Remarkably, the renowned Brazilian writer Paulo Coelho is a vocal proponent of the piracy of his own works. Piracy has such a powerful connotation that "sharing" may be a more apt description. Coelho's books have been translated by other writers and fans into myriad languages, and now they bounce around in digital form for anyone to enjoy. Like most creators who share their work in this way, Coelho depends upon the premise that those who take pleasure in his writing will eventually buy hard copies. And when this model of dissemination works, it really works.
Read on about the author's views on piracy and much more at paulocoelhoblog.com
Of course, I've read The Alchemist with its intoxicating, timeless narrative. Like any great work, its simplicity and exoticism make it a classic fable. For me, next on deck from Coelho must be The Pilgrimage, which follows his autobiographical journey on the famed Camino de Santiago de Compostela.
This one, O Livro dos Manuais, is a "practical guide for your life" according to the jacket, and I perused the work in it's entirety online, for free. Although you should check it out in .pdf form, it'd be worth buying for the vibrant illustrations alone! Que linda obra de verdade!
29.9.11
28.9.11
Say what?
The time has come again, as it tends to do without much prompting, to change the name around here. I'd say, based on the length of these posts, that I've not exactly adhered to my previous intent with the title ad rem but at least I can say I've tried to "keep to the point." I can also say, however, that I've probably poached a decent number of hits from the recently defunct rock band of legend -- not that they missed 'em any!
I'll use this title for a spell because I'm still curious about you. I explore topics that interest me, and it seems others have an interest, too, but you're a woefully silent crew.
Who are you? What do you think? Speak up...please, with a cherry on top?
Hit the "like" button. Oh, whoops! Wrong place.
Use your words like a big boy or girl.
All jokes aside, I value your perspective, for real!
So, onward with the next phrase to go by: quis leget haec?
Who are you? What do you think? Speak up...please, with a cherry on top?
Hit the "like" button. Oh, whoops! Wrong place.
Use your words like a big boy or girl.
All jokes aside, I value your perspective, for real!
8.9.11
I'm Glad Krulwich Wonders
These two little oddities come from a great NPR blog called Krulwich Wonders. The author and radio host is better recognized as one half of the team, along with Jad Abumrad, responsible for the always enthralling WNYC show and podcast series called Radiolab. A good while ago, I lumped Radiolab in with a few other podcasts I still enjoy when I can (mostly while walking the poochie), so check those out here.
In the meantime, enjoy this optical illusion from Krulwich's cool post on visual trickery -- "This Can't Be Happening" -- followed by a hypnotizing video from some clever geeks at Harvard.
Here are Krulwich's directions for this first image:
In the meantime, enjoy this optical illusion from Krulwich's cool post on visual trickery -- "This Can't Be Happening" -- followed by a hypnotizing video from some clever geeks at Harvard.
Here are Krulwich's directions for this first image:
Below, you will see two circles composed of parallelograms. There's a dot in the middle of the image. Focus on the dot. Move your head in, then move it out.
image by B. Pinna
4.8.11
Revien Debuts in Athens, GA: Radiohead, Neko Case, Originals and Classics
With compositions that traverse centuries, Revien is a new trio including members of the Georgia Guitar Quartet, Maps and Transit, and the Odd Trio. While remaining rooted in classical refinement, their original take on chamber music defies expectations and branches out into contemporary, even pop territory, to exquisite effect.
July 16th at Hendershot's Coffee Bar was Revien's "maiden voyage" and it did, indeed, feel like a return to past loves with renewed enthusiasm via compositions by DeBussy, Bach, de Falla, as well as fresh takes on Radiohead, Grizzly Bear, Led Zepplin, and Neko Case. Originals by guitarists Brian Smith (GGQ, Odd Trio) and Kyle Dawkins (GGQ, Maps and Transit) round out the group's expansive repertoire, a bohemian stew that's bound to come to a boil as more live shows ensue. Phil Snyder's (GGQ) alternatingly fibrous yet delicate cello ties together the trio's guitar, mandolin, and effects-laden tangents. It is, in part, Snyder's return to his first instrument, his first musical passion, that gives the new group its name, derived from the French "to return" or "to come back".
The three close-knit musicians have honed their musical connection over years touring with the Georgia Guitar Quartet. Still, there's a freshness to the approach. They took liberties with folk pop, like their ethereal version of Grizzly Bear's "Foreground", and reallocated bluesy, bluegrass syncopation to the classic rock of Led Zepplin's "Bron-Y-Aur Stomp"; I'd reckon most in the capacity crowd had never seen Smith wielding a slide over nylon strings, and the result was oddly down-home. Near the close of the first set was Dawkins' "Ants in a Shell", a Maps and Transit piece commissioned as part of Brian Smith's Spring 2011 suite entitled "Daedalus", incorporating brilliant, understated electronic effects and a charming, Eastern-sounding mandolin technique using a drumstick.
Beyond the reinvented modern covers, Snyder captivated to start the second set with two Bach solos ("Sarabande", "Courante") featuring his dexterity and sensitivity. Another gorgeous cello solo, "Standing by the Icarian Sea", was also from Smith's "Daedalus" show at Canopy Studio in Athens. The cellist remarked that Smith's composition was good fun to play--and equally challenging--which was evident as the pony-tailed Snyder smiled lightly amidst heavy concentration. Neko Case's "Vengeance is Sleeping" was a standout arrangement that had an effortless, floating sound like slicing through the first watermelon of summer, knowing life's fleeting sweetness as string textures built up in delicate strata.
Once Smith and Dawkins rejoined their "vocalist", as the group thinks of Snyder's lyrical cello phrasing, the second set unfurled easily with a warm rendition of Radiohead's "Weird Fishes", a deftly arranged Simon & Garfunkel tune, and more classical obscurities from Debussy and contemporary cellist David Popper. The trio's rendition of Manuel de Falla's "La Vie Breve" was a triumphant finale, a harbinger of many stellar performances to come.
