There are moments in life when the thought 'gosh, life is good' creeps into mind.
I had encountered such moments over the weekend - at Joanna Newsom's concert, then at Aphex Twin's.
Musically, and in stage persona, they can't be more different. They were both sublime.
Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts
March 21, 2011
December 13, 2010
A Passage of Madness/The Observatory
Mind-blowing, incredible, magnificent, experience of a lifetime... none of these can describe how I felt at this low-key event: the screening of A Passage of Madness, an avant-garde silent film made in 1926, lost soon after its completion and only found some 50 years later by its director. Without any inter-titles, the story was not the easiest to follow, but its decors, styles and performances are certainly the most experimental and ahead of its time, which reminisces that of the German surrealist cinema of the 1920s at the height of its power.
The film, mythical and challenging on its own right, served most of the time as a visual backdrop for the soundtrack composed and performed live by The Observatory in a small auditorium that holds about 500 audience. The musical performance started approximately 5 minutes prior to the start of screening, creating and building up an atmosphere, and transporting the audience to a misty, dark and isolated place not too different from those of the classic Chinese ink painting of the rocky mountain partially obscured by the cloud sea. Then as the story evolved, it became blurred as to who was the actual star of the night: the man who was trying to rescue his wife in a madhouse and being ridiculed by her inmates/doctors; the director who had been most adventurous in his styles of filming and representation; or the music that seemed to be part and parcel an organic part of the narration - albeit composed some 84 years after the shooting! For those like myself who had not had the slightest knowledge of what the film was about prior to the screening, it was largely the music that had guided me through the viewing of a silent film without subtitles. My mind was only drifted once or twice away when I was struck by the fact how marvelous the composition was and that how lucky I was to be one of the privileged few in the audience. In an interview published on Today two days before the screening, the band commented that this film had allowed them to explore the boundary of insanity, but their fans should still be able to recognise them in the soundtrack. While this is absolutely true, I would add that it had taken the indie band far well beyond their 'normal' soundscape into that of experimental and avant-garde. The soundtrack was imaginative, atmospheric, powerful and compared well with the best in the world in similar genre.
The screening and musical event, commissioned and organised by the National Museum of Singapore, has got to be one of the highlights, if not the highlight, of the Singapore art scene of recent years. It says how much Singapore can achieve if it puts its mind to it. It would be a great loss if the event was live recorded, and even worse, if the soundtrack is not recorded for the benefit of the general public.
Life is good when witnessing the performance of a lifetime.
The film, mythical and challenging on its own right, served most of the time as a visual backdrop for the soundtrack composed and performed live by The Observatory in a small auditorium that holds about 500 audience. The musical performance started approximately 5 minutes prior to the start of screening, creating and building up an atmosphere, and transporting the audience to a misty, dark and isolated place not too different from those of the classic Chinese ink painting of the rocky mountain partially obscured by the cloud sea. Then as the story evolved, it became blurred as to who was the actual star of the night: the man who was trying to rescue his wife in a madhouse and being ridiculed by her inmates/doctors; the director who had been most adventurous in his styles of filming and representation; or the music that seemed to be part and parcel an organic part of the narration - albeit composed some 84 years after the shooting! For those like myself who had not had the slightest knowledge of what the film was about prior to the screening, it was largely the music that had guided me through the viewing of a silent film without subtitles. My mind was only drifted once or twice away when I was struck by the fact how marvelous the composition was and that how lucky I was to be one of the privileged few in the audience. In an interview published on Today two days before the screening, the band commented that this film had allowed them to explore the boundary of insanity, but their fans should still be able to recognise them in the soundtrack. While this is absolutely true, I would add that it had taken the indie band far well beyond their 'normal' soundscape into that of experimental and avant-garde. The soundtrack was imaginative, atmospheric, powerful and compared well with the best in the world in similar genre.
The screening and musical event, commissioned and organised by the National Museum of Singapore, has got to be one of the highlights, if not the highlight, of the Singapore art scene of recent years. It says how much Singapore can achieve if it puts its mind to it. It would be a great loss if the event was live recorded, and even worse, if the soundtrack is not recorded for the benefit of the general public.
Life is good when witnessing the performance of a lifetime.
