Free live music and stuff in Las Palmas, February 2020

Here are some free events that I attended this month:

• 5 February: David Quevedo & Ensemble Salvaje @ Paraninfo de La Universidad de Las Palmas, Calle Juan de Quesada, 30, Las Palmas de Gran Canaria
  The last event of Festival en paralelo that Timur and I were able to attend (it was free but one had to pick up the tickets beforehand, and I know people who weren’t so lucky).

  The programme included

  • Llamada Tribal (David Quevedo)
  • Intro Salvaje (David Quevedo)
  • Advenimiento (David Quevedo)
  • Excuses (Manuel Bonino)
  • Wild Wild Hip Hop (Tana Santana)
  • Todo Lo Que Te Propongas (Ernesto Mateo)
  • La Ceremonia (Mario Ferrer Medina)
  • Sr. Castaño (Luis Merino)
  • Trance (Giulia Valle, arr. Toni Vaquer)
  • Folías Calmas (David Quevedo)
  • Blues Saljaje (David Quevedo)
  • Interludio para Cello y Violín (Manuel Bonino)
  • Mestizarama V.A. (David Quevedo)

  The band featured:

  Toni Vaquer (conductor), Esther Ovejero, Errol Woiski (vocals), Kino Ait Idrissen (gimbri, vocals), David Quevedo, Manuel Bonino, Ernesto Mateo (piano), Tana Santana (double bass, rap), Tom Warburton (double bass), José Carlos Cejudo (electric bass), Luis Merino (guitar), Germán López (timple), Javi Montero (drums), “Mayin” Mario Ferrer Medina, José Carlos Cubas, Nasim López-Palacios (percussion), Ana Muñoz, Carlos Alemán, Carlos López, Gustavo Montesdeoca, Ana Gil, Jairo Cabrera, Ernesto Aurignac, Kike Perdomo, Gabriel Domínguez, Juan Domingo Travieso (woodwinds), Rubén Guerrero, Abimael Ojeda, Matthew Simon, Idafe Pérez, Josep Tutusaus, Yossi Itskovich, Óscar Sanitso (brass), David Ballesteros, Matej Osap, Liliana Montané, Elisabeth Hernández, Laura Espino, Beatriz Nuez, Ismel Leal, Elena Mederos, David Cáceres, Juan Pablo Alemán, Caterina Trujillo and Miguel Ángel Gómez (strings).
• 6 February: Quiana Lynell @ Auditorio Alfredo Kraus, Avda. Príncipe de Asturias
  Before playing two dates with Perinké Big Band, Ms Lynell gave a masterclass of jazz vocal which, I think, was useful for instrumentalists too although none of them had a chance to jam (unlike, say, Aubrey Logan’s masterclass last year). There was a moment of embarrassment when in the end of the class Quiana asked “Well, who is coming to the show?” and apprently nobody in the audience was going to. “See you tonight maybe?” she tried again hopefully but then Ximo Martínez, the musical director of Perinké Big Band, attempted to save the situation by announcing that both shows are sold out, which made the moment even more embarrassing.
• 7 February — 4 March: Leonardo Da Vinci. Observa, cuestiona, experimenta @ Parque de San Telmo
  Although there are no original works of Leonardo, I found this fun interactive exhibition well worth 30 minutes of my life.
• 8 February: Carmen París “En síntesis” @ Auditorio José Antonio Ramos, Parque Doramas
  Accompanied by Diego Ebbeler (piano) and Jorge Tejerina (percussion, vocals), Carmen París brought her inimitable fusion of jota, bolero, cha-cha-cha, Candombe, jazz etc. etc. with hits such as Cuerpo triste, Distancia espeluznante and Mucho Ringo-Rango. Half-way through Guaraní, the power went off but the trio continued unplugged as if nothing had happened.

• 21 February: Exposición Multiculturalidad @ Centro Cívico Suárez Naranjo, Calle Pamochamoso 34
  With the participation of Coro del Distrito Centro del Ayuntamiento de Las Palmas de Gran Canaria, the African Percussion workshop (including yours truly; however, we played just one African song together with a choir) and the Tango workshop.
  

