Todds paralysis … Soon

Working hard on a new single called todds paralysis – part of the pseudo seizure series … Stay tuned

Sonnet

I recently implemented a physical contraption that I deliberately named E.U.R.A.Z.Z.I. – a CV controllable eurorack conversion of ciat-lonbarde’s tetrazzi organus. E.U.R.A.Z.Z.I. was instrumental on interpreting my 2003 graphic score and composition entitled “Sonnet”. This composition is based on the juxtaposition of, (i) numerological findings and (ii) musicality features, both systematically extracted from the poem “Sonnet” by Federico Garcia Llorca:

Federico Garcia Lorca - Sonnet

   I know that my profile will be serene
in the north of an unreflecting sky.
Mercury of vigil, chaste mirror
to break the pulse of my style.

   For if ivy and the cool of linen
are the norm of the body I leave behind,
my profile in the sand will be the old
unblushing silence of a crocodile.

   And though my tongue of frozen doves
will never taste of flame,
only of empty broom,

   I'll be a free sign of oppressed norms
on the neck of the stiff branch
and in an ache of dahlias without end.

El toque de silencio (The call for silence)

 

 

Juan Talega was a singer whose roots were in Alcalá de Guadaira, but he spent his life in Dos Hermanas, a small town just outside of Seville.
His rough, no frills, gypsy voice is one of the darkest and most haunting voices in the history of this ancient art.

Juan Talega, who was born in 1891, never sung professionally until he was in his seventies and the soleares, siguiriyas, and toñas were said to have been his favorite styles.
He was the nephew of Joaquin El de la Paula, a man that would teach Juan Talega the secrets of the orthodox flamenco song. Joaquin el de la Paula was gypsy cantaor who lived his life in a small cave near the castle in Alcalá de Guardaura, singing for pleasure and rarely for money, but he was to introduce a style of soleá that is still performed today.

Joaquin was an exceptional flamenco legend, molding the song into his own creation, the lyrics being spontaneously invented as he sang
His cante was passed down to him through generations of singers, and Joaquin and his brother, Augustin Talega, passed them on to Juan.

Juan Talega spent the majority of his life working as a horse and cattle dealer and only sang at juergas and intimate gatherings; but word of his singing spread through the surrounding towns of Seville and he became one of the most revered singers of the old styles of Alcalá.
Juan Talega won the 1959 Cordoba Consurso de Cante Jondo in the toñas and soleares sections, and he was also one of the judges that resided over the third Llave de Oro contest in 1962. But he was said to be uncomfortable in these surroundings and was only really at ease with intimate private gatherings.
Antonio Gala who witnessed one of Juan Talega’s first stage appearances wrote “ Juan Talega with his facies leonina of an age old leper, was there on stage, cornered, sidestepping, cleaning the dry sphinx of his face with a large handkerchief. He was there and he was not.

Juan appeared at many of the festivals in Andalucía accompanied by guitarist Diego del Gastor, who said that Juan’s fabulous siguiriyas and soleares would leave the audience breathless.

Juan Talega sang styles of siguiriyas that he learned from his father Augustin, and these siguiriyas could be traced back to Diego el Fillo. Agustin Talega was a man who knew more styles of toñas than any other singer alive in his time and this contributed to Juans vast understanding of the cante jondo.

Juan Talegas voice had a ghost like echo of his genealogical past and his martinete and soleares de Alcalá are shatteringly eerie.
Towards the end of his life he would be found sitting on an old chair in the street outside of his home in Dos Hermanas, an olive cane in his hand, which was used to beat out the ryhthm to his song.

Singers would come from miles to listen to his mastery and to steep themselves in the old secrets of his cante. Juan Talega died in Dos Hermanas in 1971.

