ENO=MC2
It seems that Brian Eno is always seen set against blank, white spaces. His publicity photos, intentionally or not, show him leaning against these huge expanses of nothing with the enigmatic half-smile of a technological Mona Lisa, a model of cybernetic transistor cool.
ENO=MC2
Lee Moore
by
It seems that Brian Eno is always seen set against blank, white spaces. His publicity photos, intentionally or not, show him leaning against these huge expanses of nothing with the enigmatic half-smile of a technological Mona Lisa, a model of cybernetic transistor cool.
Those photos offer a visual counterpart to End's sense of musical mystery —his albums are full of quirky little tunes depicting some weird parallel universe where everything is implied and nothing is stated outright. Chuck Berry and John Cage hang out together to trade licks and science moves along the curve until it runs into mysticism. For Eno, that's apparently the ideal interface, a mixture of everything to be found before and after science—the middle ground doesn't interest him at all. Under the hammy hands of a Keith Emerson or a Rick Wakeman, synthesizers make soulless squawks—Eno takes that same col-, lection of hardware and coaxes out poetry.
Sitting against the inevitable white, unadorned wall in his West Village apartment, Brian Eno didn't seem quite so formidable as his reputation would suggest He turned out to be a pleasant, friendly little guy; very slight,