three drops of blood installment vi
braved pride weekend traffic with maria jose to see nanos operetta, kunst-stoff, et. al.
five acts:
one: nanos operetta does spanish/arabian influenced chamber multi-instrumentalism, for the first time in my experience with a vocalist (front man ali tabatabaei, no relation to mr. sigma-delta). i love when he sings in arabic, is it? so-so in english. i don't want to understand his words, banal and profane. dig that translation into english though: "my lips warm her breasts, my hands please her thighs...though all the whores may call me by my name / I love her more than the famished love rain" banjo played flamenco style particularly shone. other highlights: marimbist using a bow (a hackneyed trick, but it still gets me everytime), bass clarinet (i don't care what you play on that instrument, random notes sustained indefinitely will do well enough), chinese fiddle taking the lead-out decaying sweetly like a bumblebee flying off into the horizon.
two: myra melford & fay simpson, how on earth did these two get on the program? myra played what appeared to be some kind of mechanically controlled mic'ed farfisa with a delay processor via laptop. snore. who hasn't done the delay processor thing by now, it wasn't even that great in the beginning. fay simpson does some kind of frustrated victorian housewife "dance" routine which makes us all embarrassed for her. maria jose's comment on the congratulatory whistles heard after they finished: "some of her friends must have been in the audience."
three: kunst-stoff, well, kara davis anyway, and guest performer brett conway of lines ballet. these dancers never fail to astonish me. breathtaking. neo-romanticism, while not exactly welcome in my book in the context of music, still works perfectly in dance performance. i want to see a seduction and love affair portrayed on stage, and they never let me down. their movement is so perfectly consonant (in proportion to the dissonance of fay simpson). elegant black dress carried the neo-romantic mood. spanish flamenco-influenced relative of the lute accompanying. the influence of ballet in unmistakeable. well, but you might think its influence discernable in all dance forms. not so! miniature pas-de-deux at the end brought a sole tear creeping down my cheek.
four: chepikov string quartet perform quasi tango etc. their attire sure was tango, i didn't care if the music fit the bill however. sometimes too much neo-romantic (vibrato), but the cello and viola made up for it. spanish/arabian tonalities throughout, evidently the theme tonight. the string quartet is a timeless medium.
five: nanos operetta again, accompanied by myra melford and butoh artist ledoh. electric guitar joins the mix this time, mostly rhythmic bass so completely unobtrusive. would have liked to have heard it more. i can't write anything about butoh that hasn't been written better elsewhere, to me it seems like a quintessential japanese post-wwii art form, preoccupied with nameless tragedy. music reflected this beautifully, so probably not too far off the mark.
on the way back to the car, unmistakeable odor of fresh baked goods on the florida st. sidewalk causes both of us to do a double-take. all attempts to discover the source of said odor foiled. descended from the heavens like the dances of angels.
circuitous return route via duboce/14th/roosevelt, it's not that we have no pride, just not keen on expressing any more of it.
five acts:
one: nanos operetta does spanish/arabian influenced chamber multi-instrumentalism, for the first time in my experience with a vocalist (front man ali tabatabaei, no relation to mr. sigma-delta). i love when he sings in arabic, is it? so-so in english. i don't want to understand his words, banal and profane. dig that translation into english though: "my lips warm her breasts, my hands please her thighs...though all the whores may call me by my name / I love her more than the famished love rain" banjo played flamenco style particularly shone. other highlights: marimbist using a bow (a hackneyed trick, but it still gets me everytime), bass clarinet (i don't care what you play on that instrument, random notes sustained indefinitely will do well enough), chinese fiddle taking the lead-out decaying sweetly like a bumblebee flying off into the horizon.
two: myra melford & fay simpson, how on earth did these two get on the program? myra played what appeared to be some kind of mechanically controlled mic'ed farfisa with a delay processor via laptop. snore. who hasn't done the delay processor thing by now, it wasn't even that great in the beginning. fay simpson does some kind of frustrated victorian housewife "dance" routine which makes us all embarrassed for her. maria jose's comment on the congratulatory whistles heard after they finished: "some of her friends must have been in the audience."
three: kunst-stoff, well, kara davis anyway, and guest performer brett conway of lines ballet. these dancers never fail to astonish me. breathtaking. neo-romanticism, while not exactly welcome in my book in the context of music, still works perfectly in dance performance. i want to see a seduction and love affair portrayed on stage, and they never let me down. their movement is so perfectly consonant (in proportion to the dissonance of fay simpson). elegant black dress carried the neo-romantic mood. spanish flamenco-influenced relative of the lute accompanying. the influence of ballet in unmistakeable. well, but you might think its influence discernable in all dance forms. not so! miniature pas-de-deux at the end brought a sole tear creeping down my cheek.
four: chepikov string quartet perform quasi tango etc. their attire sure was tango, i didn't care if the music fit the bill however. sometimes too much neo-romantic (vibrato), but the cello and viola made up for it. spanish/arabian tonalities throughout, evidently the theme tonight. the string quartet is a timeless medium.
five: nanos operetta again, accompanied by myra melford and butoh artist ledoh. electric guitar joins the mix this time, mostly rhythmic bass so completely unobtrusive. would have liked to have heard it more. i can't write anything about butoh that hasn't been written better elsewhere, to me it seems like a quintessential japanese post-wwii art form, preoccupied with nameless tragedy. music reflected this beautifully, so probably not too far off the mark.
on the way back to the car, unmistakeable odor of fresh baked goods on the florida st. sidewalk causes both of us to do a double-take. all attempts to discover the source of said odor foiled. descended from the heavens like the dances of angels.
circuitous return route via duboce/14th/roosevelt, it's not that we have no pride, just not keen on expressing any more of it.