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“Time is a dictator, as we all know it,” Nina Simone (February 21, 1933–April 21, 2003) noticed in her soulful 1969 meditation on time. “The place does it go? What does it do? Most of all, is it alive?”
If time is the substance we’re manufactured from, as Borges so memorably wrote the 12 months the teenage Eunice Waymon started finding out to develop into “the world’s first nice black classical pianist” earlier than she made herself into Nina Simone, then there’s something singularly haunting and mysterious in regards to the fragments of substance we depart behind after time unmakes us. Their ghostly materiality is perhaps our solely actual type of time journey, our solely undeluded type of immortality — the last word proof that point is, within the deepest sense, alive.
I keep in mind feeling this eerie enchantment one early-autumn afternoon as I climbed the slim wood stairs to Emily Dickinson’s bed room — which was additionally her writing room — throughout my lengthy immersion in her life whereas writing Figuring. I ran my fingers over the graceful mahogany of the tiny sleigh mattress by which she slept and dreamt and cherished. I ran them over her miniature cherrywood writing desk — these seventeen sq. inches, on which she conjured up cosmoses of reality in a whole lot of poems volcanic with magnificence.

In one other season, in one other metropolis, I felt the eerie enchantment once more as I beheld the small spherical lock of her auburn hair by the museum glass and the epochs between us — the marvel of the way it was potential to really feel a lot by the sheer proximity to a clump of unfeeling atoms that had outlived the momentary constellation of consciousness they as soon as animated with humanity, with poetry, with feeling. A self-conscious, shimmering strangeness.
That eerie enchantment comes aglow in Nina Simone’s Gum: A Memoir of Issues Misplaced and Discovered (public library) by Australian musician and composer Warren Ellis — a wierd and shimmering e book, alive with the deepest questions of what makes us who we’re and why we make the life-stuff we name artwork, utilizing the chewing gum Ellis as soon as pried from underneath Nina Simone’s piano as a lens on reminiscence, mortality, and our seek for that means.
What emerges is one thing not fetishistic however belonging to the stream of time, which casts ashore the artifacts of the lives it inescapably washes away, identical to it should wash away yours and mine and Ellis’s, prefer it washed away Nina Simone’s. This flotsam of objects — the tales they carry, the previous selves they carry — turns into the one time journey accessible to us, mortal creatures manufactured from lifeless stars in an entropy-governed universe whose basic legal guidelines goal the arrow of time at one vacation spot solely. These artifacts shimmer for us with that means past their materiality, as a result of someplace within the core of our being, we acknowledge them as our solely “brilliant spark of resurrection.”

Ellis — who started enjoying the violin at age 7, fell underneath the instrument’s lifelong spell after studying the second motion of Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony, and continued enjoying the identical violin for twenty-one years, by elementary faculty and faculty, by busking within the streets of Europe and enjoying with Nick Cave and the Dangerous Seeds — had lengthy worshipped Nina Simone, “the divine incarnate,” whose voice appeared to hold the identical cosmos of emotion that bellowed from the violin’s reanimation of Beethoven. For Ellis, the thought that his atoms would ever are available shut proximity to hers appeared as fantastical as assembly Beethoven.
After which, one summer season day in 1999, they did.
His longtime good friend and collaborator Nick Cave — himself an uncommonly soulful and penetrating thinker about loss, reminiscence, and transcendence — was directing London’s Meltdown Competition, and Nina Simone was to carry out. No person but knew it — for such is the murderous cruelty of lasts shot by time’s error — however it will be her final present in London.
Cave recounts the nested strangenesses of that fateful night:
Nina Simone was a god to me and to my mates. The nice Nina Simone. The legendary Nina Simone. The troublemaker and danger taker who taught us every thing we wanted to know in regards to the nature of inventive disobedience. She was the actual deal, the baddest of all of them, and somebody was tapping me on the shoulder and telling me that Nina Simone needed to see me in her dressing-room.
She had summoned Cave to subject a commandment. Sitting there in her billowing white robe and Cleopatraesque metallic gold eye make-up, “imperious and belligerent, in a wheelchair, consuming champagne,” with “a number of engaging, anxious males” lined in opposition to the wall, she checked out him “with open disdain” and declared that she needed him to introduce her — as “Physician Nina Simone.” (She had acquired her first honorary levels within the Seventies at Amherst Faculty, a block from Emily Dickinson’s bed room, simply as Ellis was starting his life in music.)
Cave issued an overeager “OK!” (In my thoughts, he curtsied.) And so, after his introduction, the present — which might finish in “mutual rapture”: the viewers in a state of grateful transcendence, Physician Nina Simone “restored, woke up, transfigured” — started with intense emotional discord.
Sitting 5 rows from the stage — “awestruck and glowing as if from a dream,” in his good friend’s recollection — Ellis watched Nina Simone sit down on the Steinway, wanting malcontented and indignant and in ache, staring unsmiling at her followers whereas smoking her cigarette, smoking her cigarette whereas chewing her gum, “chewing with this look of drained defiance on her face.”
One thing about that struck Ellis as completely implausible. It strikes me — the gum, the poetic incongruence of it — as tangible, chewable proof of Whitman’s everlasting perception that we comprise multitudes, maybe all of the extra multifarious in proportion to an individual’s genius, which is all the time the product of larger inside complexity. Ellis recounts what occurred subsequent:
The gang received to its ft when “Dr Nina Simone” got here from Nick’s mouth and she or he moved onto the stage slowly. Folks have been clapping, crying, screaming, ecstatic. I had by no means felt vitality like that in a room. It was unfathomable to suppose we have been in her presence. These moments you don’t consider are actual. When you recognize life won’t ever be the identical after.
[…]
With nice problem she walked to the entrance of the stage and she or he simply put her clenched fist up within the air and simply went, “Yeah!” Similar to that. And I believe there was this sort of reply, like a “yeah!” again, again to her. I keep in mind nothing got here out of my mouth as I tried to answer. After which she did it once more: “Yeah.” The sound of two thousand folks gulping and their breath being sucked out of them.