July 16th at Hendershot's Coffee Bar was Revien's "maiden voyage" and it did, indeed, feel like a return to past loves with renewed enthusiasm via compositions by DeBussy, Bach, de Falla, as well as fresh takes on Radiohead, Grizzly Bear, Led Zepplin, and Neko Case. Originals by guitarists Brian Smith (GGQ, Odd Trio) and Kyle Dawkins (GGQ, Maps and Transit) round out the group's expansive repertoire, a bohemian stew that's bound to come to a boil as more live shows ensue. Phil Snyder's (GGQ) alternatingly fibrous yet delicate cello ties together the trio's guitar, mandolin, and effects-laden tangents. It is, in part, Snyder's return to his first instrument, his first musical passion, that gives the new group its name, derived from the French "to return" or "to come back".
The three close-knit musicians have honed their musical connection over years touring with the Georgia Guitar Quartet. Still, there's a freshness to the approach. They took liberties with folk pop, like their ethereal version of Grizzly Bear's "Foreground", and reallocated bluesy, bluegrass syncopation to the classic rock of Led Zepplin's "Bron-Y-Aur Stomp"; I'd reckon most in the capacity crowd had never seen Smith wielding a slide over nylon strings, and the result was oddly down-home. Near the close of the first set was Dawkins' "Ants in a Shell", a Maps and Transit piece commissioned as part of Brian Smith's Spring 2011 suite entitled "Daedalus", incorporating brilliant, understated electronic effects and a charming, Eastern-sounding mandolin technique using a drumstick.
![]() |
| Photo by Bob Brussack |
Once Smith and Dawkins rejoined their "vocalist", as the group thinks of Snyder's lyrical cello phrasing, the second set unfurled easily with a warm rendition of Radiohead's "Weird Fishes", a deftly arranged Simon & Garfunkel tune, and more classical obscurities from Debussy and contemporary cellist David Popper. The trio's rendition of Manuel de Falla's "La Vie Breve" was a triumphant finale, a harbinger of many stellar performances to come.
Revien ~ the official site; tumble on over so you don't miss out next time!
20.7.11
Seu Jorge: Charm over Virtuosity
By now, if you've seen Cidade de Deus, or Wes Anderson's eclectically stylish The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, you know about Seu Jorge. He's a tall, handsome fella from Rio de Janeiro, and he's become a superstar of their burgeoning pop culture.
As an actor, he's entirely believable in almost all that he does. He's got charm and an easy going yet intense nature that lends itself to film. In Cidade de Deus (City of God) he plays Mané Galinha (or "Knockout Ned") a favela strutter who's pretty much got it all together amidst the heady drug running and gunning, unfortunately so emblematic of modern Rio. Seu Jorge plays the character with poise and grace, going far beyond the narrative to further draw the audience into a tumultuous but exhilarating world.
Jorge plays the cool, reserved mate, "Pelé dos Santos", most effortlessly in The Life Aquatic despite a nearly line-free character other than his set of David Bowie covers sung in Portuguese. Shamefully, my Bowie knowledge isn't deep enough to truly enjoy the lyrics in Portuguese, but the aura he puts off for the ship's crew, adrift at sea aboard the research vessel Belafonte, is especially intoxicating -- a star quality even in a tiny supporting role.
For all this talk of his acting talents, Seu Jorge's (born Jorge Mário da Silva in 1970) growing fame also stems from his music and his role in the re-invigoration of samba. It seems that this part of Brazilian culture pulses through him with an immutable rhythm. Jorge carries the baton with guitar, cavaquinho, cuíca, pandeiro, ganzá --just a handful of the brigade of samba instruments. He is a revivalist and an experimentalist, a living folk hero who mixes influences (like muddling a giant "genre caipirinha") while emulating the masters like Cartola, Zeca Pagodinho, Chico Buarque, Mestre Marçal, João da Baiana, and so many more worth digging up. Listen to Nelson Cavaquinho for some perspective, then try Seu Jorge's version with psyche rock trio Almaz :
My first inclination was to rail on Seu Jorge for what seems like a lack of intonation in his singing and a consistent o.d. of drama in his delivery, but after seeking out some background, I realize that this may be his goal: samba is not a strict form, but rather one that encourages improvisation and giant doses of personality all smothered in unflappable joy. That affable charisma, Seu Jorge has in unending quantities, like an infinite plateau of sugarcane all growing at least a story high.
This version of the classic samba "Juízo Final" is mighty listenable, probably owing to the strangely haunting melody, but the Almaz rhythm section adds plenty, down to the last beats which nearly conjure up James Brown's notorious "Funky Drummer".
His pride as a Carioca (anyone from Rio) in Brazil and internationally is evident in his every appearance on stage. As a samba vocalist, he's carrying on a tradition in a legendary fashion; decades from now, he'll be at the top of a short list of influential Brazilian artists and culture-makers. In fact, he's already there. With trends (for the most part) heading toward the constantly current yet consistently disposable, Seu Jorge makes his countrymen and connoisseurs take notice not with glitz but with a profound respect for the tenets of Brazilian culture: comunidade, orgulho, amizade, beleza, jóia!
Seu Jorge & Almaz - the official site
Interview - a nice piece by Kamille Viola for SoundandColours.com
Mais filmes - complete filmography at IMDB.com
As an actor, he's entirely believable in almost all that he does. He's got charm and an easy going yet intense nature that lends itself to film. In Cidade de Deus (City of God) he plays Mané Galinha (or "Knockout Ned") a favela strutter who's pretty much got it all together amidst the heady drug running and gunning, unfortunately so emblematic of modern Rio. Seu Jorge plays the character with poise and grace, going far beyond the narrative to further draw the audience into a tumultuous but exhilarating world.
