sounds of New York day two
Sam Pluta (1979-), Broken Symmetries (2011-12); Wet Ink Ensemble (Sam Pluta, electronics; Joshua Modney, violin; Erin Lesser, piccolo; Alex Mincek, tenor saxophone; Eric Wubbels, piano; Ian Antonio, percussion), live, New York, 2016
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lagniappe
random sights
other day, Bellwood, Ill.
more
Wet Ink Ensemble, Pendulum V (Alex Mincek), live, New York, 2009
langiappe
reading table
in such an ugly time the true protest is beauty —Phil Ochs (1940-1976), Pleasures of the Harbor (1967), liner notes
in such an ugly time the true protest is beauty
—Phil Ochs (1940-1976), Pleasures of the Harbor (1967), liner notes
Sunday night, in Chicago, I heard these folks perform at Constellation. Afterward, as I walked out the door, the night air seemed clearer, lighter, as if it had just been washed.
Wet Ink Ensemble, Pendulum VII (Alex Mincek), live, New York, 2013
art beat: other day, High Line (New York)
Tony Matelli (1971-), Sleepwalker, 2014
sounds of New York (day three)
If this life of ours isn’t easy, why should our music be?
Alex Mincek (1975-), String Quartet No. 3; Mivos Quartet, live, New York, 2013
By Emily Dickinson (1830-1886; Franklin 384) It dont sound so terrible—quite—as it did— I run it over—”Dead”, Brain—”Dead”. Put it in Latin—left of my school— Seems it don’t shriek so—under rule. Turn it, a little—full in the face A Trouble looks bitterest— Shift it—just— Say “When Tomorrow comes this way— I shall have waded down one Day” . I suppose it will interrupt me some Till I get accustomed—but then the Tomb Like other new Things—shows largest—then— And smaller, by Habit— It’s shrewder then Put the Thought in advance—a Year— How like “a fit”—then— Murder—wear!
By Emily Dickinson (1830-1886; Franklin 384)
It dont sound so terrible—quite—as it did— I run it over—”Dead”, Brain—”Dead”. Put it in Latin—left of my school— Seems it don’t shriek so—under rule.
Turn it, a little—full in the face A Trouble looks bitterest— Shift it—just— Say “When Tomorrow comes this way— I shall have waded down one Day” .
I suppose it will interrupt me some Till I get accustomed—but then the Tomb Like other new Things—shows largest—then— And smaller, by Habit—
It’s shrewder then Put the Thought in advance—a Year— How like “a fit”—then— Murder—wear!