Geneviève Castrée: complete works, 1981 – 2016

Sometimes when you’re too close to something, it can be difficult to objectively gauge its scope or impact. During my earliest days in Olympia, Washington, The Microphones was gaining a decent amount of popularity, but for all I knew, the attention was all local. Phil Elverum lived in the area and was releasing his albums through K Records, at the time. It likely has something to do with the amount of pride that Oly‘s always held in its own independent DIY scenes and how much priority that takes over whatever the latest National trends may be, but whenever something within the city was bumping, I never automatically assumed that it was getting much attention outside of it. If anything, my assumption was that it most likely was not. I mean… it’s still a little weird to me that an unassuming Northwest musician like Elliott Smith is so widely accepted as a musical icon, regardless of his talent or the fact that he deserves it. The idea that people outside of Washington State might be aware of Elverum‘s hometown of Anacortes is enough to boggle my mind. Back in 2001, I had never even heard of Pitchfork, let alone was I aware that they’d made The Glow Pt. 2 their #1 album of the year over releases like Radiohead‘s Amnesiac, Cannibal Ox‘s The Cold Vein, The White Stripes album White Blood Cells, and This Is It by The Strokes.

In 2003, Elverum met Québécois cartoonist/musician, Geneviève Castrée, and the pair married a year later, relocating back to Anacortes. Like her husband, Geneviève was a multi-disciplinary artist who found success following her own unorthodox approach to each medium, whether it be of the auditory or illustrative sort. She had plenty of her graphic work published, and even a book of poetry, which she wrote in her primary language of French. Along with appearing occasionally on her husband’s musical output, she recorded multiple albums of her own under the names of Woelv and Ô Paon. The year she was married, she even released a graphic novel titled Pamplemoussi that included an accompanying record — or, vice versa, depending on how you look at it. Albeit sung entirely in French, every moment of music on that LP felt like it contained an entire story within it, without the need to ever see the related images. Soft, yet powerful soundscapes unfurled. Delicate vocals wafted through, before staking claim in the Earth and radiating out. Her voice could be compared to Björk or Joanna Newsom in the sort of presence it held, but she definitely existed in a realm of her own creation. There was a depth and quality to her work that triggered a familiarity at the most core level; welcoming yet almost unsettling in the way that staring directly into the eyes of a pure being of light might be. For two people to find each other who both had such uncanny abilities to tap into these moods and emotions and summon them in their art is nothing short of remarkable, but while the work that was born from them may prove timeless, even a union as seemingly meant-to-be as theirs couldn’t remain forever.

In 2015 the couple welcomed their first child, a daughter named Agathe. That same year, Geneviève was diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer. In June of 2016, a Go-Fund-Me was created to assist with expenses, but she would ultimately pass in 2016, while being held by her husband and parents. She was only 35 years old. Anyone that’s ever been hit with immeasurable tragedy knows the feeling of stumbling alone; the biggest thing in the world has exploded within you, as the rest of the population floats along obliviously. Phil coped by unloading his emotions into the 2017 album, A Crow Looked At Me, which was recorded with the use of her instruments over a 6-week period in the very room where she passed away. Released under his moniker of Mount Eerie, there is little confusion in the lyrics about the subject matter, as Elverum openly grieves about losing the love of his life and wonders how he will raise their child without her. If you’re ever looking for something so raw and beautifully mortal that experiencing it makes you feel like your heart might collapse, this album will definitely do it. A Crow Looked At Me was the result of a human being struggling with how to continue being one, as much about death as it was about idenitifying signs of life. What it wasn’t created to be was the next big hit flying up the charts and thus, it wasn’t promoted as such. Ironically enough, it became Elverum‘s best-selling album of all time; Pitchfork‘s “Best New Music,” no less.

