There's a particular image that lingers, isn't there? A child, seven years old, with dandelions clutched tight, arching backward over the grass like a bridge in a fallen handstand, a wild grin splitting their face. It’s an image of pure, unadulterated joy, the kind that comes from simply being, from the sheer exuberance of doing nothing at all. This vivid scene, captured in the title poem of Lana Del Rey's debut spoken-word album, Violet Bent Backwards Over the Grass, offers a potent glimpse into the artist's world beyond the shimmering, often melancholic, soundscapes of her music.
It’s easy to think of Lana Del Rey solely through her chart-topping hits, her cinematic visuals, and her distinctive vocal style. But as she revealed during a period of creative block in 2017, her inner world also found expression through poetry. This wasn't a sudden pivot, but rather a natural extension of her artistic impulse, a way to articulate thoughts and feelings that perhaps music alone couldn't fully encompass at that moment. The result was Violet Bent Backwards Over the Grass, a collection born from a deeply personal space, later brought to life through spoken word and accompanied by music crafted by Jack Antonoff.
The album, released in July 2020, and its accompanying poetry book, published by Simon & Schuster in September 2020, are more than just creative detours. They are testaments to an artist exploring different facets of her voice. Del Rey herself described the poems as "eclectic and honest and not trying to be anything other than what they are." Some arrived fully formed, dictated and typed out, while others were meticulously crafted, word by word. This dedication to authenticity shines through, creating a raw and intimate listening and reading experience.
The themes woven through Violet Bent Backwards Over the Grass are rich and evocative. There's a palpable sense of longing for mid-20th century Americana, a nostalgic pull towards a romanticized past. But it’s not just about looking back; the collection also engages with feminist ideas, offering a nuanced perspective on womanhood and identity. The poems often feel like intimate confessions, whispered secrets shared on a late-night drive or scribbled in a journal. The spoken-word delivery, sometimes raw and unpolished, adds another layer of vulnerability, making the listener feel like a confidante.
The album's cover art, an oil painting by Erika Lee Sears, further enhances this Californian, sun-drenched, yet slightly off-kilter aesthetic that has become synonymous with Del Rey. It’s a visual echo of the poetry within – a blend of bright, almost overwhelming sunshine and the quiet, introspective moments of a typed poem.
Ultimately, Violet Bent Backwards Over the Grass invites us to see Lana Del Rey not just as a musician, but as a poet whose words, like that image of the young girl in the grass, possess a unique power to capture fleeting moments of profound feeling. It’s a reminder that art often finds its most compelling forms when artists dare to bend backwards, exploring new landscapes of expression.
