Philip Glass - Knee 3 

Einstein on the Beach: wiki:

The music within the first of the opera [Einstein on the Beach]’s “Knee Plays” features repeated numbers and solfège syllables. Glass states that these numbers and solfège syllables were used as placeholders for texts by the singers to memorize their parts, and were kept instead of replacing them with texts. This numerical repetition, however, offers an obvious interpretation as a reference to the mathematical and scientific breakthroughs made by Einstein himself. 

Knee play: 

Glass defines a “Knee Play” as an interlude between acts and as “the ‘knee’ referring to the joining function that humans’ anatomical knees perform”. While the “Knee Plays” helped to create the necessary time to change the scenery of Wilson’s seven sets, these interludes also served a musical function. David Cunningham, a Glass scholar, writes that the intermittence of Glass’s “Knee Plays” amongst the opera’s four acts, serves as a “constant motif in the whole work”.

I was in this prematurely air-conditioned super market
and there were all these aisles
and there were all these bathing caps that you could buy
that had these kind of Fourth of July plumes on them
they were red and yellow and blue
I wasn’t tempted to buy one
but I was reminded of the fact that I had been avoiding
the beach.

Einstein On the Beach — a 4.5hr avant-garde opus by Robert Wilson, Philip Glass and Lucinda Childs — @ the Barbican, London, 13 May 2012.

Paul Kilbey for One Stop Art:

It isn’t so much that Einstein on the Beach is impossible to summarise, I don’t think, as that it’s just impossible generally. At least, if you were to list this opera’s various constituent elements to somebody, and ask them if it was basically plausible, they would probably say no. Suffice it to say the following: it is four and a half hours long and there is no interval. It has no plot, yet it’s gripping, in a way. The text makes very little sense and relates to both Einstein and the beach only ever tangentially, and most of the time not at all. There is probably more choreography than singing, and none of the opera’s characters (to the extent that there are characters) sing at all. Also, it is one of the later twentieth century’s most ambitious and impressive artistic entities.It really doesn’t seem likely. But to experience it, you very much have to suspend disbelief anyway. Friday’s first-night performance at the Barbican Theatre was my first exposure to Einstein on the Beach, and it’s not an experience like many others.At one point, a woman lying on a large bed-like structure recites a short story about a recent visit to a prematurely air-conditioned supermarket, where she noticed some plumed bathing caps which she was not tempted to buy. She repeats this short story many, many times, varying the intonation but never the words, while two prisoners nearby do a strange dance, and a number of people watch who I think are in a court. She gets up from the bed and, standing in front of the prisoners, tries on various items of clothing and flaunts a gun and a lolly, repeating the short story all the while. She leaves. A lawyer then does something similar but this time the text is long and disjointed and about Mr Bojangles.

The body of the opera is made up of a number of scenes which might loosely be described as similar to this. Einstein can sometimes be seen, sitting on a chair at the front of the stage, playing the violin. Between each of the scenes is a ‘Knee play’, made up of entirely abstract connecting material. Two of these are essentially ballet scenes, though somewhat more frantic and confused than any actual ballet, with dancers nipping off stage and back again haphazardly and frequently. Like most elements of the work, these dances betray a structural emphasis on pattern which utterly trumps concerns such as narrative, unity and coherence.It’s important to remember that Einstein isn’t just a Philip Glass project. It’s actually one of the most brilliantly successful artistic collaborations imaginable. It also makes a mockery of classification, being not so much ‘minimalist’ as ludicrously maximalist. Robert Wilson is the director and designer, and Lucinda Childs is the choreographer – and it was, in fact, the dancing which was most enthralling last night. Childs also wrote bits of the opera’s perplexing, circuitous text, though more of it is by poet Christopher Knowles. The ‘lyrics’ are credited to Glass. These are mainly counting, solfège and nonsense syllables. All aspects of Einstein prioritise pattern and sequence, but absolutely never in a fully logical way. The stylistic mix which emerges is unforgettable.This particular production – the first since 1992 – is from Pomegranate Arts, and is midway through a tour which has already visited France and Italy.

The Philip Glass Ensemble provide the music, under the direction of Michael Riesman, who has apparently led every performance of the piece ever, and unsurprisingly this musical account was immaculate. The performances of the spoken texts were no less immaculate, and the delivery from the principals – Helga Davis, Kate Moran, Charles Williams and the young Jasper Newell – was completely stunning, with a mechanistic, call-centre sort of air.

I hear the show went technical on the first couple of performances, but by the time I saw it, the production was flawless — lucky because seeing how elaborate and heavy on tech the set design was (some of the set changes were a bit clunky), I could easily imagine how a serious technical cock up could come break our 4.5 hour-long concentration.

Yep, 4.5hrs. No interval. And I am not kidding when I say that there was not a single dull moment that could have been used as an excuse for a toilet break. A mere five-minute absence would alone justify having to buy another ticket and see the opera a second time — N.B: I say opera, but that’s really not a good word to define it…musical theatre piece?… or giant epic avant-garde fest? yes, that’s more like it.

I got sucked in pretty much instantly —  something to do with the repetitive patterns that I find hypnotic. I’m also rather drawn to the absurd and the incomprehensible. It gives you license to shut down your brain and not try too hard to understand what’s going on on stage. Because there’s nothing to understand, of course. You can sit back, relax, and get lost in the world of Wilson, Glass and Childs.

The two dance acts were particularly impressive, mainly because of the insane physicality and endurance the dancers had to demonstrate in order to sustain the relentless pace Lucinda Childs put them under. Add to that the rather frantic score Philip Glass chose to accompany the dance acts, and there you have it, rapturous applause. 

