davdavon
Don't ask
Published last weekend in Time Out Tel Aviv. Like the Ashkenazi piece, this is more of a memoir than an interview. Translated by me. Notes in square brackets added by me. This is long.
THIS CHARMING MAN
Gal Uchovsky
The door opens. Into the suite in the luxury hotel Mandarin Oriental Hyde Park come Morrissey and his manager, Sarah. The suite is styled in an old English fashion, heavily decorated with wood and velvet. It has a bedroom, a shower, and a large lounge where the official meeting is supposed to take place. Morrissey and Sarah enter just as Lior Ashkenazi and I are leaving the bathroom together. It's more innocent than what you have in mind. We had a few minutes to be arranged, so I took him there to show him the prestigious Jo Malone shampoo that is placed on the marble near the sink for the visitor's pleasure. We both washed hands with this shampoo and now our freshness can be smelled from afar.
Morrissey smiles at us. That is, at Lior. He politely tells him "thank you for coming" and shakes his hand. He looks at him like a fan meeting a beloved film actor. Then he shake my hand and says "we corresponded by email, right?". "Ahh yes, yes, sure", I proudly answer, smiling shyly, trying to conceal the height of my excitement. We're stuck with him in a narrow corridor for a long moment, where it is unclear who will be the first to step forward. Lior comes to his senses and leads the four of us into the lounge.
For how many years have I waited for this moment. How many times have I imagined our first meeting. And no, it wasn't planned to be crowded, in a badly decorated entrance to a hotel suite, while I'm standing at the bathroom doorway.
I've already seen him before, though it wasn't much of a meeting. It was during the end of 1984. The Smiths were the new, revered band with the gay vocalist who wrote gloomy love songs for men. I came to London and I suddenly saw that they're performing in the Brixton Academy. I went there before evening fell, to buy a ticket from a tout. When he came on the stage in a light linen shirt and sang those amazing songs, I knew that he would be the man of my life. He had everything that I dreamt of. He looked like an interesting man, a little tormented. His voice amazed me, and these songs with the unique lyrics made it clear to me beyond any doubt that this man's soul is the soul that I must get to know deeply. That it will be thickly bound with my own soul.
A year later, during my next visit in London, I found the address of his record company, Rough Trade, and I walked there in order to ask that they might arrange me an interview with him. The reception clerk was very courteous, explained to me that he hardly gives interviews, and reminded me that requests for me had already arrived from the record company in Israel, and that it had been made clear to them that Morrissey is busy.
It seems that my craving stare touched her heart. "Perhaps you could write him a note", she suggested, "it sometimes helps", and I immediately scribbled a couple of sentences in my ugly handwriting, finishing with "please, please, please let me get what I want", my favorite line from one of the most beautiful songs he ever wrote. I think that the clerk peeked at the note and was a little touched by it, because before she sent me away she gave me all the singles that the band released up to then on 7" vinyl records, and also posters printed to promote each single.
Naturally, I guard and keep them to this very day, and two years ago, in a moment of great pride, I made sure that they will be used to decorate Ha'Ozen ha'Shlishith store [a famous record store in Tel Aviv] when it appeared in our film The Bubble, a film that is, among others, dedicated to him. Generally, I have quite a large collection at home of Morrissey items. Every CD that he ever put out, in every possible version, books, DVDs. After 25 years of a successful career, these shelves have become quite huge.
Bigmouth Strikes Again
I don't remember when it was exactly that I realised that we're not going to ever be a couple. I think that it happened when I began to understand something about suitability between people. At the beginning, I thought that it would be just perfect between us. I'm an optimistic, noisy person, usually in a good and friendly mood, while he's bitter, reclusive and misanthropic. Together we'll complete each other and form a new, cool entity.
Later, I figured that he tends to fall in love, or at least to get excited about, the enigmatic kinds of men, characters such as Rusty James as played by Matt Dillon in Rumble Fish. Old-style men with tattoos, who mince words, who don't belong to the mainstream. He will certainly not choose to share his life with a fast-talking journalist.
