Everybody knows the First Pleasure of the classical music lover. You like this or not, that’s all. Pleasure of the music, from the music!
If your curiosity is intact, you will read about the composer and its time.
It’s the beginning of the Second Pleasure. When you explore different versions of the piece, you read about this, you compare, you wonder.
Thanks to YouTube you can pre-explore. Listen Fêtes (festivivities) from Debussy. It’s from Nocturnes. Imagine there’s a party somewhere but you go outside is the night :
By Boulez :
Bernstein goes much faster. Electric festivities !
If, on both examples, you go to the middle of the piece, the party is now far. The lovers are in the night, and another energy unfolds : the pleasure of being alive and enthralled under the stars. Like an inner party, an elation. Then…
Oh, there’s a version with two pianos !
Pleasure is to talk about this with a another hunter. Third pleasure?
Tool : Where could you apply that? How could you enlarge your researches? Change of nature? Change of subtleties?
Thanks for reading!
(for the pleasure of being just beside a party, you could read Sipping Moods)
Instagram : drpoopdog
If you’re an explorer, you sometimes discover an artist you… adore.
It’s so good that you can’t resist : here you are exploring the whole chest, pigging out the whole thing. We are all lost souls, craving for…
But sometimes you climb “one more degree”. It’s so good that you decide something.
Keep a part for later. More in reserve. Some gas left in the tank.
This is what I did with a few masters : Puccini, Chekhov, Faulkner, Borges, Jünger. Who are yours?
I know Manon and La Bohème by heart, and pretty well some of other Puccini’s operas, like Tosca or Butterfly, and one third of Trittico. Each time I listen to a part of Turandot I’m floored… but I keep it for later!
Chekhov wrote hundreds of short stories. I have shelves of that guy! But I never read “everything”. It’s the same for Jünger or Borges, or Faulkner.
- Keep the pleasure to discover something new from a Master you love.
- One day it’s maybe to late : you’re dead. Or you’re not interested any more.
- You sometimes don’t remember if you read this or that. Even better, right?
- There’s a middle choice : listen or read once, and then wait for years.
- Years after, you read or listen… another way.
- Choose an infinite area. Restaurants in Paris for example. Hmmm?
Thanks for reading!
Instagram : hallieartwork
In the Part I, I talked about how Röyksopp used tight weaving, hiding musical elements to create some complex, blurry ways to delight the audience.
Blonde Redhead is an alternative rock-band from New York City. It’s totally different than Röyksopp but they have a trait in common. Their way to use the production, the sound, often “complex and blurry”, drowned in reverb.
It’s often an awful low-level cunning trick, used by thousands of lazy groups playing the female-singer-whispering-melancholy-in-reverberation. But Blonde Redhead are masters, and they use it craftily, losing you in bliss, because it’s rich, complex, and harmonically inventive. You just HAVE TO prick up your ears!
Let’s go. Gimme some sound, dear. Thanks.
SW opens like in a WALL of throbbing grey bass, a droning cloud where you can not distinguish what’s happening. Echoes, piano, weaved guitars, bass, maybe? It’s blurry and complex. The instrumental break is a double-line melody surrounded by a bumpjumping piano (do you hear it?). They are aware of it and they play with that : some words appear sometimes more clearly out of the reverb (“it’s not what it seems”), as is they were coming close to you for a second. It’s like painting! The end is a disintegration, an über-reverberated coil of sounds in a golden space. Listen to the bass work, here… Next to this, even The Cure would lose their bearings (or eggs)! C’est beau, non ?
Silently begins more normally – though you can try (and fail) to separate the elements of music. Behind the clear things (the voice, a bass, the percs), it’s a decor of veils, passing things and overdriven clouds.
The structure I see (or I decide to find) in Blonde Redhead, in Röyksopp, it the same
The talent to build something rich and complex, but you don’t BOAST.
Put the surprises and the magic INTO the pastry. Hide them carefully.
Force the audience to listen, to taste, to find where all this pleasure comes from.
To me, it’s high level baking, nothing else.
Thanks for reading!
Cucul la praline is a very common French “idiom” meaning schmaltzy, ludicrously & overly sentimental. You can put this “ass-ass the pralin” on a person in love or on a picture, or… some music.
Quiet Piano Music draws a line in brains. Before the line, you find it peaceful and great, and after it, it’s… schmaltzy!
Of course this line is personal. I love Erik Satie’s Gymnopedies (I chose voluntarily a neutral clip : if you search YouTube, you’ll find plenty of “beautiful” things with flowers and flying birds). On this side of the line, here are the Preludes from Debussy.
OK, let’s get closer to the line. Eno/Budd’s The Pearl is a perfect balance. Satiesque gorgeous piano and ambient sounds. Try Goldmund, or the much more “melodic” Tim Story, which is, for me, the “line”. I won’t go further. No thanks. Cucul la praline.
You advertise, you compose, you take photos? Do you think about the Schmaltsy Frontier?
Who will watch your work? Where is the audience? Pleased but comfortable? Disgusted by complexity OR by “two much sugar”?
Where is the risk to lose the audience? What’s the worst?
Is there a way to add “complex nuggets” or “ridiculous nuggets” in a comfortable piece of Art?
Where is sarcasm and how will you play with it? What line would you prefer to touch?
Why is something cucul la praline? Too simple? What could be surprising?
You’re a teen, you’re a young adult, it’s summer. Let’s party! Of course, let’s party! Let’s have fun!
This is the moment to study territories and moods. Mmhh?
One is to be inside the party. Next to the others. Energy and fun. Music, dance, paper lanterns, long tanned legs, laughs and short skirts, right?
Two is to be beside the party. Night is warm, hands are very slowly brushing over, kisses are delicate (or French). Lovers!
But there’s a third one.
Three is : you’re lonely and you walk around, outside of the party. You can be sad, you can be happy. You may just be in this delicious melancholy of being there… Air smells harvest, lightning bugs draw flickering sinuous lines in obscurity. You just smile because you hear echoes of the party, brought by the wind, or slightly hidden by trees. The party is there, but not too close. You turn around it, or you lie alone in one nocturnal wheat field (there’s a sky above to stare at, right?).
One could study the Lines.
Frontiers between the Party and the Night. No man’s lands and in-betweens. People coming in. People leaving. Places from where you can see. Or hear echoes of voices and laughs.
The Paths between them. A night wanderer coming back from the trees and the sky to the dancers in the light. Two lonely souls out of the party meeting along a coast path and beginning to walk together under the moon. Quietly chatting. People in need of the night to reassemble themselves, to breathe, to think, to appreciate. People of the night in need of the party to check something, or to dance a little, to gather some electricity before coming back into sweet darkness and loneliness. Sipping moods.
It reminds you something? What type are you? Where are introvert people? How do they move? How do they sip? What kind of people do you wanna meet? Where do you stand? In the light with loud music or in the night with stars and shy crickets? Or Both?…