There isn’t any romanticizing the truth that this individual of staggering genius self-medicated her longtime melancholy with substances, the abuse of which had caught as much as her in a grim manner by these last years of her life — a lifetime of greatness staggered quick by these very crutches for struggling. (Champaigne, cocaine, and sausages have been among the many issues she demanded be dropped at her backstage.) And but there she was, majestic in her genius, unsaved by her genius, chewing her gum. With the empathetic poetry of perspective that underscores his e book, Ellis writes:
I keep in mind studying a couple of second in her life within the mid-sixties when she received actually depressed. Somebody advised her, “You already know, you’re carrying the burden of everyone in your shoulders. It’s regular that you need to crack up.” That we have been about to see her carry out in 1999 was a miracle.
As quickly as she sat down on the Steinway, Nina Simone took the gum out of her mouth and caught it underneath the piano; as quickly as she walked off the stage, reworked and triumphal, Ellis leapt onto it as if in a trance, pried the gum from the piano, wrapped it within the deserted towel she had used to wipe her sweat, and leapt off. He stuffed his unusual bounty right into a bright-yellow Towel Information bag and went again to his lodge.
He started carrying it with him on tour, within the briefcase — that was the period — containing his “transportable shrine,” alongside a 2B Staedtler pencil and a theosophical version of Notes on the Bhagavad-Ghita, a poem from a good friend and a inexperienced ballpoint pen from a Munich hospital, a pink Japanese deal with e book and a cross he had given his mom, which she had given again to him. A couple of times, maybe the best way one attracts energy from an amulet, he regarded on the gum in his lodge room, however he by no means touched it or eliminated it from the towel. Its existence remained largely a secret — partly the sanctity of the non-public talisman, partly his self-conscious sense that no person else would care about Nina Simone’s chewed gum.
After which, 9/11 occurred. Along with his large beard, odd gear, and time-traveler garb, Ellis turned the topic of fixed bomb checks. Between the sniffer canines and the overall chaos, his unusual relic now not appeared secure in its towel and Tower Information bag. He determined to safekeep it at residence. It lived for some time atop his personal piano, however that started feeling too unsafe. He stuffed it in a vase within the window above the piano, however remained uneasy. He disassembled the piano and tucked it behind the soundboard.
Whereas touring, he started having panic assaults that one thing would occur to the gum, although his watchful spouse knew precisely the place the gum was and precisely what it meant to her husband.
When Ellis constructed himself a house studio, full with a tiny shrine, he positioned the Towel Information bag there, alongside a black-and-white {photograph} of his youngsters enjoying within the backyard and a bust of Beethoven. Ultimately, that too got here to really feel unsafe — he moved the gum to a wood chest he had constructed within the attic and tucked it away alongside along with his tax returns.
It remained there for a few years, till Nick Cave requested his good friend whether or not he nonetheless had the gum he had snatched from Nina Simone’s piano that unusual and transcendent midsummer evening in 1999.
20 years later, with Nina Simone gone to canon and stardust, her gum appeared inside a velvet-lined, temperature-controlled wood-and-glass field on atop a marble pedestal on the Royal Danish Library, a part of Stranger Than Kindness — Nick Cave’s Copenhagen exhibition turned e book, exploring “the wild-eyed and compulsive superstructure” of artistic influences beneath any inventive physique of labor, a topic he has contemplated with unusual poetry of perception.
Seen from a long way, the miniature pedestal rises in its warm-lit case like a votive on the altar of some alien temple.
Ellis writes:
One thing shifted when others turned conscious of the gum’s existence. I considered what number of tiny secrets and techniques there have to be on the market within the universe ready to be revealed. How many individuals have secret locations with deserted goals, filled with surprise.
Besides the relic on the marble pedestal was not Nina Simone’s gum, at the least not precisely, and the story of its notness made it all of the extra a relic:
After Cave requested in regards to the gum, Ellis had gone into the attic, retrieved the yellow Tower Information bag, unfurled the towel, and regarded on the gum for the primary time in a few years — there it was, unaltered by time or reminiscence, with Nina Simone’s toothprint nonetheless precisely as he recalled it. He displays:
The concept that it was nonetheless in her towel was one thing I had drawn energy from. Just like the final breath of Thomas Edison contained in a sealed check tube, saved within the Henry Ford Museum in Michigan. As Edison lay dying, Henry Ford telephoned Edison’s son and requested if he may seize the nice man’s final breath. So he positioned a rack of check tubes by the mattress and stoppered them when Edison slipped this mortal coil. Unseeable, untouchable, the creativeness that was activated by nothing. That nothing may interact the creativeness. Communal creativeness. That nothing may very well be every thing.
Adopted again far sufficient, every thing that strikes us, every thing we maintain pricey with a ferocity of feeling, is at backside a hedge in opposition to our personal mortality. Ellis realized that after his personal atoms constellate a dwelling individual no extra, this nondescript piece of chewing gum wrapped in a rag inside a twenty-year-old plastic bag would find yourself in a rubbish bin — until others develop into conscious of its origin and significance, forming a chainlink of custodians to make sure the survival of this relic with that means far past its materiality.
The notion of getting the gum out of his orbit, into correct stewardship, into the general public creativeness, all of the sudden appeared like an obligation. Recognizing that the polymers and resins laced with food-grade softeners weren’t equal to the duty of historic preservation, Ellis determined to make a forged of it — an thought impressed by plaster-casts of palms he had seen whereas wandering into Melbourne’s antiquarian honest in search of one of many fourteen surviving copies of William Blake’s America a Prophecy. (Such is the superstructure of influences and artistic catalysts.)
Nervous to not “let the gum down as custodian” if something went awry within the casting course of, Ellis got down to discover a collaborator he may entrust with this inconceivable miniature mausoleum. Even this turns into a meta-meditation on a fundament of artwork and the artistic course of, consonant with my very own credo that a lot of life is a matter of discovering the individuals who amplify your spirit. He writes:
Discovering the fitting folks to work with. That’s the factor, isn’t it? How does that occur? What attracts us to folks? Or them to us? This belief that’s wanted for collaborations to exist. This stunning fragile second every creation has to go.
A Rube Goldberg machine of trusts follows, starting along with his youthful brother’s childhood greatest good friend — an artist from an previous gold mining city in rural Australia that greets guests with a reproduction of the most important gold nugget ever discovered there: a colossal 70-kilogram lump of valuable metallic solid billions of years in the past within the core of some dying star because it collapsed right into a black gap.

