Katherine Reed – författare

In this edited volume, contributors explore an essential element of the influential television series Twin Peaks: the role of music and sound. From its debut in 1990 to its return to television in 2017, Twin Peaks has amassed a cult following, and inspired myriad scholarly studies. This collection considers how the music and sound design not only create the ambience of this ground-breaking series, but function in the narrative, encouraging multiple interpretations. With chapters that consider how music shapes the relationship of audiences and fans to the story, the importance of sound design, and the symbolism embedded in the score, this book provides a range of perspectives for scholars of music and film studies, while giving fans new insight into an iconic television show.

In this edited volume, contributors explore an essential element of the influential television series Twin Peaks: the role of music and sound. From its debut in 1990 to its return to television in 2017, Twin Peaks has amassed a cult following, and inspired myriad scholarly studies. This collection considers how the music and sound design not only create the ambience of this ground-breaking series, but function in the narrative, encouraging multiple interpretations. With chapters that consider how music shapes the relationship of audiences and fans to the story, the importance of sound design, and the symbolism embedded in the score, this book provides a range of perspectives for scholars of music and film studies, while giving fans new insight into an iconic television show.

In this edited volume, contributors explore an essential element of the influential television series Twin Peaks: the role of music and sound. From its debut in 1990 to its return to television in 2017, Twin Peaks has amassed a cult following, and inspired myriad scholarly studies. This collection considers how the music and sound design not only create the ambience of this ground-breaking series, but function in the narrative, encouraging multiple interpretations. With chapters that consider how music shapes the relationship of audiences and fans to the story, the importance of sound design, and the symbolism embedded in the score, this book provides a range of perspectives for scholars of music and film studies, while giving fans new insight into an iconic television show.

In this edited volume, contributors explore an essential element of the influential television series Twin Peaks: the role of music and sound. From its debut in 1990 to its return to television in 2017, Twin Peaks has amassed a cult following, and inspired myriad scholarly studies. This collection considers how the music and sound design not only create the ambience of this ground-breaking series, but function in the narrative, encouraging multiple interpretations. With chapters that consider how music shapes the relationship of audiences and fans to the story, the importance of sound design, and the symbolism embedded in the score, this book provides a range of perspectives for scholars of music and film studies, while giving fans new insight into an iconic television show.

The central image of David Bowie’s “Life on Mars?” could have been ripped from his own experience: a child sits “hooked to the silver screen,” reliving fantastical scenes played out on film. Throughout his life, Bowie was similarly transfixed by the power of film. From his first film role in The Image to his final music video before his death, “Lazarus,” Bowie’s musical output has long been intrinsically linked to images. Analyzing Bowie’s music videos, planned film projects, acting roles, and depictions in film, David Bowie and the Moving Image provides a comprehensive view of Bowie’s work with film and informs our understanding of all areas of his work, from music to fashion to visual art. It enters the debate about Bowie’s artistic legacy by addressing Bowie as musician, actor, and auteur.

The central image of David Bowie's “Life on Mars?” could have been ripped from his own experience: a child sits “hooked to the silver screen,” reliving fantastical scenes played out on film. Throughout his life, Bowie was similarly transfixed by the power of film. From his first film role in The Image to his final music video before his death, “Lazarus,” Bowie's musical output has long been intrinsically linked to images. Analyzing Bowie's music videos, planned film projects, acting roles, and depictions in film, David Bowie and the Moving Image provides a comprehensive view of Bowie's work with film and informs our understanding of all areas of his work, from music to fashion to visual art. It enters the debate about Bowie's artistic legacy by addressing Bowie as musician, actor, and auteur.

The central image of David Bowie's “Life on Mars?” could have been ripped from his own experience: a child sits “hooked to the silver screen,” reliving fantastical scenes played out on film. Throughout his life, Bowie was similarly transfixed by the power of film. From his first film role in The Image to his final music video before his death, “Lazarus,” Bowie's musical output has long been intrinsically linked to images. Analyzing Bowie's music videos, planned film projects, acting roles, and depictions in film, David Bowie and the Moving Image provides a comprehensive view of Bowie's work with film and informs our understanding of all areas of his work, from music to fashion to visual art. It enters the debate about Bowie's artistic legacy by addressing Bowie as musician, actor, and auteur.