Jorge plays the cool, reserved mate, "Pelé dos Santos", most effortlessly in The Life Aquatic despite a nearly line-free character other than his set of David Bowie covers sung in Portuguese. Shamefully, my Bowie knowledge isn't deep enough to truly enjoy the lyrics in Portuguese, but the aura he puts off for the ship's crew, adrift at sea aboard the research vessel Belafonte, is especially intoxicating -- a star quality even in a tiny supporting role.
For all this talk of his acting talents, Seu Jorge's (born Jorge Mário da Silva in 1970) growing fame also stems from his music and his role in the re-invigoration of samba. It seems that this part of Brazilian culture pulses through him with an immutable rhythm. Jorge carries the baton with guitar, cavaquinho, cuíca, pandeiro, ganzá --just a handful of the brigade of samba instruments. He is a revivalist and an experimentalist, a living folk hero who mixes influences (like muddling a giant "genre caipirinha") while emulating the masters like Cartola, Zeca Pagodinho, Chico Buarque, Mestre Marçal, João da Baiana, and so many more worth digging up. Listen to Nelson Cavaquinho for some perspective, then try Seu Jorge's version with psyche rock trio Almaz :
My first inclination was to rail on Seu Jorge for what seems like a lack of intonation in his singing and a consistent o.d. of drama in his delivery, but after seeking out some background, I realize that this may be his goal: samba is not a strict form, but rather one that encourages improvisation and giant doses of personality all smothered in unflappable joy. That affable charisma, Seu Jorge has in unending quantities, like an infinite plateau of sugarcane all growing at least a story high.
Juízo Final
Composição: Élcio Soares / Nelson Cavaquinho
O sol....há de brilhar mais uma vez
A luz....há de chegar aos corações
Do mal....será queimada a semente
A luz....há de chegar aos corações
Do mal....será queimada a semente
O amor...será eterno novamente
É o Juízo Final, a história do bem e do mal
Quero ter olhos pra ver, a maldade desaparecer
É o Juízo Final, a história do bem e do mal
Quero ter olhos pra ver, a maldade desaparecer
O amor...será eterno novamente
O amor...será eterno novamente
This version of the classic samba "Juízo Final" is mighty listenable, probably owing to the strangely haunting melody, but the Almaz rhythm section adds plenty, down to the last beats which nearly conjure up James Brown's notorious "Funky Drummer".
His pride as a Carioca (anyone from Rio) in Brazil and internationally is evident in his every appearance on stage. As a samba vocalist, he's carrying on a tradition in a legendary fashion; decades from now, he'll be at the top of a short list of influential Brazilian artists and culture-makers. In fact, he's already there. With trends (for the most part) heading toward the constantly current yet consistently disposable, Seu Jorge makes his countrymen and connoisseurs take notice not with glitz but with a profound respect for the tenets of Brazilian culture: comunidade, orgulho, amizade, beleza, jóia!
Seu Jorge & Almaz - the official site
Interview - a nice piece by Kamille Viola for SoundandColours.com
Mais filmes - complete filmography at IMDB.com
18.7.11
America ReCycled: Pedaling with Purpose
Brothers can have a rare bond, and the Brothers Hussin are no exception with their creative, two-wheeled endeavor to traverse our great nation in an effort to explore and "restore local culture". I learned about the America ReCycled project via Tim Hussin's excellent photo blog titled Meanderings. His work caught my eye for its clarity and a sense of objectivity. The images read like documents, demonstrative yet intriguing, deftly capturing time and space and sentiment.
AmericaReCycled - the project site with the first slick video segments!
Meanderings - Tim Hussin's photo blog
Some road gear via thussin.blogspot.com
As for the continental bike trip, Tim and Noah Hussin used Kickstarter.com to gear up for the expedition, and they've been writing and filming the adventure with regular, extensive updates posted to AmericaReCycled.org via their solar-powered laptop. The timeline is a bit fuzzy, but their fundraising "mission statement" indicates plans for posts from the road (many interesting reports are up already), film segments, and later on a book and a feature-length documentary. According to the site:
All across the country, people are finding innovative ways to come together and make revolutionary change on a local level, to regain control of their lives, rediscover independence, and recycle the American Dream.Follow along on their journey. These guys have an eye for ecclectic, innovative living, and they capture it all expertly (looks like in HD). So far, the project, which documents unique communities, is really worth watching as the brothers reveal, essentially, our own American backyard.
AmericaReCycled - the project site with the first slick video segments!
Meanderings - Tim Hussin's photo blog
14.7.11
Introducing...Revien
My prolific and talented (ex) neighbor is at it again with a new trio. Based on his growing list of musical adventures, you can tell the fleet-fingered fella is into the numbers: Georgia Guitar Quartet, Odd Trio, and now Revien.
Along with two members of the GGQ, multi-instrumentalist Kyle Dawkins and cellist Phil Snyder, guitarist/composer/arranger Brian Smith forges ahead into exciting new realms. Call it psyche-classical, chamberdelia, or some kind of mystery mezcla; call it music from some super-talents, and call it something you need to hear.
Revien debuts on Smith's go-to stage at Hendershot's Coffee Bar in Athens, GA this Saturday night with a new sound that goes "beyond the traditional chamber music experience, and spans the distance from Bach sonatas to Radiohead; from Duke Ellington to Debussy; from Spanish-flavored guitar and cello music to bluegrass-inspired Led Zeppelin romps."
Georgia Guitar Quartet
Odd Trio
Maps and Transit
Along with two members of the GGQ, multi-instrumentalist Kyle Dawkins and cellist Phil Snyder, guitarist/composer/arranger Brian Smith forges ahead into exciting new realms. Call it psyche-classical, chamberdelia, or some kind of mystery mezcla; call it music from some super-talents, and call it something you need to hear.
Revien debuts on Smith's go-to stage at Hendershot's Coffee Bar in Athens, GA this Saturday night with a new sound that goes "beyond the traditional chamber music experience, and spans the distance from Bach sonatas to Radiohead; from Duke Ellington to Debussy; from Spanish-flavored guitar and cello music to bluegrass-inspired Led Zeppelin romps."
