Happy New Year 2012 to all of my beloved friends! 2011 was a year of magic and wonder, with little Aki coming to our lives. May this happiness spread, grow and pervade every day of the new year.
2011 FAVS on youtube
Happy New Year 2012 to all of my beloved friends! 2011 was a year of magic and wonder, with little Aki coming to our lives. May this happiness spread, grow and pervade every day of the new year.
2011 FAVS on youtube
Days
What are days for?
Days are where we live.
They come, they wake us
Time and time over.
They are to be happy in:
Where can we live but days?
Ah, solving that question
Brings the priest and the doctor
In their long coats
Running over the fields.
(out of nowhere, remembering J.A. at the Saitama dorm)
I have a thousand brilliant lies
For the question:
How are you?
I have a thousand brilliant lies
For the question:
What is God?
If you think that the Truth can be known
From words,
If you think that the Sun and the Ocean
Can pass through that tiny opening Called the mouth,
O someone should start laughing!
Someone should start wildly Laughing –Now!
From “I Heard God Laughing: Renderings of Hafiz” translated by Daniel Ladinsky
source
(Que los Dioses nos acompañen, que empezó otro ciclo solar)

3 artistas sonoros con importantes trayectorias y altísima calidad se reunirán esta noche en una sesión de arte sonoro en vivo sin precedentes: Jorge Bachmann aka [ruidobello], Ricardo Arias y David Vélez . Los tres son, cada uno a su particular manera, como alquimistas sonoros que producen las texturas y atmósferas más delicadas (o ásperas) a partir de los sonidos más simples: el viento, la superficie de un globo, la síntesis de una onda. Yo los estaré acompañando con pequeñas intervenciones con la voz. Tendremos además una sesión de improvisación, bajo el mando de Jefferson Rosas.
(Si llueve, escucharemos atentos al sonido del agua golpeando nuestra fría ciudad).
La Internacional Ruidista
arte sonoro en vivo
a partir de las 6:00p.m.
Galería Valenzuela Klenner (patio)
Carrera 5 # 26-28 Bogotá, Colombia
Entrada libre
I needed a tape for the sound workshop we just did in this amazing hacienda in the lush coffee region of Colombia. So I grabbed a couple of used ones I could record on, and headed to this place on a 9 hours bus ride through the most dangerously curved road ever, ironically called La Línea (the line). I was bored and scared, which is a curious mix of feelings. So I decided to check one of the tapes out. It was decorated with a handwritten imitation of the typography on the original CD it was recorded from. It was The Cure’s “Kiss me kiss me kiss me”. I think I hadn’t listened to that album, and to The Cure for that matter, for more than 15 years. Yes, I’m old. Anyway, the hair on my neck (I’m not THAT hairy) was standing up, suspended as I listened to songs like “How beautiful you are”, “If only tonight we could sleep” and “Like cockatoos”. Especially those three. It was probably the songs bringing back memories, as they say. But no. I hated being a teenager, so why feeling thrilled? it certainly is a pleasure to recognize melodies, textures and to understand the lyrics. But to that extent? In the book “This is your brain on music”, Daniel Levitin, among many other interesting explanations, says that we become emotionally attached to the music we listen to as we grow up and configure our personality, so it may be only natural to feel the way I felt. I listened to The Cure until I couldn’t bear it. I kissed repeatedly (obediently) the giant Robert Smith poster I had in my room. I new all the lyrics although understood only half of what they said. I danced, sang and cried to their songs. I was such a fan I had to stop listening to their music at all, like an addict giving up for good. I had to make room in my brain for new music and I also decided The Cure was not good after the “Disintegration” album and moved on. Years passed.
Then maybe what I felt on the bus ride wasn’t mere recognition or emotional attachment. Maybe their music WAS good, after all. So good it made me feel again (and again and again) that weird mixture of sadness and joy, so many years later, no longer scared and bored.
Con Adriana García Galán daremos una serie de talleres alrededor del sonido para no-músicos y músicos, en la Residencia en la Tierra, el fin de semana del 14 al 16 de agosto, 2010. Habrá taller de luthier de jardín, de partituras, field-recordings, noche de canciones y más. ¡Es un poco lejos pero creemos que el lugar bien vale la pena el viaje!
Para mayores informes visite: ResidenciaEnLaTierra.org
John Lurie sufre una enfermedad por la cual no soporta el sonido de la música. Para cualquier ser humano es una grave enfermedad. Para un músico de su talla podría ser una tragedia. Pero en cambio se puso a pintar. Si el mundo pierde a un músico pero gana estas imágenes, quizás el Universo en su misteriosa justicia esté regalándonos algo delicioso. En su sitio/sello disquero/galería encuentra uno luminosos milagros, como la bellísima música del “legendario Marvin Pontiac” y muestras de sus dibujos, que nos recuerdan asuntos que están mucho más atrás, allá donde la luz resuena y las canciones calientan el corazón.