I had no choice, I matured, and I made room in my heart for real loves, with flesh and blood persons, who live around me and with whom I can also cuddle at the end of the day. Still, the deal with him was left unsettled. Meeting him became one of those things that you write in your metaphorical notebook under the title "Things that I must do at least once during my life".
Three years ago, contact was suddenly made. Morrissey was asked on his fan site "what is your favorite film that you saw recently", and he answered that he saw an amazing Israeli film named Late Wedding and fell in love with the excellent lead actor Lior Ashkenazi, and then he added "since then I saw another Israeli film starring him, Walk On Water, and it's also a good film". In one day I received at least ten emails directing me to the site. I wasn't lazy and I emailed the site's editor, presented myself and asked to deliver him a message.
A couple of days later, an email arrived from an AOL address, laconically saying "From Morrissey. Hello, is this Gal?". The truth is that I responded by screaming. Morrissey? In my mail? I literally screamed aloud.
I decided not to appear too enthusiastic and responded: "Yes, it's me. Is that really you? Because my heart just missed a beat," and Morrissey responded "No, it's not me. It's someone else". A couple of more mails followed, we somehow got to chat about the Eurovision, he told me that his all-times favorite song is an obscure song named Pomme, Pomme, Pomme, with which Monique Melsen represented Luxembourg in the year 1971 and reached the 13th place. I advised him to buy the DVD released by the European Broadcasting Union to celebrate 50 years for the contest, and he laconically answered: "do you think that I haven't got it already?"
This correspondence took place exactly during the period when his last record, Ringleader of the Tormentors, was released, and the best-known fact about it is that it was written in Rome, where Morrissey lived for two years. Coinciding with the album's release, a huge interview with him was published in one of the English journals, where the reporter excitedly told that after the interview Morrissey gave him his private email address, and even answered when the editorial board sent him questions for proofreading.
A week after the interview was published I discovered that the address that I have is no longer valid. All the random attempts that I made in the following months to send mails have failed. And now, towards his arrival in Israel, we nevertheless meet. Morrissey explained to the concert production that the only thing that he's willing to do as part of the concert's public relations is to give an interview to Lior Ashkenazi, that is, meet him. He agreed that I would join as well.
Gal Uchovsky
The door opens. Into the suite in the luxury hotel Mandarin Oriental Hyde Park come Morrissey and his manager, Sarah. The suite is styled in an old English fashion, heavily decorated with wood and velvet. It has a bedroom, a shower, and a large lounge where the official meeting is supposed to take place. Morrissey and Sarah enter just as Lior Ashkenazi and I are leaving the bathroom together. It's more innocent than what you have in mind. We had a few minutes to be arranged, so I took him there to show him the prestigious Jo Malone shampoo that is placed on the marble near the sink for the visitor's pleasure. We both washed hands with this shampoo and now our freshness can be smelled from afar.
Morrissey smiles at us. That is, at Lior. He politely tells him "thank you for coming" and shakes his hand. He looks at him like a fan meeting a beloved film actor. Then he shake my hand and says "we corresponded by email, right?". "Ahh yes, yes, sure", I proudly answer, smiling shyly, trying to conceal the height of my excitement. We're stuck with him in a narrow corridor for a long moment, where it is unclear who will be the first to step forward. Lior comes to his senses and leads the four of us into the lounge.
For how many years have I waited for this moment. How many times have I imagined our first meeting. And no, it wasn't planned to be crowded, in a badly decorated entrance to a hotel suite, while I'm standing at the bathroom doorway.
I've already seen him before, though it wasn't much of a meeting. It was during the end of 1984. The Smiths were the new, revered band with the gay vocalist who wrote gloomy love songs for men. I came to London and I suddenly saw that they're performing in the Brixton Academy. I went there before evening fell, to buy a ticket from a tout. When he came on the stage in a light linen shirt and sang those amazing songs, I knew that he would be the man of my life. He had everything that I dreamt of. He looked like an interesting man, a little tormented. His voice amazed me, and these songs with the unique lyrics made it clear to me beyond any doubt that this man's soul is the soul that I must get to know deeply. That it will be thickly bound with my own soul.