Reference: http://www.andalucia.com/

Odes to Merzbow 2da – The confined birds (release on aug.11)

Oh Merzbow, you that have transcended the limit of distortion until the imitation of free birds – no soul can reflect in a mirror after confining free birds – they claim that … Serial highly organized cells like onions under the microscope but laking nuclei – like small cell carcinoma of the lug; Acute is the knife and amperes shall be delivered since it is more human and highly serial like a code of conduct in a … With the institutional approval … The cage is in the past and gas expands up to the limit of … 78 eight cells times 78 sheds times 78 arcanes is not a cabalistic number to be proud of. Oh Merzbow I empathize and dwell on the sound of your theoretical birds – /Oh Metzbow, there are lines within the dreams of animals – they look like cognitive flowers and are not visible to them. It is shamefully ignored that these geometries belong to sound realms. I was one that had to be there – I could no sample the noise they were making upon the … Prepare the electrodes and get a shower because it is practical after every serial bloodbath … I have heard the noises they make and there are 78 in town

The music/film release early august … Subscribe to the blog and stay tuned

Yours, lopezDoNaDo

Odes to Merzbow 1a – La Matanza (release on aug.11)

Oh dear Merzbow – you that suffers deeply when animals are sacrificed. Oh Merzbow and the Matanza are not for each other, acute sordid sacrifice which often – in vain – the culprit of pain … Start the generator or grab your hopeless knife not like a matador piquet but a grotesque instrument that … Oh Merzbow the serial violations of animal rights and the odd consideration to the … Oh the Matanza and the noise they make. Gas is the end of a night or the start of a life … Prune the picks? Catch @saw “cut ‘apply the electrodes ,..,.,…,..,. Like a futile dissection of 78 abandoned souls at purgatory! Oh Merzbow my friend – you that … Above . The knife vs the electrodes

The music/film release early august … Subscribe to the blog and stay tuned

Yours, lopezDoNaDo

Pseudo-seizure vii -2010

This is my second submission to sound lab and due to the 10th anniversary I decided to share my most recent piece which belongs to a series called pseudo-seizures with aura. Pseudo-Seizure7 was conceivedafter a 3 month placement at a

Hospital’s Neurology Ward. I exploredthe aesthetics of auras during the preamble to an epileptic seizure by interviewing 2 selected epileptic patients who experience recurrent auditory auras (hallucinations) during status epileptics. I generated an extensive series of soundsamples based on these patients’ descriptions. The 2 patients then listened and ranked these sound samples in terms of their resemblance to their auditory aural experiences. To my surprise the samples that ranked more highly came from harsh textures generated by one of my vector synthetiser (TG33 partly designed by Dave Smith for Yamaha back on the days …). With this insight I then generated 11 sound-scapes of which number 7 is the current submission. In addition to these ‘synthetic epileptic auras’ there is a dodecaphonic percussive line which is a mapping of 12 relevant ‘electric events’ extracted from epileptic electro encephalograms (EEGs). The mapping is so that a 12 note system maps epileptic markers and the rhythm is a direct temporal map of when these epileptic events happened – in real time.

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To conclude, the following is a prosaic deconstruction of the physiopathology associated with temporo-parietal seizures with aura. In my opinion a knowledge of this biology is fundamental so to empathise with epileptic patients. I highly recommend reading this some-how-non-sense-paragraph before listening … enjoy the music.

“auras – from – 80% of temporal lobe seizures + common feature — simple partial seizures +++ precede complex partial seizures of temporal lobe origin -~ “auditory hallucinations” :: ‘buzzing’ sound – ‘voice or voices’ or muffling or ambient or harsh sounds. ?neocortical temporal lobe epilepsy vs ?other types of temporal lobe epilepsy. ->Following the aura, a temporal lobe complex partial seizure begins ->> wide-eyed ->>> motionless stare ->>>> dilated pupils ->>>>> behavioral arrest, ‘oral alimentary automatisms’ ‘lip smacking + chewing. Manual automatisms too. or unilateral dystonic posturing of my limbs – could be one or more. most auras and automatisms last a very short period—seconds or 1-2 minutes. The postictal phase may last for a longer period (several minutes, perhaps 14.21 minutes). By definition, amnesia occurs during a complex partial seizure because of bilateral hemispheric involvement – so -