January 05, 2010
Ravi Shanker
My music library used to boast more than two dozen albums from India, most of which by the Indian sitar 'guru' Ravi Shanker, but because they sounded identical to me, I had volunteered to give them all up.
I was reading the autobiography of him last week, and finding it difficult to decide whether he is an imposter or a real genius, I suddenly missed my Indian music collection. I suppose for an layman of Indian music, there is bound to be queries of how to judge such a 'guru' whose fame has spread to even people who do not listen to much music apart from pop. The only item that I could find that was vaguely related to him was the Concert for George, whose the fist album of the 2-CD collection was dedicated to the ensemble led by Ravi Shanker. By then over 82, his only contribution seemed the utterance that 'I strongly feel that George was with us... I mean how can he not be while those who love him gather together here tonight'... In his place was both his daughter and his wife, with the former acting in the leading role.
The style of the writing is rather diffferent from what I am familiar with and have expected. To him it seemed that the only things worth saying on someone is whether or not s/he was 'nice'... And despite the fact that in the foreword he had already made it clear the book only represented his points of view as honest as it could be, it was hard pressed to say that I can trust him after reading the book, especially on his private life.
Overall, this is a challenge. Both because I hardly know Indian culture, let alone its music, and because this is such a complicated character...
I was reading the autobiography of him last week, and finding it difficult to decide whether he is an imposter or a real genius, I suddenly missed my Indian music collection. I suppose for an layman of Indian music, there is bound to be queries of how to judge such a 'guru' whose fame has spread to even people who do not listen to much music apart from pop. The only item that I could find that was vaguely related to him was the Concert for George, whose the fist album of the 2-CD collection was dedicated to the ensemble led by Ravi Shanker. By then over 82, his only contribution seemed the utterance that 'I strongly feel that George was with us... I mean how can he not be while those who love him gather together here tonight'... In his place was both his daughter and his wife, with the former acting in the leading role.
The style of the writing is rather diffferent from what I am familiar with and have expected. To him it seemed that the only things worth saying on someone is whether or not s/he was 'nice'... And despite the fact that in the foreword he had already made it clear the book only represented his points of view as honest as it could be, it was hard pressed to say that I can trust him after reading the book, especially on his private life.
Overall, this is a challenge. Both because I hardly know Indian culture, let alone its music, and because this is such a complicated character...
August 17, 2009
The last man that knows you
It is less than two minutes long and there is just one phrase which is repeated in chorus many a time: the last man that knows you. I was hooked by this debut album from Beyond when I first heard it back in the early 1990s, and now it still sounds as fresh as it ever was.
The album was in fact a self-financed demo album from the pop band from Hong Kong. I have never heard anything so raw yet so charming and powerful from that territory since. The energy and the drive is not uncommon in the debut albums of some of the most successful bands. The album is named Goodbye Idealism and how sad this seemed to be exactly what they had to do in their pursue for survival and success in Hong Kong pop.
The album was in fact a self-financed demo album from the pop band from Hong Kong. I have never heard anything so raw yet so charming and powerful from that territory since. The energy and the drive is not uncommon in the debut albums of some of the most successful bands. The album is named Goodbye Idealism and how sad this seemed to be exactly what they had to do in their pursue for survival and success in Hong Kong pop.
June 17, 2009
Les Cinema de Michel Legrand
I had wanted something light, easy but outstanding last Sunday when I went about my Sunday routine and I found myself reaching the shelf for the 4-CD album Les Cinema de Michel Legrand. It did the trick instantly and for the next four hours or so I was embraced by some of the greatest soundtracks which filled the room with sweet nostagia on a lazy sunny day.
Although I had listened to this album with the booklet in my hand for more than once, for many a moments I still had the urge to check out what was actually being played, or to be exact, which film it was on. The soundtracks were all scored in a short spin of just four years, 1959 to 1963, for a staggering 72 films, and at times, they did sound rather similar to each other, especially those in CD 1 to 3. But this is more a test to my memory and a downside of listening to them all in one go rather than their individual quality.
