Red Rain is pouring down

As my consciousness keeps watching an extreme individualisation even collective efforts are being held all over different channels, this is not the main theme of the current thoughts, although I want to get deeper into it, it’s time to talk about the opposite. Coincidences are nothing but merely events that collide involuntary, we could stick attributes in an attempt of understanding or an attempt of placing our own being at higher instances, both of them satisfy mind and soul, as enjoying the moment, as keeping mind open, perhaps on the air, so it can be taken up to new boundaries. So, events, one is exposed to fulfil mind and there is where truly inspiration arise, specially when they come as a set, formed of different kind of expressions, they are experienced and lived, senses are eager to listen, to watch and feel, they are gathered in our own soul for a review and recall for the original feeling and how it can evolve as they coincide with what you have seen. Value the experience, live the moment and create new ones, that’s where coincidences may be generated.

Nu solen går ned

A few weeks ago, Nordic voices sang at the centre of and old building’s courtyard, they move all over the place filling the whole space with different tones, a combination of three incredible voices telling ancient folk Norwegian stories. As is said over there, a song can be known not through their original author but through the current interpreter, this is said to be etter. That interpretation, those actual voices are the ones to be stored in memory, that instance of the songs and music, which was simple but powerful enough to haunt the whole place. The way the three voices adopted a role in each piece of the night showed the advanced integration they have, from performing a subtle background to a very high tone, to a playful movement with big diapasons  which made a good companion to those voices. The highest point in the evening was when the voices travel from different positions of the courtyard to finally meet at the centre, around a fountain,you could feel how each voices was getting closer, so they could rise together once they were face to face.

The Rhythm of the Heat

The end of the month was near, so it was the end of the “Small Place” Tour performed by Peter Gabriel at Mexico City. As many of you know, it has been the most influential musician in my life, so this show was long awaited since it was announced last December. The streets to get there were too crowded, as it was expected not because of the show, it is the normal traffic in this city at those hours, the show itself didn’t reached it’s maximum capacity but that’s not so important. Once over there, lights were down and the ambience was set by Zaar, part of the Passion soundtrack. Just to begin with a powerful drum, a beat inviting to just forget about anything and get carried by the music, with uncertainty in our self conscious. Some favourite ones such as the start with that Rhythm of the Heat, Blood of Eden, Darkness, Secret World, In Your Eyes and of course Biko. Each one of those were really really special, haunted by visual effects and the music performed by such a great band joining PG. Unforgettable night watching images move and deeply moved by each song. Once in a while a look at the dark night, loosing into dreams, loosing into illusions, tears were close, for me… the most emotive show I’ve ever been.

There were new arrangements for very old songs, a reinvention of himself. San Jacinto was one that surprised me, two big eyes, eagle or owl, emerged from the darkness, pledging for holding the line, for growing, for endurance, really impressive. Incredible voice, I still shivers on some of the songs performed that night. During Blood of Eden, well… images again were deep, I couldn’t keep my sight away of them, portraying human psychology. When Secret World was played, well… nothing but to listen.

Curiously I read a note in the newspaper about how PG’s personal image was not about a “rocker” guy, such a hollow note, besides re-stating the decadence of the current newspaper. Just to hear Signal to Noise, Darkness or The Tower That Ate People or the way old songs were played as well as how the show was arranged carrying a defined structure,  only shows a great artist with not only a unique style but with great diversity to show. Deep, intelligent, with great musicians. The great Tony Levin and his bass, another one with extreme talent and a long time PG’s partner, very good combination along with David Rhodes. Ged Lynch at drums, excellent, powerful when it was needed, Melanie, PG’s daughter in vocals, Richard Evans, another one with so many trick s under the sleeve with each instrument he touches and a new one Angie Pollock at keyboards, each one of them very good to set an emotive atmosphere.

A night of memories, a night of long travelling back since 2002 when I had the chance of seeing him for my first time, this night was outstanding, full of colour, full of emotions and again… thoughts and memories. It couldn’t end in a better way than with a candle, not only for Steve Biko, but for all the world, song began with PG and was passed to the audience, last shouts were and should be done by us… an excellent picture of the grand finale…

“You can blow out a candle
But you can’t blow out a fire
Once the flames begin to catch
The wind will blow it higher”

(this was a very very late post, but anyway… i couldn’t miss it, and sorry for the long post )

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How to disappear completely…

Two inspiring days one after the other… Placed under special circumstances… First the spoke of the universe… Round and round… In a surround of percussions which echoed in the middle of darkness… Bouncing sounds all over volcanic stone… Little hits in a very low key… Beginning at one side travelling in circles wrapping mind over it’s own deep thoughts, either you closed your eyes or you stare at the night sky, little spots of light could be perceived what a better sign of being outside this world. Pulsars then began to interact with each hit on the drums and the cymbals, as is stated the maximum recurrence between cycles is about 1.3 seconds so you could imagine the images and notes overlapping. In the end a single voice, so simple, so daunting true echo like a true gyroscope spinning and through the air expanding the waves toward mind, cycle after cycle, spin after spin until the eternal recurrence is broken in pieces,  six sides of the circle, six stages to travel through, percussions sets to begin your own pulsar. Past was in front, until the recurrence is over until your sight chooses the next platform, the next percussion set, at your own rhythm and your own mind. Time to travel in space and time always remember that ancient call which set you free.