A year later, during my next visit in London, I found the address of his record company, Rough Trade, and I walked there in order to ask that they might arrange me an interview with him. The reception clerk was very courteous, explained to me that he hardly gives interviews, and reminded me that requests for me had already arrived from the record company in Israel, and that it had been made clear to them that Morrissey is busy.
It seems that my craving stare touched her heart. "Perhaps you could write him a note", she suggested, "it sometimes helps", and I immediately scribbled a couple of sentences in my ugly handwriting, finishing with "please, please, please let me get what I want", my favorite line from one of the most beautiful songs he ever wrote. I think that the clerk peeked at the note and was a little touched by it, because before she sent me away she gave me all the singles that the band released up to then on 7" vinyl records, and also posters printed to promote each single.
Naturally, I guard and keep them to this very day, and two years ago, in a moment of great pride, I made sure that they will be used to decorate Ha'Ozen ha'Shlishith store [a famous record store in Tel Aviv] when it appeared in our film The Bubble, a film that is, among others, dedicated to him. Generally, I have quite a large collection at home of Morrissey items. Every CD that he ever put out, in every possible version, books, DVDs. After 25 years of a successful career, these shelves have become quite huge.
Bigmouth Strikes Again
I don't remember when it was exactly that I realised that we're not going to ever be a couple. I think that it happened when I began to understand something about suitability between people. At the beginning, I thought that it would be just perfect between us. I'm an optimistic, noisy person, usually in a good and friendly mood, while he's bitter, reclusive and misanthropic. Together we'll complete each other and form a new, cool entity.
Later, I figured that he tends to fall in love, or at least to get excited about, the enigmatic kinds of men, characters such as Rusty James as played by Matt Dillon in Rumble Fish. Old-style men with tattoos, who mince words, who don't belong to the mainstream. He will certainly not choose to share his life with a fast-talking journalist.
I had no choice, I matured, and I made room in my heart for real loves, with flesh and blood persons, who live around me and with whom I can also cuddle at the end of the day. Still, the deal with him was left unsettled. Meeting him became one of those things that you write in your metaphorical notebook under the title "Things that I must do at least once during my life".
Three years ago, contact was suddenly made. Morrissey was asked on his fan site "what is your favorite film that you saw recently", and he answered that he saw an amazing Israeli film named Late Wedding and fell in love with the excellent lead actor Lior Ashkenazi, and then he added "since then I saw another Israeli film starring him, Walk On Water, and it's also a good film". In one day I received at least ten emails directing me to the site. I wasn't lazy and I emailed the site's editor, presented myself and asked to deliver him a message.
A couple of days later, an email arrived from an AOL address, laconically saying "From Morrissey. Hello, is this Gal?". The truth is that I responded by screaming. Morrissey? In my mail? I literally screamed aloud.
I decided not to appear too enthusiastic and responded: "Yes, it's me. Is that really you? Because my heart just missed a beat," and Morrissey responded "No, it's not me. It's someone else". A couple of more mails followed, we somehow got to chat about the Eurovision, he told me that his all-times favorite song is an obscure song named Pomme, Pomme, Pomme, with which Monique Melsen represented Luxembourg in the year 1971 and reached the 13th place. I advised him to buy the DVD released by the European Broadcasting Union to celebrate 50 years for the contest, and he laconically answered: "do you think that I haven't got it already?"
This correspondence took place exactly during the period when his last record, Ringleader of the Tormentors, was released, and the best-known fact about it is that it was written in Rome, where Morrissey lived for two years. Coinciding with the album's release, a huge interview with him was published in one of the English journals, where the reporter excitedly told that after the interview Morrissey gave him his private email address, and even answered when the editorial board sent him questions for proofreading.
A week after the interview was published I discovered that the address that I have is no longer valid. All the random attempts that I made in the following months to send mails have failed. And now, towards his arrival in Israel, we nevertheless meet. Morrissey explained to the concert production that the only thing that he's willing to do as part of the concert's public relations is to give an interview to Lior Ashkenazi, that is, meet him. He agreed that I would join as well.
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