AI WEI WEI

Ai Weiwei on Politics

Totalitarian society creates a huge space that, as we know, is a wasteland. The great success of this system is that it makes the general public afraid of taking responsibility; afraid of taking a position or giving a definite answer; or even of making mistakes. There is no revolution like the communist revolution. You simply burn all the books, kill all of the thinking people and use the poor proletariat to create a very simple benchmark to gauge social change. This has continued for generations – after just two or three generations deprived of continuity in education we inevitably become completely cut off from our own past. (Kirby, p. 25)


“So many crimes have been done to humanity and were never really publicly revealed-a lack of awareness, a tack of individual responsibility. And it's still the same system, the same party there. Even if it looks like it has broken, there are still some major facts that need to be cleared up. Without doing that, we can't be a democratic society, can't be a liberal-thinking society, and there's no true freedom of speech… I've said this in as many public forums as possible, but of course they will not publish it. So I put it in my personal blog, but there is danger in that also. People always warn me, telling me that I've touched on some areas you should never touch, that I'm the only person doing that. So many people today, they avoid it." (Thea, p. 29)

NEW YORK IS FULL OF LONELY PEOPLE

SIWAN

Oh! my chosen one among all beings ...my star ...my moon!

Oh! a willow branch when she moves

Oh! the look of a gazelle in her gaze

Oh! perfumed scent of the garden stirred by the breeze of dawn

Oh mistress of this languishing look which enslaves me

For you i shall give my sight and my hearing

When shall i recover from this lovesickness

يا صفوتي من البشر

شعر المعتمد بن عباد

يا صفوتي من البشـر ..... يا كوكبا بل يـا قَمـر

أيا غصنـا إذا مشـى ...... يـا رشـا إذا نظـر

يا نفس الروضة قـد ..... هبت لها ريح سحـر

يا ربة اللحـظ الـذي ..... شـد وثاقـا إذ فتـر

متى أداوي يـا فـداك ..... السمع مني والبصر

ما بفؤادي من جـوى ..... بما بفيك من خصـر

The focus of Siwan is not one of strict musical scholarship, but rather the imagining of what music would have sounded like at a certain place and time lost to antiquity. That time and place is medieval Andalusia, the southern most region of Spain, where Muslim, Christian, and Jewish intellectual cultures mingled unmolested before the Spanish Inquisition. Balke's studies of the history and writings of the region revealed a thematic universality among the Sufi poets and the Catholic and Sephardic mystics, a fact clearly evident in the texts chosen for this special recital: literary works as seemingly diverse as the martyred Moor Al- Aallaj's "Thualthiayat" and San Juan de la Cruz's (St. John of the Cross), ecstatic "Todo ciencia trascendiendo" ("Rising Beyond All Science").

INTERMEZZO

LA TABERNA

La Taberna del Gourmet

monastrell

Sevilla - forgot the name :- )

I didn't eat there...

CHANTS, HYMNS, DANCES

ECM's New Series has seldom delivered an album of such ageless beauty, or one that fits in with contemporary trends so majestically. Loosely based around the spiritual compositions of Armenian-born philosopher-composer Georges Ivanovitch Gurdjieff, The narrative here centres around the effortlessly evocative solitary Piano of Vassilis Tsabropoulos, eventually finding companionship with Anja Lechner's mournful, intoxicating Cello. Although this year has certainly seen an incredible volume of groundbreaking imaginary soundtrack pieces, some breaking the mould with all sorts of anachronisms and electronic modifications, this breathtaking album manages to achieve this generic osmosis with nothing more then just two traditional instruments at its disposal. The way the piano notes resonate into infinity, the noir movements of the cello - suggestive of a bygone era yet strangely coherent with the new home listening stylings that have dominated this year's most exceptional albums. Fans of everything from Virgina Astley to Eric Satie, from Max Richter to Swod, from the Notwist's instrumental work to Michael Nyman...need to check this amazing album out without any further delay. Essential listening.

SONGS OF THE SIXTH DALAI LAMA

Songs of The Sixth Dalai Lama

White crane !

Lend me your wings

I will not fly far

From Lithang, I shall return.

So wrote a desolate and lonely Tsangyang Gyatso, The Sixth Dalai Lama, to a lady-friend og his in Shol town in 1706, when he was being forcibly taken away to China by the mongol soldiers of the Qosot Lhazang Khan - away from his people and the Potala Palace. No one at that time understood the message contained in the song.




Over the eastern hill rises
The smiling face of the moon;
In my minds forms
The smiling face of my beloved

Yesterday's young sprouting shoots
Are withered straws today.
Like the ageing body of a youth
Stiff bend as a southern bow.

If only I could wed
The one whom I love,
Joys of gaining the choicest gem
From the ocean's deepest bed would be mine


She smells sweet of body
My sweetheart, the highway queen;
Like the worthless white turquoise
She was found, to be thrown away.


Longing for the landlord's daughter
Blossoming in youthful beauty
Is like pining for peaches
Ripening on the high peach trees.