After that, at sight, a rainbow so colourful that easily became all you needed. I must confess I didn’t expect such an astonishing set of lights and songs from first to last. When I heard before expressions of people who came to the first show, I thought there were overreactions but what a nice surprise to feel exactly the way it was expressed, in such a beautiful show. Lyrics and music Radiohead played reaching several interesting states of mind. As a drums fan I was hypnotized by some of those beats powerful enough to let mind travel, a night full of surprises some could state logic acted and some of them were expected  the unexpected. Reality as the present moment, with or without logic it doesn’t matter not even a little, what happened in there, at the right time where some songs began was for real, rumors were not what shaped those songs as they were part of the infinite possibilities. Listening carefully, listening each word each piece of music specially Videotape and the one who entitled this post, were moments I enjoyed and would repeat in my mind for days, for sure they will be held as a very special evening in company of true friends, what else could you ask for, i just enjoyed the whole event, lost in each beat… Those acrylic tubes hanging from the top created also a special atmosphere, relying on the light distortion to see through the stage just to help mental imagery to be forged under captivity, before highly emotional content that was the main part… Great emotions felt, great emotions to share… Some classics, some ongoing classics and some hidden songs for some time were the main ingredients for a great Radiohead concert. Great way to finish another really inspiring evening, i can still hear many of the songs played, the way they were played, what was on my mind as well as stranger’s and friends reactions, i guess part of the legends series… the way to be remembered…

Now I’m ready to disappear completely…

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Esto no es poesía…

La semana pasada, hubo un Aviso Especial, avisos sobre en las voces que se alzan con opiniones y posturas inquebrantables dejando de lado cualquier intento de diálogo. El caso concreto, el arte, ¿cómo debe ser? ¿qué lo forma? Posturas que son guardadas celosamente, dignas de batallas campales que si la técnica, que si la intención, que si esto, aquello, no dejan de ser posturas de quienes se dicen expertos en la materia, para el caso esto aplica en casi cualquier ámbito. La incapacidad del diálogo, hasta parece la forma tradicional en la que se lleva el mundo, cosa de todos los días el encierro que cada quien determina para aislarse y no dejar que se perjudique de cierta forma la comodidad en la que nos hemos establecido. Esta estética de todos los días, bajo principios que alguien más construyó y que aprendemos, son un buen acercamiento. Ellos mismos nos han llevado a conocer grandes obras que han cambiado paradigmas, pero tomarlos como estandartes definitivos, pensando que el lienzo ha sido completado, nos lleva a mantener ese futuro que alguna vez fue modificado como si fuera una constante.

El aviso especial consistió en este caso, acerca de una discusión que marcaría el verdadero contenido, visiones del mundo, donde se planteaban dos posibilidades,  el enfoque que afirmaba funciones únicas, generales y universales del arte. Todo esto encasillado en una estética definida de la cual pareciera que no hubiera cupo para otra cosa más que observar y alejar al espectador de la obra en si, pactar límites y asumir la posición del creador de manera religiosa por sobre las cosas, siendo inaccesible, buscando auto-realizarse através de esa distancia.

Por otro lado, aparecería de forma humilde una voz que plantearía el objetivo muy claro, las palabras fueron simples, sin mayor pretensión ni complejo. No se trata de plantear una función que bien pudiera estar escrita en algún manual o en algún libro, el tiempo mismo es el proceso de asimilación, de estructuración y de contemplación, se trata de buscar en las obras cierto momento presente, conteniendo su significado en la misma ontología de quien observa. El ser parte de la obra permite el cambio constante, el ser parte de lo que se quiso decir al aportar nuestra propia historia al propósito de quien creo, se forma un diálogo y es entonces cuando podemos hablar de poesía, no antes, no sin tomar en cuenta todo el sistema e incluso al final… el resultado puede no ser el esperado.

Desde un inicio ciertamente, esto no es poesía, la forma en la que se intercalan desde las palabras hasta las disciplinas es lo que en el último de los casos dará forma a eso que llamamos estética, el proceso por el cual nos convertirnos en fines cada uno de nosotros como bien decía Kant. Curiosamente hace poco leía un artículo donde se establecía la falta de validez en las medidas puramente numéricas, buscando describir realidades a medias, quedándose cortas con aquellos puntos de interpretación social. Hace falta dejar ese puesto de creador que tanto nos aísla y buscar como es que el proceso es arriesgar, dejar definiciones que la razón ya ha generalizado, cómo bien Borges lo ha expuesto en su personaje Funes. Por lo pronto fue una experiencia diferente la forma de crear, dialogar, discutir y ver a los dioses empeñarse en querer hacer sólo un tipo poesía y presentarla como tal, cuidando que se cumplieran los prejuicios perfectos.

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