Sound intriguing?
Mais oui!
8 o'clock, sharpish.
Georgia Guitar Quartet
Odd Trio
Maps and Transit
10.6.11
More Ukiyo-e & Other Prints
Because it was such a pleasant chore last time, I've decided to reprise my virtual print collecting expedition. Finding a golden trove like Davidson Galleries out of Seattle, WA (last time I went searching for viscosity prints) was a stroke of luck that opened my eyes to the vastness of printmaking as a genre.
Snow in the Countryside (1909) by Kamisaka Sekka
These selections draw from more traditional roots: some Japanese woodcuts and a talented contemporary artist thrown in for contrast. This print by Sekka has all the movement of a fierce winter storm, and it's achieved with so few shapes; it's a testament to the striking simplicity and grace of the discipline. I just enjoy looking at these when I click through, and I hope you do, too.
Of all the Japanese woodcuts, those by Kawase Hasui, in particular, had a way of capturing the essence of fleeting nature, a gust of wind or a snowflake melting on a windowpane, that could transport the viewer into the moment, into the light of the past. The glowing grey-blue gradation in this Shōwa-era print deftly depicts the rising crystalline moonlight. One can almost imagine the feel of the cold granite in the foreground, smoothed over centuries by nightly winds rushing through the valley below.
Kiyomizu Temple Kyoto (1933) by Kawase Hasui
Now I realize the last image here is not strictly a print, but the concept of remaking Ukiyo-e via digital photography -- and executing it so immpecably -- meant I had to include it. The Canadian artist, Jeff Wall (1946 - ), is a master in a highly orchestrated, directorial style of photography. According to Greg Fallis of Sunday Salon, hosted by Utata.org:
A great deal of Wall’s work seems to be an attempt to be such a “painter.” He even recreates the work of painters he believes met Baudelaire’s standard. For example, Wall is quite taken with the woodcuts of Hokusai, a Japanese artist who lived in the late 18th and early 19th century. In the following woodcut, Hokusai depicted a sort of Cartier-Bresson moment…a decisive moment.
Wall recreated the scene on a cranberry farm in rural Canada. In keeping with his obsessive, directorial style, he staged the photograph with great care. He selected the location to match Hokusai’s wind-bent trees. He had the subjects crouch and hold their hats similar to Hokusai’s. He recreated the hat that was blown away, and the scattering of papers. And yet he made it a completely contemporary image by setting it in a Canadian landscape and including the line of telephone poles.
Wall’s photo has all the drama and spontaneity of Hokusai’s woodcut. There is a wonderful sense of immediacy and tension. How was he able to create such an atmosphere and still reproduce Hokusai’s image so faithfully? By using the magic of digital imagery. Wall’s image is actually a composite of more than 100 separate photographs taken over two winters.
Fallis continues to explain how huge these prints are on display, taking up an entire wall of a gallery on a lightbox, but beyond this reincarnation of a great Hokusai print, its accuracy and emotion, I find the philosophy behind the work to be inspired and thoughtful. Just as in the prints by Hasui and Sekka, the everyday is elevated to historical significance through the remarkable rendering of these scenes.
8.6.11
Chicken's Last Road Trip
I passed a truckload of chickens this morning before the Southern heat became a swelter this afternoon. In their rolling cages, their dingy feathers fluttered and revealed a bright white underpinning that'd soon need scalding and plucking, no doubt; well, could've been a layer I suppose, so maybe there's some doubt. Anyhow, somewhere I learned that chickens in transport are drugged beforehand to calm their nerves, possibly to keep their meat from spoilage by some version of "junglefowl" adrenaline -- maybe it's the same good old adrenaline regarldess of species, but I'm no zoologist.
Most of these unlucky cluckers stared out at the passing countryside bleery-eyed; who knows their focal length -- they're certainly not old enough for cataracts in the factory system. One bird, however, seemed more alert than the rest, and this one clung to the edge of the truck, outside its cage in a little alcove, peering out at me as I passed. The plump, billowing chicken was nearly immovable in the gusts of transit, but I'd seen his ilk, as have we all in Perdue's and Tyson's and Gold Kist's North Georgia, flattened and wasted on the ashphalt, dinner's 2-d version.
With Dr. Kevorkian's death this week, I began thinking, "What's stopping this one Houdini chicken from briskly flapping to a glorious, high-speed demise in place of a putrid, yet USDA certified, factory slaughter down the road?" All chickeny rationality aside, this specimen's last ride was akin to the Thelma and Louise of poultry production. There he/she was in the open air, feathers ruffled, gazing out on unknown fields chock full of worms and hoppers and beetles of deep, nether-tasted flavors. For as flavorless as its meat or eggs likely were, that 'James Dean' chicken may as well have scooched its floppy body, albeit completely lacking in muscle tone due to lifelong confinement, and tumbled on up to the chicken-God on high, issuing forth a glorious plume of feathers with a final liberating squak -- all at highway velocity and not a tap of the airbrakes from the trucker.
I reckon, here ends this comment'ry on the self-determination of captive 'Merican poultry. Amen.
Most of these unlucky cluckers stared out at the passing countryside bleery-eyed; who knows their focal length -- they're certainly not old enough for cataracts in the factory system. One bird, however, seemed more alert than the rest, and this one clung to the edge of the truck, outside its cage in a little alcove, peering out at me as I passed. The plump, billowing chicken was nearly immovable in the gusts of transit, but I'd seen his ilk, as have we all in Perdue's and Tyson's and Gold Kist's North Georgia, flattened and wasted on the ashphalt, dinner's 2-d version.
