Whether you live for 50 years, 500 years, or 5,000 years, it makes no difference: always there are new things to hear.
Dieter Ammann (1962-), Violation (1999); Lemanic Modern Ensemble (William Blank, cond.) with Karolina Öhman, cello; live, Russia (St. Petersburg), 2014
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lagniappe
reading table
The old pond—
a frog jumps in,
sound of water.—Matsuo Basho (1644-1694; translated from Japanese by Robert Hass)
Of sounds there is no end.
Harry Bertoia (1915-1978), sound sculptures, Bally, Pennsylvania
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I found a bird this morning, down—down—on a little bush at the foot of the garden, and wherefore sing, I said, since nobody hears?
One sob in the throat, one flutter of bosom—’My business is to sing‘—and away she rose!
—Emily Dickinson (1830-1886), letter to Dr. and Mrs. J. G. Holland, c. 1862
Sometimes nothing is more enlivening than to hear something that sounds like nothing you’ve ever heard before.
Rebecca Saunders (1967-), Fury II (2009); Remix Ensemble (Emilio Pomarico, cond.; Antonio Augusto Aguiar, bass), live, Portugal (Porto), 2011
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lagniappe
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after the dance
right away, cutting
the morning grass—Kobayashi Issa (1763-1827; translated from Japanese by David G. Lanoue)
With all he does, this can get lost: on guitar, he’s a killer.
Cee Lo Green, “Crazy,” live (with Prince, guitar), New York, 2011
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Stevie Wonder, “Superstition,” live (with Prince, guitar), Paris, 2010
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I am alive—I guess—
—Emily Dickinson (1830-1886), #605 (Franklin), first line
sounds of Ghana
Prince Buju (vocals, kologo), “In the War,” live, Ghana (Accra), 2014
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[W]hat counted was how you behaved while death let you live, and how you met death when life released you.
—Edith Pearlman, “Blessed Harry” (Honeydew)
only rock ‘n’ roll
Makthaverskan, “Antabus,” live, London, 11/29/14
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Spring at last moistened the town. Impasto leaves replaced pastel buds. He considered self-improvement. He might become a vegan. Let the mouse have his cheese.
—Edith Pearlman, “Tenderfoot” (Honeydew)
father & son
Pastor Brady Blade Sr. (with Brian Blade [guitar] and Mama Rosa), “Amazing Grace,” live, Shreveport, La., 1/30/15
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God’s Grandeur
by Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889)The world is charged with the grandeur of God.It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oilCrushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soilIs bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;And though the last lights off the black West wentOh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —Because the Holy Ghost over the bentWorld broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.
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random sights
last night, Nelson St. near Western Ave., Chicago
sounds old and new
Nathan Davis (mbira, electronics), Simple Songs of Birth and Return
Live, Chicago, 2014
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In the fifth century, the sun used to rise every morning and lie down to sleep every evening just as it does now. In the morning, as the first sunbeams kissed the dew, the earth would come to life and the air would fill with sounds of joy, hope, and delight, while in the evening the same earth would fall silent and be swallowed by stern darkness. Day was like day, night like night.
—Anton Chekhov (1860-1904), “Without a Title” (translated from Russian by Robert Chandler [Anton Chekhov’s Selected Stories, Cathy Popkin, ed.])
There are all kinds of grooves.
Dengue Fever, “Ghost Voice,” “Tokay,” “Girl from the North,” “No Sudden Moves,” live (studio performance), Seattle, 2/10/15
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Life is full of uncertainties and evil, but sometimes a good meal is enough to get you through even the worst of it.
—Melanie Rehak, Bookforum, April-May, 2015 (reviewing Mystery Writers of America Cookbook: Wickedly Good Meals and Desserts to Die for)
angels
Marion Williams and the Stars of Faith, “Mean Old World,” live, Netherlands (Utrecht), 1962
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lagniappe
art beat: more from Friday at the Art Institute of Chicago
Joseph Cornell (1903-1972), Untitled (Forgotten Game), c. 1949
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reading table
Superiority to Fate
Is difficult to gain
‘Tis not conferred of any
But possible to earnA pittance at a time
Until to Her surprise
The Soul with strict economy
Subsist till Paradise.—Emily Dickinson (1830-1886), #1043 (Franklin)
music clip of the day 