+ 12 brilliantly expressive singers juggling with numbers and solfège syllables + the two main actresses (Helga Davis & Kate Moran) performing weird poetry with phenomenal style (I’ve been listening to the 1993 studio recording of Einstein On the Beach and I have to say that Davis and Moran’s delivery is much more compelling) + let’s not forget the awesome and haunting score, of course.

[photos courtesy of LuminatoEvents]

Einstein on the Beach - An Opera in Four Acts by Robert Wilson & Philip Glass (via LuminatoEvents)

Not to be missed. The last time they revived it on stage was 20 years ago. 

Bonnie “Prince” Billy - I See A Darkness

I love this newly re-worked version. 

Check out the original song => HERE

This Is What Creating Dubstep Looks Like

Major Lazer - Get Free (Feat. Amber Of Dirty Projectors)

rocketshoes:

It’s like Diplo took a shit ton of Xanax on a vacation by a beach and made this song. 

So, you know. Keep doing that, Diplo. 

The Bonde do Role remix is pretty awesome too => HERE (via seafaringwoman)

Maps and Atlas - Old and Gray

I like Maps and Atlases but their new album doesn’t quite do it for me. Maybe it’ll grow on me… If i let it, that is.

This song I really like though. It sorta gets boring half way through but if you’re a bit patient, there’s a refreshing change of tempo 4.30 mins in, so bear with it… Or not, whatever.

The Shins - The Rifle’s Spiral

Cool animation music video directed by Jamie Caliri, featuring three sinister gentlemen, a magician and a giant rabbit.

Der Golem, wie er in die Welt kam (The Golem: How He Came Into the World) (1920) by Paul Wegener

Weimar Germany’s expressionist silent horror film, here in its entirety and awesomely scored by Frank Black of the Pixies. Hell yeah.

Lauryn Hill - I Used To Love Him

No doubt The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill is one of my favourite albums of all time.

… So when can we expect The Return?

Miss Lauryn Hill @ IndigO2, London, 14 April

Memorable, phenomenal, superb, too many spine-tingling moments to count, Ooh La La La… loads more platitudes where that came from so best I stop here. Also, she kept losing her dress and sang a little jokey chorus abut of that… so cute I wanted to jump on stage, hug her and take care of that wardrobe malfunction for her. Except I was way high up, stuck in the balcony where they parked all the adults with money — while the cool street kids with less money where in the pit. Talking about the crowd, it was not surprisingly very mixed (spanning all ages, all colours) but man there were lots of stunning and fashionable black girls in the house. Lots and lots…. Impressively so…. A really nice change from the usual indie gigs I go to where the crowd is slightly whiter and certainly not as good looking. 

Miss Hill sang the entire Miseducation + some big Fugees hits + some Bob Marley and Stevie Wonder covers. No new song, as far as I could tell… But isn’t she supposed to release a new album this year though? 

The Independent:

“It’s been a long time coming,” says Ms. Lauryn 
Hill, as she appears on the IndigO2 stage to the sold-out crowd.

“We cut through so we can get back to doing it the way it should be done.” This sounds like a veiled apology for the past decade, where her eccentric behaviour and cryptic proselytizing for a religious/political cause no one could quite figure out, did little to preserve the glory that came with her brilliant, ground-breaking ‘98 The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill. Garish outfits and makeup, peculiar new songs - Social Drugs anyone? - bad vocals and frustrating re-mixes of her classics seemed to taint her last two London shows in ‘05 and ‘07, but if all this was the sum of being vexed at the music industry and any other personal woes, then tonight’s show suggests she’s finally made peace with the world.

Flanked by an enthusiastic 7-piece band, the youthful looking 36-year-old delivers an ecstatic tribute to her musical heritage and the album that made her famous, defying any misgivings she’d lost her sparkle. The first part of the nearly two hour proceedings features a flamboyant recap of Everything is Everything, where her pitch perfect rasp evolves into a spine-tingling gospel lament, as well as a funky reworking of The Doors’ Light My Fire and Marley’s Concrete Jungle, which seamlessly segues into Forgive Them Father. All the while, Hill’s a fearless conductor who’s remarkable to look at. Completely in sync with the music, she continuously whips her head around to each band member to ensure they’re keeping up and commands each song, from the ominous Final Hour to the endearing Zion.

Other heartfelt numbers, like The Sweetest Thing and further tributes to Marley and Stevie Wonder also elicit approving cheers, followed by a thunderous performance of Lost Ones, and a quick dip into Fugees territory, where she truly exceeds herself, thanks to a machine-gun delivery and tomboy swagger, made all the more incredible when you’re reminded she’s doing all this macho posturing in a shiny, gold dress.

The show’s only shortcoming is the dodgy soundsystem and the fact she steers clear of the MTV Unplugged 2.0 album, which for all its criticism had some real gems - and even she points out she thought “no one wanted to hear that”, promising she’ll come back to perform it. But all this does little to dampen the rest of the evening,which has more than enough triumphs to certify this lady’s on the comeback.

Sam Amidon - Saro

Sam Amidon @ Westminster Reference Library, London, 12 Apr 2012

Sam Amidon comes across as a gentle and slightly whacky soul — when he needs to make an important decision, he goes out to the woods with a bottle of wine and get his answers from the trees… You know the type. But more importantly, Amidon’s got a great soulful voice (ala Nick Drake… spookily so, I might add) and some beautiful tunes to show it off.

[More pix from his set => HERE]

Sufjan Stevens — UFO Sighting / The Black Hawk War

I’ve been meaning to merge those two songs for fucking ever. At two mins each, they’re unbearably short and that’s totally unacceptable. Whereas, as one, they become this beautiful 4-min gem. So there, by the power vested in me, I now pronounce “UFO Sighting” and “The Black Hawk War” bound together. Moving on.