The following year, the critically acclaimed Now Only arrived as somewhat of a companion album and, while it continued to revolve around subjects related to his lost love, it wasn’t a rehash looking to cash in once more on tragedy. If anything, his newer work documented an evolution in his process of coming back to life, while offering greater dimension to both the songwriter and one he lost. More than just focusing on death and how it all ended, he was now able to speak of life and how it began. One of the biggest obstacles with tragedy is to come out the other end without having your entire identity defined by it. For Elverum, who had so often referenced Geneviève, both directly and indirectly, in relation to his own struggles and identity, there comes an additional responsibility to make sure that her memory isn’t defined in a similar way. She is much more than a photo of a dead wife on the nightstand motivating the leading actor in a major motion picture. She is also much more than her relation to Phil Elverum. She was clearly a force.

Sometimes when you’re too close to something, it can be difficult to objectively gauge its scope or impact.

For those that knew Geneviève, they seem to have viewed her as a massive presence. It’s easy to wonder if she was ever aware of that, but my guess is that part of possessing such a quality that inevitably draws people to you is that you have the ability to make others feel larger and more powerful, themselves. Kimya Dawson‘s “I Like Giants,” was inspired by Geneviève, even mentioning her by name multiple times in the lyrics. Arguably one of the best songs in her catalog, it focuses on gaining perspective as individuals within a much larger universe, as it relates to our importance, respective impact, and simply allowing ourselves to take up space as needed. It’s written in a way that credits a conversation with Castrée as blessing her with particular insight, including messages about continuing to live on through hardships and negative feelings. One section that stands out, especially now, includes the following lines:

“So thank you Geneviève, cause you take what is in your head
And you make things that are so beautiful and share them with your friends.“

This October, all the beautiful things that Geneviève made will be bound into a massive monograph and it genuinely looks amazing. Longtime fans of her comics and illustrations should be ecstatic over this one, but more than just a collection of work for those who already love it, this should be a tremendous introduction to those who are brand new to it.

It’s hard to refute that, these days Geneviève is most widely known by the songs of her husband, through which she’s been immortalized, but this 562-page hardcover containing her life work (“pretty much all of it“) shines a spotlight on Castrée as an individual with her own unique vision and impact. It offers a glimpse into what made her so powerful that she went on to inspire some of the best and most affecting work by the fellow artists who knew and loved her. Titled Geneviève Castrée: complete works, 1981 – 2016, it is credited as “the result of 5+ years of careful archiving and arrangement, designed and edited with immense love.” Beyond just recording songs about her and raising their daughter, this is what Phil Elverum has been working on since his wife’s passing, insuring there is a definitive physical documention of her art, vision, and legacy, not only to exist as memory, but to help continue spreading her impact on the world.

Geneviève Castrée: complete works, 1981 – 2016 is available for preorder through P.W. Elverum & Sun.

Check out official details about the release after the following product images.

Here is the book cover blurb:
Geneviève Castrée (1981 – 2016)
A singular self-taught artist born in Québec and raised between Montreal’s punk suburbs and the raw forests of British Columbia, Geneviève was swept away early by comics. She knew she would be a cartoonist from the age of nine. Castrée’s self-published mini-comics brought her into the Montreal underground scene while she was a teenager and a life of unrelenting creativity followed. Obscure and beloved at the same time, touring the world for art exhibitions and concerts and hermitting through dark seasons, Castrée spent her adult life in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, Phil Elverum, and their daughter. She drew constantly, sculpted in porcelain, and released music under the name Ô Paon.

From rarely- or never-seen illustrations and comics, to album covers, sculptures and letterpressed posters, to studio scraps and notebook ideas, Geneviève Castrée: Complete Works 1981-2016 is a breathtaking collection of Castrée’s work and life. The book includes nearly the entirety of her published work plus hundreds of pages more.

Edited, designed and introduced by Phil Elverum.
Prefaced by Julie Doucet.
Translated with Aleshia Jensen.
Published by Drawn & Quarterly, Montréal, October 2022

NOTE:  This is a pre-order.  Books will ship out in early October 2022.