâ.
William Dieterleâs âThe Devil And Daniel Websterâ (a.k.a. âAll That Money Can Buyâ) (1941) offers an oblique reinterpretation of the Faust myth, set in rural America. The filmâs climax is a visually powerful trail decided by the oddest jury you will ever see on this (or any other) world.
A friend of mine keeps saying that my eyes remind her of Richard Attenboroughâs in John Boultingâs âBrighton Rockâ (1947) and although the character he portrays is among the most loathing human beings I can think of, his glaze is so terrific that I am inclined to take the comparison as a compliment. âBrighton Rockââs ace sequence is the finale, a crucial moment in every work of Art, here so ingenious and breathtakingly unexpected. to remain engraved onto the viewerâs brain. Forever.
The most eminently personal, intimate, ineffable of feelings, love is mis-portrayed in most films as a nauseating cocktail of sugar, tears, flesh and unexpected events. Incarnated by a magic performance of actress Celia Johnson, in David Leanâs âBrief Encounterâ (1945) love is finally skeletal, divested of any fake and frighteningly pure.
Thorold Dickinsonâs âQueen Of Spadesâ (1949) has an elegance and a technical virtuosity in a class of its own, enhanced by the eccentric vibrations generously supplied by two majestic actors of the calibre of Dame Edith Evans and Anton Walbrook.
There is no other film I have seen more times than Carol Reedâs âOdd Man Outâ (1947). I adore it so intensely that I would kindly ask to be buried with it, whenever Time will call my name. I had previously found James Mason a competent actor, but hardly a first-rate catalyst of strong emotions, but his performance here is so powerful, passionate and intense, that I was forced to revise my opinion on him. In 1948 Carol Reed would film another recommended film, âThe Fallen Idolâ and in 1949 would complete an extraordinary trilogy with his most famous opus, âThe Third Manâ, but he would never recapture the intensity and the pure artistry displayed on the more imperfect but superior âThe Odd Man Outâ.
âThe Day Of Wrathâ (1943) has been one of the main inspirations behind âDies Iraeâ and its director, Carl T. Dreyer is my favourite filmmaker along with F.W. Murnau. There is only a way to appreciate Dreyer: to empty yourself and let him flow into your veins with his angular, elliptical, cathartic universe made of a different notion of time and of infinite shades of physical and spiritual grey. The x-rayed human portraits of âThe Passion Of Joan Of Arcâ, the nightmarish âVampyrâ and the tormented souls of âOrdetâ are also recommended viewings.
Georges Franjuâs âLes Yeux Sans Visageâ (1959) (debut 1960 red.) is not a masterpiece, but has the most poetic ending I have ever seen, punctuated by Maurice Jarreâs inspired theme music and by a delicate performance by Edith Scob, a young actress whose melancholic eyes defy description. Her alien charm also graces another Franju-directed film, âJudexâ (a 1963 remake of Louis Feuilladeâs 1914 serial of the same name), which is an embarrassingly chaotic disaster of a movie, but includes an incredibly powerful sequence â a masquerade ball with all guests wearing giant bird heads â which MUST be seen to be believed.
Load more items (8 more in this list)