The central image of David Bowie’s “Life on Mars?” could have been ripped from his own experience: a child sits “hooked to the silver screen,” reliving fantastical scenes played out on film. Throughout his life, Bowie was similarly transfixed by the power of film. From his first film role in The Image to his final music video before his death, “Lazarus,” Bowie’s musical output has long been intrinsically linked to images. Analyzing Bowie’s music videos, planned film projects, acting roles, and depictions in film, David Bowie and the Moving Image provides a comprehensive view of Bowie’s work with film and informs our understanding of all areas of his work, from music to fashion to visual art. It enters the debate about Bowie’s artistic legacy by addressing Bowie as musician, actor, and auteur.

It’s 1984, and investigative reporter Arthur Stuart is trying to locate Brian Slade, the glam-rock superstar who staged his own death and vanished from the spotlight ten years earlier. Todd Haynes’s Velvet Goldmine (1998) transforms that mystery into a vivid collage of memory, fantasy and desire, creating an alternative history of rock and a landmark of queer cinema.Velvet Goldmine divided opinion on its release, but Katherine Reed traces how the film’s fans have kept it alive through rewatches, relistens and fan fiction. Reed weaves in the history of the film with close readings of its cinematic references, songs and style. She re-evaluates Velvet Goldmine in light of Haynes’s other films, addresses its fraught production history and its allusions to David Bowie, Lou Reed and Iggy Pop, and the ways in which Haynes reshapes those figures into a new mythology.Reed also analyses Velvet Goldmine’s soundtrack, and examines legendary costume designer Sandy Powell’s role in creating blends of fantasy and reality in each character’s wardrobe. Like the film itself, this is not a linear history, but an exploration of how Velvet Goldmine teaches us to create anew.

It's 1984, and investigative reporter Arthur Stuart is trying to locate Brian Slade, the glam-rock superstar who staged his own death and vanished from the spotlight ten years earlier. Todd Haynes's Velvet Goldmine (1998) transforms that mystery into a vivid collage of memory, fantasy and desire, creating an alternative history of rock and a landmark of queer cinema.Velvet Goldmine divided opinion on its release, but Katherine Reed traces how the film's fans have kept it alive through rewatches, relistens and fan fiction. Reed weaves in the history of the film with close readings of its cinematic references, songs and style. She re-evaluates Velvet Goldmine in light of Haynes's other films, addresses its fraught production history and its allusions to David Bowie, Lou Reed and Iggy Pop, and the ways in which Haynes reshapes those figures into a new mythology.Reed also analyses Velvet Goldmine's soundtrack, and examines legendary costume designer Sandy Powell's role in creating blends of fantasy and reality in each character's wardrobe. Like the film itself, this is not a linear history, but an exploration of how Velvet Goldmine teaches us to create anew.

It's 1984, and investigative reporter Arthur Stuart is trying to locate Brian Slade, the glam-rock superstar who staged his own death and vanished from the spotlight ten years earlier. Todd Haynes's Velvet Goldmine (1998) transforms that mystery into a vivid collage of memory, fantasy and desire, creating an alternative history of rock and a landmark of queer cinema.Velvet Goldmine divided opinion on its release, but Katherine Reed traces how the film's fans have kept it alive through rewatches, relistens and fan fiction. Reed weaves in the history of the film with close readings of its cinematic references, songs and style. She re-evaluates Velvet Goldmine in light of Haynes's other films, addresses its fraught production history and its allusions to David Bowie, Lou Reed and Iggy Pop, and the ways in which Haynes reshapes those figures into a new mythology.Reed also analyses Velvet Goldmine's soundtrack, and examines legendary costume designer Sandy Powell's role in creating blends of fantasy and reality in each character's wardrobe. Like the film itself, this is not a linear history, but an exploration of how Velvet Goldmine teaches us to create anew.