With Dr. Kevorkian's death this week, I began thinking, "What's stopping this one Houdini chicken from briskly flapping to a glorious, high-speed demise in place of a putrid, yet USDA certified, factory slaughter down the road?" All chickeny rationality aside, this specimen's last ride was akin to the Thelma and Louise of poultry production. There he/she was in the open air, feathers ruffled, gazing out on unknown fields chock full of worms and hoppers and beetles of deep, nether-tasted flavors. For as flavorless as its meat or eggs likely were, that 'James Dean' chicken may as well have scooched its floppy body, albeit completely lacking in muscle tone due to lifelong confinement, and tumbled on up to the chicken-God on high, issuing forth a glorious plume of feathers with a final liberating squak -- all at highway velocity and not a tap of the airbrakes from the trucker.
I reckon, here ends this comment'ry on the self-determination of captive 'Merican poultry. Amen.
26.5.11
500 Words on Pictures: Make It Then, Now Take It
Walking the dog this morning, a young guy passed in front of me, backlit by the morning sun on the thoroughfare. He had on a short-billed cap with a hood pulled up half covering his head, and he wore a narrow goatee that he stroked pensively as he strode on. Because I was listening to a podcast and had the capability in my pocket, the thought flashed through my mind to take his picture.
Most people don't want to have their picture taken by a stranger without permission, so I wondered if asking would do any good. All this came to mind in the few perpendicular steps it took for him to exit my view and continue on with his morning. I realized, as I turned the corner, that today we truly take pictures as opposed to one-hundred-plus years ago when pictures were veritably made.
Some cultures believe that the snapshots take a piece of the subject's soul; the photographic process itself, for these peoples, is a way to rob time or a slice of the spirit from a subject, even if permission is granted. It's no wonder, beyond the pain and suffering of persecution, that photos of Native Americans in the late 1800's portrayed grim faces and steeled eyes, expressions of disdain, sometimes with a glint of fear, and almost always a sense of contempt.
Now we "take" pictures because it's just that simple and quick. For the most part, there isn't any thought given to the process. Of course, in terms of quality and realism, with the addition of color and high-defintion resolution, the photographs taken today can even venture into hyper-realism. Even so, what are all those pixels worth if we can no longer see ourselves?
I recently had a chance to sit for a portrait. The process made me think about how I look to the rest of the world, how the mirror is only an estimation of my face, my identity. I recall a Paul Simon lyric to that effect: "...how I look to a distant constellation that's dying in the corner of the sky" or thereabouts. Maybe this is is what the Native Americans sensed; it was better to be as one was, without seeing from the outside, rather sensing oneself through the mind's eye instead of the camera's.
Most people don't want to have their picture taken by a stranger without permission, so I wondered if asking would do any good. All this came to mind in the few perpendicular steps it took for him to exit my view and continue on with his morning. I realized, as I turned the corner, that today we truly take pictures as opposed to one-hundred-plus years ago when pictures were veritably made.
Some cultures believe that the snapshots take a piece of the subject's soul; the photographic process itself, for these peoples, is a way to rob time or a slice of the spirit from a subject, even if permission is granted. It's no wonder, beyond the pain and suffering of persecution, that photos of Native Americans in the late 1800's portrayed grim faces and steeled eyes, expressions of disdain, sometimes with a glint of fear, and almost always a sense of contempt.
photo: library.buffalo.edu
To make a photograph used to be such an undertaking, as well. The laborious process was methodical and painstaking, yielding a product that was a fine record of a moment but only after great effort. Materials were rather costly, and venues for portraiture were relatively few (not the Glamour Shots in every mall or the portable digital ease of today). But, the result of having your picture "made" was a lasting sliver of a life at that particular moment and something to be cherished.Now we "take" pictures because it's just that simple and quick. For the most part, there isn't any thought given to the process. Of course, in terms of quality and realism, with the addition of color and high-defintion resolution, the photographs taken today can even venture into hyper-realism. Even so, what are all those pixels worth if we can no longer see ourselves?
Would this kid be happier in hi-def?
photo: nationalcowboymuseum.org
I recently had a chance to sit for a portrait. The process made me think about how I look to the rest of the world, how the mirror is only an estimation of my face, my identity. I recall a Paul Simon lyric to that effect: "...how I look to a distant constellation that's dying in the corner of the sky" or thereabouts. Maybe this is is what the Native Americans sensed; it was better to be as one was, without seeing from the outside, rather sensing oneself through the mind's eye instead of the camera's.
18.5.11
Thai Funk Gems : สามอัญมณีไทย
Our relatively local college radio station, WRAS (88.5) out of Georgia State University, has put a couple of Southeast Asian compilations, called Thai Dai and The Sound of Siam, into fairly heavy rotation lately, and I've been loving their power to transport and amaze.
The following selections are considered luk thung, a brand of Thai pop that incorporates plenty of emotive, vibrato singing, but these picks do it with a distinctive flair, blending many international influences. Mighty entertaining!
Sroeng Santi -- an unforgettable style that most modern hipsters would die for!
Sroeng Santi covers Black Sabbath and manages to non-rhyme better than Dylan.
Sangthong Seesai -- some playful English thrown into this one! Happy!
ดังนั้นจึงน่าเกรงขาม!
15.4.11
المغرب العربي | Amazigh Kateb
With so much tumult in the Mahgrib of late, Africa's crown of arid nations seems a land rife with struggle and grief. Be that as it may, there have been victories and progress in places like Tunisia, and in Morocco leaders have managed to avert public discontent through stable governance. Despite all this, I have a sense that the peoples of the vast Sahara's borders are resilient and joyful in the face of all the changes.
In terms of music, I've always been enamored with the mystical sounds of this much romanticized region. The sand and the wind seem to permeate the textured voices of Tuareg singers telling stories of ancient oases and modern lives amidst the harsh landscape. Instruments like the gimbri and rabab with their droning strings add to the magic of crackling cold evening air after the sweltering heat of day has subsided.
When these sounds migrate to Europe and beyond, the qualities that define the old ceremonies and celebrations have been transmuted and fused with modern beats from the African Diaspora. There is no better example of this thrilling mixture than the music of Amazigh Kateb, the son of the Algerian literary great Kateb Yacine who said that revolutionary writing "must transmit a living message, placing the public at the heart of a theater that partakes of the neverending combat opposing the proletariat to the bourgeoisie". Although my French is essentially non-existent, I gather that Amazigh Kateb uses his music in this same tradition to give a voice to the agents of political change.