Sleepless I am
Because I am in love;
Fatique and frustration overhwelm
When day brings not my beloved to me.


Spring flowers fade in the fall;
It is not for the turqouise bee to mourn.
I and my sweetheart are fated to part;
It is not for us to cry.


Frost gathers on the glistering flowers
And then the cold north wind blows.
The frost and the wind must have come
To drive the bees away from the flowers.


In love with the lake,
The swan longs to stay longer,
But the ice covers the lake
And the swan flies
With no regrets.


The wooden horse,though devoid of feeling,
Glances back from the ferry;
But my beloved, devoid of gratitude,
Does not even glance at me.

I have hoisted prayer-flags
For the good luck of my beloved.
Forest keeper, Ajo Shelngo,
Do not trample her good luck flags.


The legal seal to seal documents
Cannot utter a word in witness;
Better it is to seal one's heart
With the seal of thruth and justice.

If the blossoming hollyhock is leaving
As an offering to the altar,
Leave not the young turquoise bee behind:
'Take me with you,
To the altar.'

If my beloved who stole my heeart
Renounces the world for the holy dharma.
My youth too shall seek
Retreat in a hermitage.

I incline myself
To the teachings of my lama
But my heart secretly escapes
To the thoughts of my sweetheart.

Even if meditated upon,
The face of my lama comes not to me,
But again and again comes to me
The smiling face of my beloved.

If I could meditate upon the dharma
as intensely as I muse on my beloved
I would certainly attain enlightenment
Surely, in this one lifetime.


The snow pure water of the Holy Dagpa Shelrill
The dew drops of the rare Naga-Vajra grass
Essence of the ambrosia
Fermented into wine by Yeshe Khandro
Incarnated as a wine-maiden
Saves the drinkers from rebirth in the lower realms,
If the ambrosia wine is drunk with the right mental attitude.

When my luck was good
I hoisted auspicious prayer-flags
And the young lady of noble birth
Hosted me at her home

She sparkled her smile
To the crowd in the tavern,
But from the corner of her eyes
She spoke of her love to me.

So enchanted by her
I enquired if she would be mine
'Only death can part us'
She said;
'In this life, nothing can
Separate us.'

 

It snowed at dusk
When I searched for my sweetheart
Now the secret cannot be kept;
In the snow my footprints remain

When I dwell in The Potala
I am Rigdzin Tsangyang Gyatso,
When I roam in Lhasa and Shol
I am the libertine, Dangzang Wangpo

TIBETAN DANCE.

Bésame, bésame mucho

Bésame, bésame mucho

Como si fuera esta noche

La última vez

Bésame, bésame mucho

Que tengo miedo a perderte

Perderte después

Bésame, bésame mucho

Como si fuera esta noche

La última vez

Bésame, bésame mucho

Que tengo miedo a perderte

Perderte después

Quiero tenerte muy cerca

Mirarme en tus ojos

Verte junto a mi

Piensa que tal vez mañana

Yo ya estaré lejos

Muy lejos de ti

Bésame, bésame mucho

Como si fuera esta noche

La última vez

Bésame, bésame mucho

Que tengo miedo a perderte

Perderte después

Bésame, bésame mucho

Que tengo miedo a perderte

Perderte después

Que tengo miedo a perderte

Perderte después

 

 

Kiss me a lot

Kiss me, kiss me a lot,

As if tonight was

the last time.

Kiss me, kiss me a lot,

Because I fear to lose you,

To lose you later on.

Kiss me, kiss me a lot,

As if tonight was

the last time.

Kiss me, kiss me a lot,

Because I fear to lose you,

To lose you later on.

I want to have you very close

To see myself in your eyes,

To see you next to me,

Think that perhaps tomorrow

I already will be far,

very far from you.

Kiss me, kiss me a lot,

As if tonight was

the last time.

Kiss me, kiss me a lot,

Because I fear to lose you,

To lose you later on.

Kiss me, kiss me a lot,

Because I fear to lose you,

To lose you again.

Because I fear to lose you,

To lose you later on.

                                  Lyrics Consuelo Velasquez

JAN GARBAREK GROUP

Jan Garbarek: soprano and tenor saxophones, selje flute; Rainer Brüninghaus: piano, keyboards; Yuri Daniel: bass; Manu Katché: drums

This one is very eagerly-awaited: it has been six years since Jan Garbarek’s last album as a leader (“In Praise of Dreams”). And, moreover, this double-album – recorded in Dresden’s Alter Schlachthof in October 2007 – is also the first-ever live set from the highly-popular Garbarek Group. The band, now including Brazilian bassist Yuri Daniel, powers through repertoire old and new, and the Norwegian saxophonist is in top form, his exchanges with Manu Katche’s bold, emphatic drums particularly exciting. Material includes “Twelve Moons”, “There Were Swallows”, “Voy Cantando”, an ecstatic version of “Paper Nut” (last heard on Shankar’s “Song for Everyone”) and much more.

DANCE WITH WAVES (Anouar Brahem)

DE PROFUNDIS

De hundrede elskende

sover for evigt

under den tørre jord.