As a boy, Ellis had marveled on the nugget from his bike; as a grown man, his thoughts’s eye — that prism of reminiscence and affiliation — introduced again the gold nugget as a magnified model of Nina Simone’s gum, giving him the concept of discovering a jeweler to make the forged.
After some contemplation, his childhood good friend despatched Ellis to the proper individual for the odd job. In a London downpour, fully soaked and so anxious he almost rotated to go residence, Ellis arrived on the doorstep of the expat New Zealander Hannah Upritchard. She remembers him turning up in his wool trousers and waistcoat, “a custodian of one thing large” — one thing large she was about to extract from a twenty-year-old towel utilizing needlepoint tweezers and a high-quality scalpel. Every little thing about this surgical procedure on the toothprinted soul made Ellis shudder. Given the fragile object and the fabric science concerned, it will take a uncommon grasp to forged the relic with out destroying it. Right here he was placing his panicked belief in a complete stranger:
Already conscious I regarded silly sufficient because it was, I may really feel my ears pop and the sound develop into muffled, that sensation if you put your head underwater and your heartbeat turns into an industrial pump… I used to be kind of hovering over her as if she was dealing with a new child child. Attempting to be cool and completely not. I used to be immediately soaked in perspiration and I undid the fourth button on my greatest floral shirt. Three buttons is day time, 4 is for live shows. I actually wasn’t serving to the second so I sat down on the wood kitchen bench and watched her.