• 25 February: Juanes @ Parque Santa Catalina
  After a gloomy weekend, with many Carnival events cancelled across Canaries thanks to calima, the Mardi Gras Martes de Carnaval celebrations went as planned, culminating with Juanes’ concert in Santa Catalina, attended by some 30,000 revellers. The place was absolutely packed and for a good reason. Starting with A Dios le Pido all way through Bonita, La Camisa Negra, La Paga, Volverte a Ver, Yerbatero and so on, finishing with La Luz.

Come on, let’s have Spring already.

Chris the Swiss

a film by Anja Kofmel

In war, the choice is not between good and bad; it is between bad and very bad.

Gaston Besson, mercenary

Thanks to the Documental del Mes programme of Filmoteca Canaria, I discover amazing films that I would otherwise never know about, let alone watch.

Shall the war correspondents take sides? And if the answer is yes, just how far can they go? While bearing some similarity to Another Day of Life (another animated documentary about another dirty war — if there ever was such a thing as “clean war”, which I doubt) Chris the Swiss is quite unlike any film I’ve ever seen. The haunting black-and-white animation story is punctuated and at the same time glued together by the “proper” documentary bits. The “Making Of” is worth watching too.

At some point in the film, Anja Kofmel and her Croatian host talk about how easy it was back in 1990s to board a train from, say, Switzerland, and simply go to Yugoslavia, at your own risk. Why, I did that myself in 1994, without much thinking, although I knew all too well that the war wasn’t over yet. (Incidentally, I was the same age as Christian Würtenberg at the time of his mysterious death.) I took a train from Trieste to Budapest through Slovenia and Croatia. I had a transit visa for Slovenia and hoped that Croatian border officers will just ignore me. No they didn’t. We had a three-quarters of an hour stop in Zagreb about five or six in the morning; I was forced to embark on a search of the police station, rather foolishly leaving my bag “with everything” on the train. The police was not far from the train station. I found it manned by a number of, well, men, all of them asleep, some at, some on the tables. The now-partially-awake policemen did not want to accept the foreign currency, so I rushed to look for bureau de change — at this hour, none was opened, but, luckily, the post office was. A sleepy woman changed my few dollars to the local legal tender. Back to the police, got the funny sticker in my passport for an equivalent of two US$; back to the train to reunite with — o miracle! — my bag. There was nobody to show my newly acquired visa though. One week later, on my way back to Italy, the Croats didn’t even bother to check if I had a visa. How annoying.

Бриллиантовая рука

a film by Leonid Gaidai

Yes, we all knew that there was no sex in USSR, years before one Ms. Ivanova blurted out that infamous maxim; and yet, here it was, on screens big and small. In his film “from the life of smugglers” (smuggling = bad, West = decaying, abroad = dangerous, jazz = bourgeois), Gaidai himself masterfully smuggled some forbidden fruit for our domestic consumption. The top-grossing Soviet blockbuster of 1969 and one of the most successful Soviet films of all time, The Diamond Arm contained as much sex (and provocatively jazzy soundtrack) as any viewer in our country could possibly dream about, or more:

• A prostitute (Viktoriya Ostrovskaya) in a foreign city, whose inhabitants speak in a kind of Channel 9 lingo, with her wonderful catch-the-client-phrase «Цигель, цигель, ай-лю-лю!»
• Models on the (Soviet!) catwalk demonstrating the collection “Mini-bikini ’69”
• The femme fatale Anna Sergeyevna (Svetlana Svetlichnaya) working to seduce the naïve Mr. Gorbunkov (Yuri Nikulin) with probably the first ever striptease to grace the Soviet screens

This latter scene is accompanied by the tango Помоги мне (Help Me) performed by Aida Vedishcheva, who also provided the voice for the “song about bears” in Кавказская пленница. This obvious parody, most probablly inspired by ¿Quién será? (Sway), features incredibly silly lyrics. In its turn, the line «Вы называли меня умницей, милою девочкой» is practically begging for being parodied further, for instance

Вы называли меня девочкой, мальчиком-с-пальчиком...
Вы называли меня белочкой, зайчиком, кошечкой...
Ты называла меня слесарем, токарем, мастером...
Ты называла меня Штирлицем, Мюллером, Борманом...
Я называла тебя Винтиком, Шпунтиком, Гаечкой

and so on. The long winter evenings, as well as calima-dominated weekends, must just fly by.