Andalusien har

lange røde veje.

Cordoba, grønne oliventræer,

hvor hundrede kors

vil få dem til at huske.

De hundrede elskende

sover for evigt.

Federico Garcia Lorca

THE GIRL FROM IPANEMA

AL OTRO LADO DEL RIO - JORGE DREXLER

 

Clavo mi remo en el agua

- I dig my oar into the water

Llevo tu remo en el mío

- I carry your oar with my oar

Creo que he visto una luz

- I think I have seen a light

al otro lado del río

- on the other shore of the river

El día le irá pudiendo

- The day will be breaking down

poco a poco al frío

- the cold, little by little

Creo que he visto una luz

- I think I have seen a light

al otro lado del río

- on the other shore of the river

Sobre todo creo que no todo está perdido

- Above all I think that not everything is lost

Tanta lágrima, tanta lágrima y yo,

- So many tears, so many tears and I,

soy un vaso vacío

- I am an empty glass

Oigo una voz que me llama, casi un suspiro

- I hear a voice that is calling me, nearly a sigh

"Rema, rema, rema"

- "Row, row, row"

"Rema, rema, rema"

- "Row, row, row"

En esta orilla del mundo

- In this shore of the world

lo que no es presa es baldío

- what is not a dam is waste land

Creo que he visto una luz

- I think I have seen a light

al otro lado del río

- on the other shore of the river

Yo muy serio voy remando

- I am rowing very serious,

muy adentro sonrío

- but deep inside I'm smiling

Creo que he visto una luz

- I think I have seen a light

al otro lado del río

- on the other shore of the river

Sobre todo creo que no todo está perdido

- Above all I think that not everything is lost

Tanta lágrima, tanta lágrima y yo,

- So many tears, so many tears and I,
soy un vaso vacío

- I am an empty glass

Oigo una voz que me llama, casi un suspiro

- I hear a voice that is calling me, nearly a sigh

"Rema, rema, rema"

- "Row, row, row"

"Rema, rema, rema"
- "Row, row, row"

Clavo mi remo en el agua

- I dig my oar into the water

Llevo tu remo en el mío

- I carry your oar with my oar

Creo que he visto una luz

- I think I have seen a light

al otro lado del río

- on the other shore of the river

NAVAJO NIGHT CHANT

NAVAJO NIGHT CHANT

I

House made of dawn.

House made of evening light.

House made of the dark cloud.

House made of male rain.

House made of dark mist.

House made of female rain.

House made of pollen.

House made of grasshoppers.

Dark cloud is at the door.

The trail out of it is dark cloud.

The zigzag lightning stands high upon it.

An offering I make.

Restore my feet for me.

Restore my legs for me.

Restore my body for me.

Restore my mind for me.

Restore my voice for me.

This very day take out your spell for me.

Happily I recover.

Happily my interior becomes cool.

Happily I go forth.

My interior feeling cool, may I walk.

No longer sore, may I walk.

Impervious to pain, may I walk.

With lively feelings may I walk.

As it used to be long ago, may I walk.

Happily may I walk.

Happily, with abundant dark clouds, may I walk.

Happily, with abundant showers, may I walk.

Happily, with abundant plants, may I walk.

Happily on a trail of pollen, may I walk.

Happily may I walk.

Being as it used to be long ago, may I walk.

May it be beautiful before me.

May it be beautiful behind me.

May it be beautiful below me.

May it be beautiful above me.

May it be beautiful all around me.

In beauty it is finished.

In beauty it is finished.

'Sa'ah naaghéi, Bik'eh hózhó

GLAD I MET: JOHN McNEIL

JOHN McNEIL is regarded as one of the most original and creative jazz artists in the world today. For over three decades John has toured with his own groups and has received widespread acclaim as both a player and composer. His highly personal trumpet style communicates across the full range of contemporary jazz, and his compositions combine harmonic freedom with melodic accessibility. John's restless experimentation has kept him on the cutting edge of new music and has kept him from being easily categorized.

I was lucky to meet John i 1979 in New York. I was doing some promotion photography for Nils Winther of SteepleChase Records. A few month later we teamed up for a European Tour including Scandinavia, Holland, Germany and France. I was very honored that John dedicated the song BlewBo to me.


The story about the track is quite funny. I met John in the Airport and raced through town to the recording studio. John had the impression of me as a very quiet and blue guy when I met him in New York, but now he saw me as a 'racedriver' doing everything to get to the studio in time. I think the track - with a bit of Miles influence- reflects that pretty cool...

FEDERICO GARCIA LORCA

CANTE JONDO

Til Salvador Quientero

Floden Guadalquivir flyder

mellem oliven og appelsiner

Granadas tvende floder falder

ned fra sneen til hveden

Ay amor

der rejste og ej kom tilbage

Floden Guadalquivir

har et granatrødt skæg

Granadas tvende floder

et af tårer et af blod

Ay amor

der rejste og ej kom tilbage

For skibe med sejl

har Sevilla en vej

på Granadas vande

ror kun suk afsted

Ay amor

der rejste og ej kom tilbage