Frenzied with the data that this stranger’s regular palms have been the primary to the touch the gum since Nina Simone’s, Ellis felt an fringe of sorrow that any contact would possibly break the spell:
Her spirit existed within the house between the gum and the towel. That live performance was within the gum. That transcendence. That transformation. It took me a while to come back to phrases with the truth that this might be damaged.
When she requested him to carry it, he declined and left, forsaking his fragile belief. Having sensed his unease, she despatched him an assuring {photograph} of the gum sealed away in a neatly labeled empty marmalade jar, tucked into the secure storing the valuable stones she works with. “Don’t fear, Warren. I get it,” the message learn.
This easy kindness, too, turns into a part of the best way by which this seemingly silly challenge is at coronary heart a miniature of the most important truths about artwork and the artistic spirit. Ellis displays:
These three phrases, “I get it.” It’s that second when different folks provide the confidence to belief and let go. Permission to let go. Typically it’s unstated. It’s understood telepathically. Within the studio I’ve skilled this all through my complete artistic life, these moments when folks reassured you with the boldness that allowed you to work to your best potential. Everybody getting it. To this present day I haven’t touched the gum. I haven’t seen it bodily since, besides within the photograph updates of its transformation. The great thing about others taking the baton.
The peace of mind was quickly amplified by Upritchard’s conscientious craftsmanship and her devotion to rendering the proper forged, each bodily and symbolically. After contemplating the 2 potential approaches to casting — making a mould, or scanning the gum and having it 3D-printed — she felt the computerized possibility was “too impersonal and dismissive” to correctly honor this unusual and tender relic. As a substitute, she settled on “one thing cruder but additionally extra sincere and human.”
Warming a walnut-sized ball of pink Tremendous Sculpy along with her palms, she formed into two tiny hemispheres and gently pressed the twenty-year-old gum between them.
Utilizing this mould, she spent weeks perfecting the copy in blue wax, then forged it in silver.
Ellis finds the poetry on this materials feat:
The metaphysical made bodily… The gum was the relic laid within the foundations of a monument being constructed by love and care, with Nina Simone because the goddess over all.
The pictures of the method reminded Ellis of Emily Dickinson’s herbarium, a facsimile of which he owns and cherishes. (As do I, having turned it right into a collaborative music-consecrated celebration of poetry and science.)

As soon as the preliminary forged was made and the spell unbroken, Ellis went on to collaborate with different artists, turning the gum into relics each non-public and public: a silver ring, a white gold ingot, and eventually a sculpture the dimensions of the human coronary heart — the identical measurement and form because the human fist, the fist Nina Simone had raised that long-ago summer season evening onerous along with her sorrow and her energy, chewing her gum.
As soon as once more, Ellis zooms out of the particulars and into the universals of artistic collaboration:
I turned conscious that the gum was bringing out the perfect in folks. It’s all the time been different individuals who have introduced that potential out of me. I’m the inverse of the gum one way or the other. It’s about connection. Individuals who have inspired me to be the perfect I can, permit me to go unrestrained. Letting concepts take flight. Letting me take flight. The surprise of enjoying in a band. Making music with folks. I used to be watching one thing unfold in a visible manner, that I sensed usually as an summary or internalised idea… I may see a course of occurring in entrance of me that was acquainted. An thought coming to life. Like a music or piece of music. Folks rallying round to do what was greatest for the music. Holding it aloft.
One thing about this complete endeavor is making me consider The Golden File — Carl Sagan and Ann Druyan’s poetic gesture to the cosmos, which traveled aboard the Voyager spacecraft into the nice unknown. The Golden File had two functions. The overt scientific one, which received the challenge its NASA greenlight, was an effort to compress, encode, and transmit details about our world to a different — an goal each formidable and naïve, for the chance of this human-made artifact reaching one other life-form within the huge expanse of austere spacetime, intersected with the chance of that potential life-form having the instruments and consciousness able to deciphering the disc, approximates zero.

However The Golden File had a second goal — a poetic goal that continues to be, in historical past’s hindsight, its major: In the midst of the Chilly Warfare, within the aftermath of two World Wars and the assassinations of Dr. King and JFK and Gandhi, right here was one thing holding a mirror as much as humanity, inviting us to replicate on who we’re and what we stand for, reminding us of our capability for magnificence and transcendence encoded in millennia of music from throughout our indivisible Pale Blue Dot — that final poetic reality of what makes us human. What Ellis makes of Nina Simone’s gum — forged in gold, imprinted with the spirit from which her music sprang, fisted with a century’s struggles and triumphs, heartened by the timeless human capability for transcendence — makes of it a kind of Golden File for our personal time.
Within the last pages of Nina Simone’s Gum, Ellis captures this deepest dimension of his inconceivable and wonderful private obsession turned collaborative celebration:
The attractive thought stays with me, that the massive story of this gum is totally projected by folks. Their compassion. It’s inside them, springing from the purest of locations. The creativeness. The divine. The human coronary heart. Every little thing and nothing.
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