Matador -2009

Currently exhibiting at SoundLab’09 and FILE’09

This piece is a homage to Ignacio Sánchez Mejías and, perhaps, the best-known poem of Federico García Lorca ‘Llanto por Ignacio Sánchez Mejías’. Ignacio Sánchez Mejías was a Spanish bullfighter and poet much admired by artists from Generación-del-27 – an influential group of Spanish avant-garde poets (1923-1927). This piece of music portrays a series of tumultuous incidents related to the tragic death of the Matador Ignacio Sánchez Mejías. By using discontinuities within the musical landscape, and selected modulations of several frequency spectra around numerological rationales (with an emphasis in the numbers 13 and 16, but more in this later), a cinematic landscape is attempted to narrate a series of biographical events on the life of this matador. “After retirement, 1934 Ignacio Sánchez Mejías returned to bullfighting and on August 11, 1934 Sanchez was bullfighting in place of a fellow Matador (Ortega Cano) … the bulls were great that day and he did not want to seem like he was avoiding them. He had no car, no hotel, not even a cuadrilla (bullfighting team). For the first time in his life, he turned to the lottery and drew two tickets with the numbers of the bulls of Ayala that he was scheduled to fight. The first, number 16, Granadino, docile, thin-horned and coarse-skinned, nevertheless gored him. He did not want to be operated on in the miserable infirmary and asked to be taken back to Madrid, but the ambulance took several hours and the trip went very badly. Two days later he was diagnosed with gangrene. He died, in pain and delirium, on the morning of the 13th.” This is one of many stories that my father (a bullfighter aficionado), used to tell me when I was younger and this piece also reflects my perception of life as a continuum in which discontinuities shape meaning being ‘death’ the type of discontinuity I am must intrigued by. I hope you enjoy the piece. References: (1) Andrés Amorós, Ignacio Sánchez Mejías. Alianza Editorial, 1998. ISBN 8420638579; (2)http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ignacio_Sánchez_Mejías.

Intermedio – 2010

Improv during the virtual launch of Lopez-Donado latest submission to Media Fest’10.Lopez-Donado used the following instruments during the 13+mins improv: Premier modified drum-set + cocostuber + modified microphonics

inspired on ‘Romance de la pena negra’

Las piquetas de los gallos – cavan buscando la aurora, – cuando por el monte – oscuro – baja Soledad Montoya. Cobre amarillo, su carne, huele a caballo y a sombra. Yunques ahumados sus pechos, gimen canciones redondas. Soledad, ¿por quién preguntas sin compaña y a estas horas? Pregunte por quien pregunte, dime: ¿a ti qué se te importa? Vengo a buscar lo que busco, mi alegría y mi persona. Soledad de mis pesares, caballo que se desboca, al fin encuentra la mar y se lo tragan las olas. No me recuerdes el mar, que la pena negra, brota en las sierras de aceituna bajo el rumor de las hojas. ¡Soledad, qué pena tienes! ¡Qué pena tan lastimosa! Lloras zumo de limón agrio de espera y de boca. ¡Qué pena tan grande! Corro mi casa como una loca, mis dos trenzas por el suelo,

de la cocina a la alcoba. ¡Qué pena! Me estoy poniendo de azabache, cama y ropa. ¡Ay mis camisas de hilo! ¡Ay mis muslos de amapola! Soledad: lava tu cuerpo con agua de las alondras, y deja tu corazón en paz, Soledad Montoya.

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Por abajo canta el río: volante de cielo y hojas. Con flores de calabaza, la nueva luz se corona. ¡Oh pena de los gitanos! Pena limpia y siempre sola. ¡Oh pena de cauce oculto y madrugada remota!