I came to discover Amazigh -- whose name means "free man" in Tamazight -- via his now defunct band called Gnawa Diffusion, which specialized in blending the varied musical ingredients of Northwest Africa with reggae, funk, and hip-hop. Based out of Grenoble, France at the turn of the century, the Gnawa Diffusion mix is infectious and I can't seem to devote my full attention to much other music right now when the earbuds are in! Author Radu at BABE(B)LOGUE explains the roots of the band's name:
Find out more about Amazigh, Yancine Kateb, and Gnawa Diffusion:
Listen - hear Gnawa Diffusion and check out the discography
Listen - of course, Gnawa Diffusion on Myspace
Listen - interviews and music on Babel Cafe radio (sorry, Français only)
Read - a fine interview with Amazigh by Fayçal Chehat
Read - the entire Gnawa post by Radu at BABE(B)LOGUE
Watch - Amazigh Kateb & Safwane Kenani in a "green room" maybe
Explore - Amazigh Kateb's official site
In terms of music, I've always been enamored with the mystical sounds of this much romanticized region. The sand and the wind seem to permeate the textured voices of Tuareg singers telling stories of ancient oases and modern lives amidst the harsh landscape. Instruments like the gimbri and rabab with their droning strings add to the magic of crackling cold evening air after the sweltering heat of day has subsided.
Odd (but not that odd) to see a banjo amongst the legendary Nass El Ghiwane
When these sounds migrate to Europe and beyond, the qualities that define the old ceremonies and celebrations have been transmuted and fused with modern beats from the African Diaspora. There is no better example of this thrilling mixture than the music of Amazigh Kateb, the son of the Algerian literary great Kateb Yacine who said that revolutionary writing "must transmit a living message, placing the public at the heart of a theater that partakes of the neverending combat opposing the proletariat to the bourgeoisie". Although my French is essentially non-existent, I gather that Amazigh Kateb uses his music in this same tradition to give a voice to the agents of political change.
Making some kids smile with Gnawa Diffusion
The group's name is a reference to the Gnawa, a tribe from Western Sudan who were deported to North Africa in the 16th century by the rulers of Fes and Algiers. While the Gnawa were officially converted to Islam by their new masters, they continued to worship their own African gods in private. The way Gnawa Diffusion see it, this historic tale of people uprooted from their homeland and forced to begin a new life in a foreign land, is remarkably similar to the lives of modern-day immigrants growing up in France.Beyond hyper-relevant themes like immigration and equal rights, Amazigh's music is rhythmic, exotic yet accesible, and, as I've found, absolutely habit-forming, or at least that's been my case with the Gnawa Diffusion album titled Algeria (thanks, DCT!). Now that I'm hooked, I hope it's just the first step in long march of exploration into this region's music and all the cultural exchange that goes on in France.
Find out more about Amazigh, Yancine Kateb, and Gnawa Diffusion:
Listen - hear Gnawa Diffusion and check out the discography
Listen - of course, Gnawa Diffusion on Myspace
Listen - interviews and music on Babel Cafe radio (sorry, Français only)
Read - a fine interview with Amazigh by Fayçal Chehat
Read - the entire Gnawa post by Radu at BABE(B)LOGUE
Watch - Amazigh Kateb & Safwane Kenani in a "green room" maybe
Explore - Amazigh Kateb's official site
16.3.11
Brian Smith (of Odd Trio, Georgia Guitar Quartet) Speaks: "Daedalus" @ Canopy Studios
If you're listening to the news, it's hard to disagree with the sentiment found in Chinua Achebe's title for his 1958 masterpiece "Things Fall Apart". While all is in flux half a world away, in our own backyard musician and composer Brian Smith has been busy bringing worlds together with the premiere of his latest musical suite titled "Daedalus".
On Saturday, March 19th at 7pm and again on Sunday, March 20th at 3pm, Canopy Studio at the Chase Warehouses in Athens, GA will host a remarkable union of original music and gorgeous aerial artistry, joined under the vision of composer Brian Smith with his troupe of talented musicians (including wife-flutist-trapeze artist, Natalie Smith, members of Georgia Guitar Quartet, Odd Trio, Maps and Transit) and aerialists performing on trapeze, silks, hoops, even bellydancing!
Brian was kind enough to discuss "Daedalus", his inspirations and his process, in a recent interview:
AT: What was the inspiration for this particular suite of compositions? I know that the Greek myth is the central theme, but is there any other driving force or catalyst that led you to create this work? Does it help push you that not many people are doing this kind of avant-garde, chamber music performance in the indie-rock dominated landscape of Athens, GA? You're part of an impressive network of very talented musicians, and it's got to be exhilirating to join forces in this way.
BSmith: The inspiration for this work came about at the last Canopy show actually. Julie [Phillips] was performing a silks piece to a duet that I wrote for Natalie [Smith] and myself and the silks looked like wings and there was a big drop in the piece. It made me think of Icarus and I thought it would be neat to write a piece for Julie to perform based on Icarus. When rereading the Icarus story, however, I noticed that I felt more of a connection to Daedalus rather than Icarus. I really felt the tragedy of a father losing his child now that I’m a father as well. Also, Daedalus appears in so many other well known Greek myths and in most cases is the catalyst, so I thought it would be interesting to follow his story.
Here in Athens, there are so many great musicians doing so many great things, I feel like a drop in the bucket. I think everyone here pushes the envelope and blurs the lines of style and concept. It’s very inspiring to be immersed within such a place. As a composer, I feel like I just have to do what I do and hope someone likes it.
It’s absolutely exhilirating. I feel so lucky to be able to work with so many amazing musicians and aerialists and dancers and it’s even better to know that they are all good friends. It’s nice to have a reason to get all these folks together in one place. I like to think that I’m just creating a platform for all of these great artists to shine and have a good time making music.