It was a weird experience when, on one hand, you seemed to know every twist of the score by heart, but on the other, you barely knew anything about the film for which the score was written. And sometimes this could even lead to disappointment. Summer of '42 is a case in point. For years this could easily be one of my favourite tunes, so imagine my excitement when I found the film and the sheer disappointment afterwards!
Luckily though it was not always just disappointment. Coincidentally for instance, I found The Umbrellas of Cherbourg in the library last Saturday and when I put it on the DVD player two days later - it felt as if I was reuniting with some childhood friends when the theme song was coming out from the mouths of the protagonists. Because that was also the first time I understood what the lyrics were about, it felt rather strange as if I had been kept from a heartbroken secret of the dear friend from childhood! It was not a feeling of being cheated but it was certainly a pure magic that we could embrace something without knowing its context or meaning.
I always thought that I have a 'natural' dislike of the genre musical, but I really liked the lighthearted The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, and think the whole film was done beautifully, from the performance, characterisation, use of bright colours, to its simple (deliberately kept?) uncomplicated story, and of course, to its music. Though it was part of a trilogy, I like it better than its predecessor Lola, which was referred to by a character, probably because of the leading actress was more convincing, 'natural' and lovable in the Umbrellas.
It is amazing that such a simple story could work so well and unpretentious on screen. And I believe this has a lot to do with the magic touch French directors are capable of.
Although I had listened to this album with the booklet in my hand for more than once, for many a moments I still had the urge to check out what was actually being played, or to be exact, which film it was on. The soundtracks were all scored in a short spin of just four years, 1959 to 1963, for a staggering 72 films, and at times, they did sound rather similar to each other, especially those in CD 1 to 3. But this is more a test to my memory and a downside of listening to them all in one go rather than their individual quality.
It was a weird experience when, on one hand, you seemed to know every twist of the score by heart, but on the other, you barely knew anything about the film for which the score was written. And sometimes this could even lead to disappointment. Summer of '42 is a case in point. For years this could easily be one of my favourite tunes, so imagine my excitement when I found the film and the sheer disappointment afterwards!
Luckily though it was not always just disappointment. Coincidentally for instance, I found The Umbrellas of Cherbourg in the library last Saturday and when I put it on the DVD player two days later - it felt as if I was reuniting with some childhood friends when the theme song was coming out from the mouths of the protagonists. Because that was also the first time I understood what the lyrics were about, it felt rather strange as if I had been kept from a heartbroken secret of the dear friend from childhood! It was not a feeling of being cheated but it was certainly a pure magic that we could embrace something without knowing its context or meaning.
I always thought that I have a 'natural' dislike of the genre musical, but I really liked the lighthearted The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, and think the whole film was done beautifully, from the performance, characterisation, use of bright colours, to its simple (deliberately kept?) uncomplicated story, and of course, to its music. Though it was part of a trilogy, I like it better than its predecessor Lola, which was referred to by a character, probably because of the leading actress was more convincing, 'natural' and lovable in the Umbrellas.
It is amazing that such a simple story could work so well and unpretentious on screen. And I believe this has a lot to do with the magic touch French directors are capable of.
April 30, 2009
The good, the bad and the queen
The more I listen to it, the more I love it.
Don't ask me why. Though it might have a lot to do with the following:
Damon Albarn's voice
the music
the long instrumental piece of the title track at the end
Another album that appears high on my iPod list is At War with the Mystics from The Flaming Lips.
Last weekend, I had also indulged in playing all the Edgar W Froese albums I have got. In the end, I could not tell which is which, and I also lost track of their differences from music from other electronic artists or bands such as Tangerine Dream, Klaus Schulze... But I don't care any more if I remember which is which...
Don't ask me why. Though it might have a lot to do with the following:
Damon Albarn's voice
the music
the long instrumental piece of the title track at the end
Another album that appears high on my iPod list is At War with the Mystics from The Flaming Lips.
Last weekend, I had also indulged in playing all the Edgar W Froese albums I have got. In the end, I could not tell which is which, and I also lost track of their differences from music from other electronic artists or bands such as Tangerine Dream, Klaus Schulze... But I don't care any more if I remember which is which...
March 03, 2009
This mess we're in
Pool can be a social spot.
