29 April 2017

Unusual voices 2: Esma Redžepova

Esma Redžepova's voice has made many incisions in people's hearts, including mine. Yet it has also healed; I can think of few things more cathartic than this song, despite not understanding any of the lyrics.

It makes me think of  the theorist Cathy Caruth's article on 'the wound and the voice', which is sort of too long and convoluted to summarise here, but her description of the way in which the voice seems to erupt from traumatic wounds seems particularly relevant here.  I've thought over the years that maybe my perception on instrumental and particularly vocal performance is quite sadistic -- I really think that performance should be suffered, not really enjoyed. Redžepova doesn't sound like she loves the sound of her own voice. Whereas the prerequisite for a 'great singer', particularly in the popular Western tradition, is often that they must sound as though they love the sound of their own voice. 

Personally I much prefer Redžepova and her cutting, pain-ridden delivery.


22 April 2017

When the mesmerising intro turns into something all too normal...

The intro to this song seems to lead into some kind of unknown world and then it just becomes... well.. I'll leave you to judge.

Anyway -- this intro reminds me a bit of Cascading Slopes ,in the best way possible.




21 April 2017

Unusual voices 1: Karen Dalton

In order to expand my horizons as far as singing and voices are concerned, I'm starting a feature called Unusual Voices. And the first choice is Karen Dalton, a Cherokee blues/folk singer with a completely one-of-a-kind voice which, according to one listener, 'sounds like a trumpet.'

It made me want to sound like a trumpet too, or at least to make my voice not sound like a voice...







9 April 2017

'The planet is ill'

One of my friends said that to me the other day, and I agree. Although I think it's not so much that the planet is ill but that some people are sick in the head.

It is all the more important, during these times, to feel some kind of healing influence which can pacify the world's treachery for a while. So I'm going to turn to Blood Orange, and particularly to Augustine... No really -- is it possible to listen to the chorus, or the bridge, and not to feel like the world might not be doomed after all? These are Dev Hynes' melodies and harmonies at their most heavenly.


Also  -- the way the video begins with a different song altogether, which is much more mellow and much less heart-rending, and then it's almost as if someone's like 'Scratch that, I'm going to dive into the very depths of melancholy.' And then it goes on and dives...

11 March 2017

Higher Than the Rainbow, 1986

The film that made me want to be a boy soprano, be good at high jump, and travel to wonderful places...





4 March 2017

Schlieren Optics

Well this sure looks interesting...

'the visualisation of the flow of fluids of varying density...'


2 March 2017

Blinded by sight



The BFI did a Jordan Belson retrospective this Tuesday, screening around a dozen of his films after a brief talk by Center for Visual Music curator and director Cindy Keefer, who explained some details of the time-consuming and expensive process that is still ongoing in the restoration of Belson's work.

Having watched fewer films than the average person during my life, I find myself very easily overwhelmed in the cinema. Almost anything can send me over the edge -- I hesitate to watch anything with even an age-rating of 15. But what shocked me with regard to Jordan Belson's films was of course not violent or explicit content, but rather the sheer vividness of the whole experience. The worlds he creates are liminal to the extreme; they seem to be forever shifting between spaces, between boundaries of colour, form, light.. These worlds are  at times three-dimensional, but these three dimensions are such that one can never quite understand one's location within them. They're almost like that vertiginous and uncanny world of illness; space shifts incessantly and colour seems almost invasive.

What shocked me above all, though, was the sensation that what I saw had a layer behind it, and another layer behind that -- an endless sequence of layers which are all visible through each other. This happens in Allures, Music of the Spheres and Samadhi, a film which is inspired by the concept of Buddhist meditation. 

That, and the sensation that scale in Belson's films frequently moves from the macrocosmic to the microscopic; in Allures,  a majestic and ostensibly extra-terrestrial object morphs into the figure of an atom, as Belson pushes forcefully at the limits of what the human eye can see -- nothing is too vast, or too minute, for representation. 

Outer space and the atom have already been seen by human eyes, and indeed Belson's work cannot and should not be limited to its link with 'the world out there' : rather its originality and singularity lie in his unprecedented visualisation of internal and psychological worlds teeming with lucid abstractions that surprise, shock, and revitalise. His films may be creations as powerful as the microscope and the telescope; they blind with newly-discovered sight.