AT: In previous discussions, you've mentioned mathematics and number theory -- like the Fibonacci Sequence that describes nature's spirals as in a sunflower -- as those relate to music. How do you use number theory to inspire your pieces, and are there particular rhythmic patterns that the audience can listen out for during the upcoming performances of "Daedalus" ?
BSmith: Absolutely. Over the past few years I’ve been developing my writing style using what I call “numerical symbology”. I got the idea from Carl Jung’s and Joseph Campbell’s idea of the collective unconscious, wherein universal archetypes are similarly expressed throughout human culture worldwide. Joseph Campbell discusses the idea of archetypes within world mythology characters and symbols. I think people have the same universal symbolic perception and experience about numbers, their shape, sound and meaning. I have tried to craft the pieces using some basic number symbols as well as more deeply hidden symbols for those who care to study the score more closely. I also think that there are certain musical mathematical symbols expressed in pitch, harmony and rhythm. Whether someone considers themselves “musical” or not does not matter in terms of their perception of these symbols. It is the people’s like or dislike of the music itself that illustrates the symbol’s success. With this work, I tried to pull many cords within people’s psyche. We’ll see if it come across.
AT: The Cretan labyrinth is part of the story of Daedelus. Is there any purposeful misdirection in the work, at all? Do you want the listener to feel a sense of confusion at any point on the way to a deeper resolution, that epiphany moment when the puzzle is solved?
BSmith: I found the labyrinth story of Daedalus to be the big connector of the entire story. In this work, the piece “Labyrinth” is the big connector of the work as a whole. The piece is subtitled “Puzzle Piece” and the piece itself is a big puzzle. If someone studies the score, the piece can be solved. I created 3 “tries”, basically 3 different scores, that help in solving the puzzle.
For the listener, there are big chunks missing in the piece and recognizable melodies arise that help determine the solution. The epiphany moments will perhaps come after the concert is over. All the pieces of the work draw from the “Labyrinth” and all the pieces lead to the “Labyrinth” in some way. It’s a cornerstone.
AT: Based on some of the main character's actions, I'm not sure he's such a friendly mythic hero. Are there certain melodic devices or key signatures that you prefer to use to depict that feeling of fleeting malice or impropriety? Not a nice Uncle, really!
BSmith: Actually, I felt like Daedalus was a sort of tragic hero, a very human figure. He’s also one of those characters that really undergoes a change over the course of his life and suffers greatly for the folly of his younger days. I think he really tries to do the right thing for the most part, but due to his past transgression with Perdix, he always seems to end up in tragic situations. But, he also helps a lot of people on the way, stands up against the wicked rule of King Minos, is respected at his craft and is well taken care of by the generosity of others. Overall, he’s quite a balanced figure symbolically. I use octaves to represent Daedalus as well as the key of b-flat. All the characters have their own musical gestures, pitches, intervals and keys. (i.e. - Icarus is chromatic falling gestures, the notes f and f#, 9ths and the key of F) As a dad, I think Daedalus does what he has to do in the given situation. Well aware of the risks, but without many options. Fatalistic, I guess.
AT: I realize that composition and arranging are arduous processes; are there modern tools that make the job a little less painstaking, or is it still a lot of sharpening the quill, mending holes in the parchment, cleaning up spilled ink and managing frustration, fending off mental illness? I know you know the image I'm drawing from: Amadeus, the scene with the cue ball on the billiards table, repetitvely banking off the cushions and back into Mozart's hand as he fervently scratches away at a masterpiece.
BSmith: Ha! Well, for me personally, I fret and stew and tweek and change pieces a lot before they get printed and I’m usually still making changes at rehearsals. I spend a lot of time in my head going over and over things. Probably get a little too obsessive at times. By the time I get to the computer, things move pretty fast. I like the speed of entering the music on the computer and I like not having to use a pencil or pen to make everything look pretty. I have poor penmanship and it hurts my hand to have to be that meticulous. I think all musicians stew over their work and are probably never completely satisfied. I think you just try to make each piece you write the best that it can be and when it’s time to let it go you have to let it go, warts and all.
Thanks to the composer for the insights that will make the experience of "Daedalus, a work by Brian Smith" all the richer. For more details about the two shows on March 19th and 20th at Canopy Studio, follow links below:
The MusicSmiths
Canopy Studio
Georgia Guitar Quartet
On Saturday, March 19th at 7pm and again on Sunday, March 20th at 3pm, Canopy Studio at the Chase Warehouses in Athens, GA will host a remarkable union of original music and gorgeous aerial artistry, joined under the vision of composer Brian Smith with his troupe of talented musicians (including wife-flutist-trapeze artist, Natalie Smith, members of Georgia Guitar Quartet, Odd Trio, Maps and Transit) and aerialists performing on trapeze, silks, hoops, even bellydancing!
Brian was kind enough to discuss "Daedalus", his inspirations and his process, in a recent interview:
AT: What was the inspiration for this particular suite of compositions? I know that the Greek myth is the central theme, but is there any other driving force or catalyst that led you to create this work? Does it help push you that not many people are doing this kind of avant-garde, chamber music performance in the indie-rock dominated landscape of Athens, GA? You're part of an impressive network of very talented musicians, and it's got to be exhilirating to join forces in this way.
BSmith: The inspiration for this work came about at the last Canopy show actually. Julie [Phillips] was performing a silks piece to a duet that I wrote for Natalie [Smith] and myself and the silks looked like wings and there was a big drop in the piece. It made me think of Icarus and I thought it would be neat to write a piece for Julie to perform based on Icarus. When rereading the Icarus story, however, I noticed that I felt more of a connection to Daedalus rather than Icarus. I really felt the tragedy of a father losing his child now that I’m a father as well. Also, Daedalus appears in so many other well known Greek myths and in most cases is the catalyst, so I thought it would be interesting to follow his story.