El Placer

by María Hesse
preface by Lara Moreno

Starring Lilith, Eve, Sappho, Cleopatra, Virgin Mary, Mary Magdalene, Colette, Mata Hari, Anaïs Nin, Simone de Beauvoir, Hedy Lamarr, Marilyn Monroe, Anne Sexton, Betty Dodson, Eve Ensler, Madonna, Helen E. O’Connell, Erika Lust, and even Cersei Lannister and Daenerys Targaryen, but, most importantly, María Hesse herself. Beautiful drawings, just enough text — less is definitely more here — and focus on pleasure. A pleasure to hold in hands, to look at, to read, to share, to give as a gift. And then some more.

Eva comió del árbol y de inmediato se le abrió la mente. Quiso que su companero tuviera la misma suerte y le dio a probar la fruta. Entonces Dios se enfadó muchísimo, o fingió enfadarse, porque ¿para qué plantar un árbol si no quieres que coman de él? A la pobre Eva le castigó así: «Aumentaré tus dolores cuando tengas hijos, y con dolor los darás a luz. Pero tu deseo te llevará a tu marido, y él tendrá autoridad sobre ti». Si os quedaba alguna duda, creo que ahora ya queda claro que Dios era varón.

Кавказская пленница, или Новые приключения Шурика

a film by Leonid Gaidai

The subtitle “The New Adventures of Shurik” implies that the “old” adventures of Shurik in Операция «Ы» (1965) somehow precede the events of Кавказская пленница (1967). This is not exactly the case, as Shurik (Aleksandr Demyanenko) is now an ethnography student and has no recollection of previous encounters with the famous trio of Nikulin, Vitsin and Morgunov. It matters not. This film has got almost everything: Gaidai’s signature slapstick; iconic phrases like «Птичку жалко», «Короче, Склифосовский!» and «Бамбарбия киргуду»; Natalya Varley, the new sex symbol of Soviet cinema; and even twist. Our teddy bears do approve.

The Grapes of Wrath

a film by John Ford

Man, in olden days they knew how to make them movies well — and fast. John Steinbeck published his novel in April 1939. According to Wikipedia, “production on the film began on October 4, 1939, and was completed on November 16, 1939.” The movie premièred in January 1940. How’s that?

I never read Steinbeck’s book and now, after watching the film, I doubt I ever will. I mean, I read enough depressing books in my life and the Great Depression wouldn’t be called that for no reason, so forget it. At least the film offers a glimmer of hope. Henry Fonda is all right as Tom Joad most of the time, at least until the moment when he embarks on that goddamn pompous “I’ll be everywhere” soliloquy. The most likeable character is the ex-preacher Jim Casy portrayed by John Carradine (who also appears in Stagecoach). The children, Ruthie (Shirley Mills) and Winfield (Darryl Hickman) are cute and spontaneous, especially in the scene where they discover “white things, like in the catalogue” (that is, indoor amenities).

Casy: At my meetin’s I used to get the girls glory-shoutin’ till they about passed out. Then, I’d go to comfort ’em and always end up by lovin’ ’em. I’d feel bad, an’ pray, an’ pray, but it didn’t do no good. Next time, do it again. I figured I just wasn’t worth savin’.
Tom: Pa always says you was never cut out for no preacher. I never let one get by me if I could catch her. Have a snort?
Casy: But you wasn’t a preacher. A girl was just a girl to you. To me they was holy vessels. I was savin’ their souls. I asked myself, what is this here called Holy Spirit? Maybe that’s love? Why, I love everybody so much I’m fit to bust sometimes! So maybe there ain’t no sin an’ there ain’t no virtue. It’s just what people does. Some things folks do is nice and some ain’t so nice. That’s all any man’s got a right to say. Course I’ll say a grace if somebody sets out the food, but my heart ain’t in it. Nice drinkin’ liquor.

Mascotas, espíritus y otros prodigios del Inframundo

by Pep Brocal

Looking for her cat Dudu, Amalia ends up going to the underworld. Along the way, she meets Bruce Lee, the author of Divina Commedia, and Lucifer, among the others. Gripping story and stylish illustrations will make you crave for more Inframundo.