Some while ago, I met someone who built sports jets in his garage, those cute ones that take no more than one passenger. I used to know a man whose father was a shipwright in the navy who was most versatile and could handle nearly any household maintenance tasks in a British house. And indeed, I had seen him doing marvellous jobs at his spare time, including laying cork tiles in the kitchen, buidling a deck in the garden, preparing soil for a new garden, and assembling all of Ikea furniture. But building a jet as a hobby is a different matter.
We had a lovely chat and when I told him that I had cycled twice all the way to Changi Village Park, he asked who did I cycle with. 'My iPod', I said. 'I take it everywhere I go'.
Around that time though, cycling was no longer an activity in order to spend time with someone, and besides, I was starting to feel more confident in the pool and cycling was reduced to a secondary option. The journey I take with my bike along the east coast, though pleasant and breezy, is getting shorter. My iPod is more of a daily company while I am commuting to work.
Such a wonderful device it is: once it is on, you are in your own world no matter where and who your fellow passengers are, and as long as the music is loud enough, you can shut your eyes and be carried far away to a secret island of music and imagination.
Because of the relative lack of distraction though, the choice of music, or the mood of it, becomes ever more crucial than when you are playing at home on a hi-fi, because it kind of hits you more intimately. I have found to my happy surprise some long direlicted albums which sound better than I could remember, though there are also equal numbers of good ones which do not seem to play well on iPod.
Every now and then, my iPod will be playing the same tune or album, again and again. Sometimes it is because of the beautiful tune, sometimes it is one particular line, or just the mood. But most of the time, it is combination of all of those: the mood, and the story. Lately, the following have been played rather frequently:
1 One of us cannot be wrong (Leonard Cohen, in fact all of his first three albums), Leonard presents a case that can never be solved in human history
2 Adieu, alma (Dominique A), I have returned nearly all of my French to my teacher, but his voice tells all
3 Strange melody (Jane Birkin)
4 The mess we're in (PJ Harvey and Thom Yorke), a sad song with a sexy performance by Thom. He had never sounded so human, fragile and helpless.
Surprisingly, they are all about the love that should not have been ignited.
Some while ago, I met someone who built sports jets in his garage, those cute ones that take no more than one passenger. I used to know a man whose father was a shipwright in the navy who was most versatile and could handle nearly any household maintenance tasks in a British house. And indeed, I had seen him doing marvellous jobs at his spare time, including laying cork tiles in the kitchen, buidling a deck in the garden, preparing soil for a new garden, and assembling all of Ikea furniture. But building a jet as a hobby is a different matter.
We had a lovely chat and when I told him that I had cycled twice all the way to Changi Village Park, he asked who did I cycle with. 'My iPod', I said. 'I take it everywhere I go'.
Around that time though, cycling was no longer an activity in order to spend time with someone, and besides, I was starting to feel more confident in the pool and cycling was reduced to a secondary option. The journey I take with my bike along the east coast, though pleasant and breezy, is getting shorter. My iPod is more of a daily company while I am commuting to work.
Such a wonderful device it is: once it is on, you are in your own world no matter where and who your fellow passengers are, and as long as the music is loud enough, you can shut your eyes and be carried far away to a secret island of music and imagination.
Because of the relative lack of distraction though, the choice of music, or the mood of it, becomes ever more crucial than when you are playing at home on a hi-fi, because it kind of hits you more intimately. I have found to my happy surprise some long direlicted albums which sound better than I could remember, though there are also equal numbers of good ones which do not seem to play well on iPod.
Every now and then, my iPod will be playing the same tune or album, again and again. Sometimes it is because of the beautiful tune, sometimes it is one particular line, or just the mood. But most of the time, it is combination of all of those: the mood, and the story. Lately, the following have been played rather frequently:
1 One of us cannot be wrong (Leonard Cohen, in fact all of his first three albums), Leonard presents a case that can never be solved in human history
2 Adieu, alma (Dominique A), I have returned nearly all of my French to my teacher, but his voice tells all
3 Strange melody (Jane Birkin)
4 The mess we're in (PJ Harvey and Thom Yorke), a sad song with a sexy performance by Thom. He had never sounded so human, fragile and helpless.
Surprisingly, they are all about the love that should not have been ignited.
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