Here in Athens, there are so many great musicians doing so many great things, I feel like a drop in the bucket. I think everyone here pushes the envelope and blurs the lines of style and concept. It’s very inspiring to be immersed within such a place. As a composer, I feel like I just have to do what I do and hope someone likes it.
It’s absolutely exhilirating. I feel so lucky to be able to work with so many amazing musicians and aerialists and dancers and it’s even better to know that they are all good friends. It’s nice to have a reason to get all these folks together in one place. I like to think that I’m just creating a platform for all of these great artists to shine and have a good time making music.
AT: In previous discussions, you've mentioned mathematics and number theory -- like the Fibonacci Sequence that describes nature's spirals as in a sunflower -- as those relate to music. How do you use number theory to inspire your pieces, and are there particular rhythmic patterns that the audience can listen out for during the upcoming performances of "Daedalus" ?
BSmith: Absolutely. Over the past few years I’ve been developing my writing style using what I call “numerical symbology”. I got the idea from Carl Jung’s and Joseph Campbell’s idea of the collective unconscious, wherein universal archetypes are similarly expressed throughout human culture worldwide. Joseph Campbell discusses the idea of archetypes within world mythology characters and symbols. I think people have the same universal symbolic perception and experience about numbers, their shape, sound and meaning. I have tried to craft the pieces using some basic number symbols as well as more deeply hidden symbols for those who care to study the score more closely. I also think that there are certain musical mathematical symbols expressed in pitch, harmony and rhythm. Whether someone considers themselves “musical” or not does not matter in terms of their perception of these symbols. It is the people’s like or dislike of the music itself that illustrates the symbol’s success. With this work, I tried to pull many cords within people’s psyche. We’ll see if it come across.
AT: The Cretan labyrinth is part of the story of Daedelus. Is there any purposeful misdirection in the work, at all? Do you want the listener to feel a sense of confusion at any point on the way to a deeper resolution, that epiphany moment when the puzzle is solved?
BSmith: I found the labyrinth story of Daedalus to be the big connector of the entire story. In this work, the piece “Labyrinth” is the big connector of the work as a whole. The piece is subtitled “Puzzle Piece” and the piece itself is a big puzzle. If someone studies the score, the piece can be solved. I created 3 “tries”, basically 3 different scores, that help in solving the puzzle.
For the listener, there are big chunks missing in the piece and recognizable melodies arise that help determine the solution. The epiphany moments will perhaps come after the concert is over. All the pieces of the work draw from the “Labyrinth” and all the pieces lead to the “Labyrinth” in some way. It’s a cornerstone.
AT: Based on some of the main character's actions, I'm not sure he's such a friendly mythic hero. Are there certain melodic devices or key signatures that you prefer to use to depict that feeling of fleeting malice or impropriety? Not a nice Uncle, really!
BSmith: Actually, I felt like Daedalus was a sort of tragic hero, a very human figure. He’s also one of those characters that really undergoes a change over the course of his life and suffers greatly for the folly of his younger days. I think he really tries to do the right thing for the most part, but due to his past transgression with Perdix, he always seems to end up in tragic situations. But, he also helps a lot of people on the way, stands up against the wicked rule of King Minos, is respected at his craft and is well taken care of by the generosity of others. Overall, he’s quite a balanced figure symbolically. I use octaves to represent Daedalus as well as the key of b-flat. All the characters have their own musical gestures, pitches, intervals and keys. (i.e. - Icarus is chromatic falling gestures, the notes f and f#, 9ths and the key of F) As a dad, I think Daedalus does what he has to do in the given situation. Well aware of the risks, but without many options. Fatalistic, I guess.
AT: I realize that composition and arranging are arduous processes; are there modern tools that make the job a little less painstaking, or is it still a lot of sharpening the quill, mending holes in the parchment, cleaning up spilled ink and managing frustration, fending off mental illness? I know you know the image I'm drawing from: Amadeus, the scene with the cue ball on the billiards table, repetitvely banking off the cushions and back into Mozart's hand as he fervently scratches away at a masterpiece.
BSmith: Ha! Well, for me personally, I fret and stew and tweek and change pieces a lot before they get printed and I’m usually still making changes at rehearsals. I spend a lot of time in my head going over and over things. Probably get a little too obsessive at times. By the time I get to the computer, things move pretty fast. I like the speed of entering the music on the computer and I like not having to use a pencil or pen to make everything look pretty. I have poor penmanship and it hurts my hand to have to be that meticulous. I think all musicians stew over their work and are probably never completely satisfied. I think you just try to make each piece you write the best that it can be and when it’s time to let it go you have to let it go, warts and all.
Thanks to the composer for the insights that will make the experience of "Daedalus, a work by Brian Smith" all the richer. For more details about the two shows on March 19th and 20th at Canopy Studio, follow links below:
The MusicSmiths
Canopy Studio
Georgia Guitar Quartet
10.3.11
Afro Soul Descarga
Sometimes a virtual discovery can feel as real as any record store find. Today I found a bevy of radio sets from Afro Soul Descarga. It's cool that the D.J. -- James Stewart of RAJE in France -- is able to share the whole playlist so easily via Soundcloud waveform. Set # 10, below, is two hours of rare music, most of which you wouldn't find elsewhere.
Standout tracks:
Part 1 - track 6. (37:20) Segun Bucknor plays "La La La Acoustic" with some pretty wild organ sounds from Nigeria.
Part 2 - track 9. (101:00) Sun Ra's "Nuclear War" is a classic anti-proliferation anthem: "If they push that button, your ass gotta go...watcha gonna do without your ass?" Good question.
Part 2 - track 10. (110:35) These four or five poems by Langston Hughes with punctuation by Charlie Mingus and co. are real swell, too. Said Hughes, "Dig and be dug in return."
Just to be fair -- for DJ gigs/ pour les soirées contact James : dimensionmusiques@gmail.com
For the full track listing and so much more music: afrosouldescarga.blogspot.com
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