Canarias en Corto 2020

For me, the two main points of a short film are (1) to tell a good story and (2) to be short. In contrast to, say, last month’s programme, all seven short film presented yesterday in Teatro Guiniguada failed on the second point. For instance, my favourite, and also the longest, Fuera de campo, kind-of-a-documentary that has neither clear beginning nor end, could have said the same in five minutes instead of twenty-four.

Proyección del Catálogo Canarias en Corto 2020 Teatro Guiniguada, Las Palmas de Gran Canaria Thursday, 13 February 2020, 20:00

Zapato roto by Domingo de Luis (11 min) Océano by Fernando García-Moreno Alcántara (18 min) Selfie by Nayra Sanz Fuentes (10 min) Las grietas by Valentino Raffaele Sandoli (9 min) Los espacios confinados (Confined Spaces) by Omar A. Razzak and Shira Ukrainitz (12 min) Fuera de campo by Adriana Thomasa and Pablo Vilas Delgado (24 min) Grietas by Alberto Gross Molo (13 min)

Stagecoach

a film by John Ford

Another 1939 picture from this incredibly prolific director (in his lifetime, John Ford directed more than 140 films). Well, I didn’t care much for the “main” characters, that is, Dallas and Ringo Kid, played by Claire Trevor and John Wayne, respectively. (By the way, it looks like this is the first film starring John Wayne that I’ve ever seen; until now, I only knew his name from Robert Rankin books.) It were the supporting cast who made my evening yesterday: Andy Devine as the stagecoach driver, Buck; fantastic Thomas Mitchell as permanently drunk Doc Boone; Donald Meek (who was also playing the prosecutor in Young Mr. Lincoln) as The Reverend whiskey salesman Mr. Peacock; and Chris-Pin Martin as the innkeeper Chris. The portrayal of the “savage” Native Americans in the film will surely make you cringe, while the monologue of Mr. Gatewood, a currupt banker played by Berton Churchill, is painfully familiar.

Gatewood (clutching valise with embezzled funds): I don’t know what the government is coming to. Instead of protecting businessmen, it pokes its nose into business. Why, they’re even talking now about having bank examiners. As if we bankers don’t know how to run our own banks. Why Boone, I actually have a letter from a popinjay official saying they were going to inspect my books. I have a slogan that should be emblazoned on every newspaper in the country: “America for Americans”! The government must not interfere with business. Reduce taxes! Our national debt is something shocking! Over one billion dollars a year! What this country needs is a businessman for President.

Кин-дза-дза!

a film by Georgi Daneliya
music by Giya Kancheli

I remember me first seeing Kin-dza-dza! in 1987. I quite liked it even though found it a bit long. Ku.

And the second ku a week or so later — back in those days, you had to catch a film during its theatrical run or else (where “else” = probably never). Almost instantaneously, Kin-dza-dza! became a cult classic and a source of many witty quotes, at least among my and my brother’s university mates. Ku twice.

Years later, watching Mad Max 3 on the telly, I couldn’t help thinking how much deeper, more absurd and, above all, how much funnier Kin-dza-dza! was. Now that I’ve mentioned it, Mad Max is not funny at all. Kü!

Many, many years later, re-watching Kin-dza-dza! after a very long gap. (While I was not looking, an animated remake was released and Google made the 30^th Anniversary Doodle.) The great Leonov, Yakovlev, Daneliya and Kancheli are gone but the film has not aged. If anything, it is even more relevant today, what with rampant Plückification of our own planet. Was it that ahead of its time?

Strangely enough, or maybe not, I couldn’t find any decent quality “official” trailer of the movie, although the complete movie is available on YouTube in HD, courtesy of Mosfilm. The English subtitles there are a bit kü but this should not stop you from having ku.

Гедеван Александрович: Извините, а чатлане и пацаки — это национальность?
Уэф: Нет.
Гедеван Александрович: Биологический фактор?
Уэф: Нет.
Гедеван Александрович: Лица с других планет?
Уэф: Нет.
Гедеван Александрович: А в чём они друг от друга отличаются?
Уэф: Ты что, дальтоник, Скрипач — зелёный цвет от оранжевого отличить не можешь? Турист.

