Kate Bush interview in March, 1994 Spin magazine

[William Rodham Wisner <wisner@remarque.berkeley.edu>]

Kate Bush's fans are legendary for the intensity of their devotion. Actress
Laura Dern is no exception. In an exclusive interview, the two artists talk
about love, work, and perfection.


What do you say when someone has truly inspired you? How do you express to
an artist how deeply their work has affected you? Well, for better or worse,
I just had my opportunity.
  I wanted to ask Kate Bush every obvious fan question in the book. I wanted
to let her know how much her work means to me. I wanted to ask the _right_
questions.
  I have no conscious memory of our conversation, because I went into some
altered state of panic. Luckily, I realized that my duty of being Lois Lane,
reporter extraordinaire, would get in my way. So I just tried to chat with
Kate.
  With the release of her new album, _The Red Shoes_, Kate was in the U.S.
for her first visit since 1989. She and I have both recently completed our
directorial debuts on short films -- hers, a 50-minute feature, _The Line,
The Curve and The Cross_, which links six of the new songs through a fairy
tale.
  How fantastic it was to speak with her! It was so unusual to hear that
magical voice that I've heard singing into my inner ear (through headphones)
since 1985. I remember first encountering Kate's music while filming _Blue
Velvet_. I listened to _Hounds of Love_, and instantly felt I had found what
I always longed for music to be: a discovery of self, a journey full of
imagery and passion; and now this voice, this creator and I were having a
conversation.

SPIN: Tell me about your new short film, _The Line, The Curve and The Cross_.
I understand that Michael Powell, the director of the old classic movie _The
Red Shoes_, is a hero of yours. Is your film adapted from his?

Kate Bush: It was something I thought of when we finished the album: to make
a short film that would include some of the songs from the record but also
tell a story. The only stuff I've worked on before has been short videos.

Spin: You've directed almost all of yours for years now.

KB: But I've never done anything like this before, and it was just such an
education for me. I think the most demanding thing was being in it as well as
directing, and I don't think I'd do that again. I found it very difficult --
just having the sheer stamina. But what a wonderful experience, and it's so
different from making an album because you've got this big group of people
all working together on something that has to be done quickly and the albums
are almost completely opposite to that.

Spin: I've read in interviews where you talk about how exciting it's been for
you in the process of mixing, and I thought to myself, "Oh my God, as a
director what an exciting new world that must be for you, with all that you
can do with the visual side." Were you like a kid in a candy store?

KB: To a certain extent, but we were very restricted by having no money and
so little time. But some of it was so new to me -- like working with
dialogue, which I found fascinating. I really enjoyed it. The film is meant
to be like a modern fairy tale. We worked on it so intensely and it's not
been finished for very long, so it's really difficult for me to know what
people will think of it and whether they'll get a sense of story from it.

Spin: The thing I remember when I was a teenager and saw _The Red Shoes_ was
the struggle of this woman's: having to choose between being a dancer and
being with her man. That the passion for love and the passion for dance
couldn't coexist really affected me. I don't know what you think about that.
I hope to believe -- well, I hope to believe a lot of things -- but I hope to
believe that we can be consummate artists as women or revolutionaries, or
whatever women want to be, and also have love, not only for ourselves but
from a partner.

KB: I have to believe that too. It's just not fair to think that it's not
possible. But I suppose the consuming nature of being obsessed with one's
work, or one's art, is obviously something that we probably all struggle with
to try to find a balance.

Spin: In interviews, people always refer to you as this great perfectionist.
Do you agree with that? Do you perceive yourself that way?

KB: Well, if perfectionist means taking a long time, then I would agree with
it. But I really don't think that it's possible to make things perfect,
really. In some ways, there's almost an attempt to try to achieve something
that is quite imperfect. Do you know what I mean? And to be able to find a
way of leaving it with certain raw edges, so that the heart doesn't go out of
it. I don't think of myself as a perfectionist at all.

Spin: Critics, especially men, seem to describe women who are briliant at
what they do as perfectionists or loners or difficult to get at. I always
find that so hilarious because I think someone who is connected to their work
must be easier to reach than others.

KB: I think so too, it's just that maybe they're going to be a little more
weary.

Spin: Do you struggle to balance your desire to keep a raw, spiritual edge to
your music and a need to make the music accessible? Do you feel confident
enough to just express what you believe and hope the audience catches up?

KB: There's kind of a driving force involved in the whole process of putting
music together, to ultimately ending up with a finished album.  I think
there's a lot of stuff that I don't even question until other people come in
and listen to the music, and it's almost like suddenly you're listening to
things through other people's ears. I suppose that's when it gets a bit
difficult. Sometimes I'm aware that things were actually a little more
personal than I'd realized. But I suppose I feel if, when you are actually
creating something, it feels kind of honest, it feels good, then that's the
point where the intenion matters, and then from that point onwards it's just
a matter of being brave enough to actually let it go.

Spin: That's why I've always loved film more than theater, and film may be
more closely related to making a record because you have that ability to go
in and do your work and have no judgment around it, and feel honest. Then,
much later, it's presented to people. But in theater, people come backstage
after a performance and you're about to do the same play again the next
night, and people say, "Well, I didn't really believe that emotion" or
whatever. It's really hard for me, I like to be closed up and just do the
work.

KB: That's a very interesting observation, I'd not actually thought of it
like that, but you're quite right. Films are kept very personal for quite a
long time.

Spin: I've always been so curious to know if there are certain of your own
songs or albums that you feel most proud of, or most connected to?

KB: I suppose, like most people, I tend to feel closest to the work I've most
recently done. In a lot of ways, it's like extracts from a diary: If you look
back at things in your past and consider events, it's like, "Oh God, no." You
tend to feel differently about things as you move through two or three years.
And I suppose also, hopefully, you like to think that you are getting better
at what you do, more mature in your craft. Quite soon after that, there comes
a point where you just want to do something completely different from the
most recent piece of work in order to shake it off.

Spin: Have you ever gone back and either thought about songs you've written,
or listened to your music from years before, and learned something you hadn't
recognized, or understoof something that at the time you didn't understand?

KB: I'm not sure I've ever reinterpreted something, but I have definitely
been able to hear things in a different way from how I did at the time. I
very rarely listen to any of my old music; it's the last thing I ever want to
do. But occasionally I end up in a situation where I do, and if enough time
has gone by, I can actually hear how I would do things differently.

Spin: But if art is a contribution, and I certainly know that your music has
been, the one thing that I'm excited about as a listener is that you've been
at different places in your life and have written pieces of music where you
may now think, "if I had only done it that way," but somehow the place you
were at allowed you to write it that way and it affected people who were in
the same place.

KB: There was a reason for it happening then.

Spin: I've always wanted to ask you if you have interests in the shadow side,
in understanding the repressed self -- things we are in denial about.

KB: Creative art is an awfully positive way of channeling the shadow side,
and I think it's much more healthy to explore it and have fun with it within
the boundaries of art. I'm not sure that it's something terribly good to go
looking for. Do you know what I mean? I think it's actually something that
ends up coming to you anyway.