Mala mujer: La revolución que te hará libre

by Noemí Casquet
illustrated by Andyn

In what sense is the protagonist of this book “bad”? Well, I suppose a “bad” woman is the opposite of a “good” (that is, conforming to the heteropatriarchal social expectations) girl, as exemplified by Noemí Casquet herself at a tender young age:

Era buena. Sí, la niña buena. Me sentaba con las piernas cruzadas. Me callaba cuando por la calle me silbaban cual perro. Lloraba todas las noches por no sentirme a gusto con mi cuerpo. Odiaba mi menstruación y el ciclo menstrual. Adoraba los dramas repentinos en las relaciones, los portazos y los llantos seguidos de polvos de reconciliación. ¿Sexo en grupo? Jamás. Llevaba sujetador cada día de mi existencia porque tenía un pecho más grande que el otro y se marcaban los pezones con el frío. Qué vergüenza ir sin sostén. La gente sabría que tengo pezones. Estuve en una relación extremadamente tóxica y de maltrato psicológico durante seis años. Me pilló demasiado joven, a los catorce, justamente cuando empezaba a explorar mi sexualidad. Me negué durante demasiado tiempo mi bisexualidad. Creo que me negué todo lo que conllevara follar y dejarme llevar, en general. Me veía fea y gorda y estúpida. Quería seguir el camino establecido como la que más: casarme, tener hi jos, un trabajo estable en una oficina y una casa propia. Era celosa e impulsiva, dramática y egocéntrica. Me importaba lo que decían los demás. Tenía una ansiedad tremenda y a veces no quería salir de la cama.

Of course, it is up to the reader to discover her own unique way to be “bad”. One thing is clear: a “bad woman” is an informed woman. And the book does a good job to inform. In a space of some two hundred plus pages, it covers topics such as gender identity, sexual and relational orientation, self-esteem, “anatomy for dummies”, menstruation, masturbation, sex toys, squirting, hetero- and homosexual practices, STI/STD and their prevention, contraception, group sex, BDSM, Tantra, pornography (complete with the list of the ethical/feminist porn producers), romantic love (or “de mierda”, in the author’s words), emotion management, toxic relationships, and relationship contracts — and all in a rather lighthearted, easy-to-read, humorous way. There is even a QR code for Noemí’s sex playlist. Who said that the revolution can’t be fun?

I guess, as a cisgender man, I am not exactly this book’s target audience. Who cares, I thoroughly enjoyed it anyway. What I found (not) a little bit irritating were the author’s forays into pseudoscience, which I think do not help her cause at all. No, there is no proven correlation between the lunar phases and human physiology, including menstrual cycle and neurotransmitter levels. She could have made a convincing case for the use of menstrual cup without the rant about the evils of “chemicals”. I was also alarmed at a mention of emotional intelligence (which always scores high on my bullshit radar) although what she goes on to say about emotion management is just a common sense advice to verbalise what you feel and want — because none of us is a clairvoyant. The list of yes/no questions in the section 4.2.5 (the more “yeses”, the more “toxic” is a relationship) actually includes a question where “yes” is a healthy answer; I hope that is corrected in the future editions.

The book wouldn’t be half the fun if not for striking black, white and red drawings by Andyn (Andrea Núñez), the young illustrator from Gran Canaria. One more reason to forget the Kindle and opt for a real thing. Ironically, the cover of the book as shown at Amazon or whatever other online shop sports a cartoon girl with her nipples covered by an embossing tape label that reads #FreeTheNipple while the physical copy that I borrowed from our library has no such abomination (see how it should look here).

Young Mr. Lincoln

a film by John Ford

I am not a fan of courtroom drama. So allow me to suggest that, no matter you like this genre or not, you too may enjoy the adventures of young Abe Lincoln (Henry Fonda) as he starts his legal practice in Springfield, Illinois after reading just one thick book. He also indulges in cake competition judging, log splitting, and tug of war. I guess the modern lawyer-centered filmmakers can too learn a trick or two from this classic. It’s not exactly a comedy but it has enough comic elements to keep you awake. Watch out for the judge (Spencer Charters) and Sam Boone, a town drunk turned juror (uncredited appearance of the director’s older brother Francis Ford).

I have to admit that until yesterday I had no slightest idea who John Ford was; thanks to the retrospective by Filmoteca Canaria, I do now.