Free live music and stuff in Las Palmas, March 2024

This is what I’ve seen in March:

• 2 March: Kya Loum @ Biblioteca Pública Municipal Josefina de la Torre, Paseo de las Canteras, Las Palmas de Gran Canaria
  This concert was a part of two-day workshop «Mujeres, migraciones y derechos humanos» organised by Karmala Cultura. In fact, I turned up on Friday 1 March to see the performance of Kya Loum planned at 7 pm only to discover that it was already over because the other parts of the workshop have finished earlier. Next day, I came by 7 pm to hear a bit of poetry by Biselé, Karessa Malaya, Gabriella Nuru and Hilda Pérez Rodríguez, followed by the rooftop concert of Kya at 8 pm.

  

• 6 March: «Guante blanco» @ Palacete Rodríguez Quegles, Calle Benito Pérez Galdós, 4
  This happened to be a two-in-one evening: presentation of the award of the IV Premio Internacional de Novela de Misterio e Intriga to Juan Muñoz González, the author of the winning novel, El informante; and the concert of Guante Blanco, which was why I went there. The trio of José Carlos Campos (vocals), Antonio Brito (piano) and Paula Conde (electric bass) performed such hits as Armando’s Rhumba, Luz de Luna, Rata de dos patas, Una canción para la Magdalena, Una Notte a Napoli, and Wilkommen and Mein Herr from Cabaret.

  

• 7 March: «Magua» @ Casa de Colón, Calle Colón, 1
  The Canarian singer-songwriter Sylvie Hernández presented her debut album Magua, accompanied by Marta Bautista (double bass), Totó Noriega (percussion), Pablo Quintana (guitar) and Ner Suárez (guitar, tres cubano, cuatro venezolano, accordion).

  

• 14 March: Ari Giménez @ Museo Castillo de Mata, Calle Domingo Guerra del Río, 147
  The third concert from the cycle «12 Noches de autor».

  

• 21 March: Miryam Quiñones @ Teatro Guiniguada, Plaza F. Mesa de León
  More a concert than a masterclass, but I enjoyed it all the same. Miryam Quiñones took us on an illustrated journey through the history of (mostly) Peruvian author song (trova peruana) and added some “Peruvianised” classics of the genre.

And that was it for this month. The sixth edition of Happy Piano Day, originally planned for 23 March, was cancelled due to rain and is now rescheduled to 6 April. Looking forward to it!

Éclaireuses

a film by Lydie Wisshaupt-Claudel

Marie and Juliette run “La Petite École” in Brussels. Their pupils are children who’ve never been to any educational institution — for example, Syrian refugees. After a few years working hard “just” to facilitate integration of their students into conventional school (exactly the kind they left behind to open “La Petite École”), the titular éclaireuses begin to question their original aim.

The documentary raises many questions and leaves it to viewers to come up with answers. I’d like to ask my students (provided that I have any), especially those with teacher aspirations, some of those questions. Is school always a good thing? Is it really such a good idea to focus on the process over the results? Why do you want to be a part of ideological state apparatus? (OK I’ve been asking them this latter question for a while; don’t remember any honest response.)

I loved the clever and sensitive ways the teachers manage to channel the kids’ anger, even aggression, into something creative/positive. Wanna hit things? Let’s hammer some nails in. Wanna fight? Let’s go to another room and fight, but follow the rules (of fighting). It’s all right to break some things. The students learn that things can break — and help to clear the mess.

Beasts of the Southern Wild

a film by Benh Zeitlin
music by Dan Romer and Benh Zeitlin

A powerful and poetic debut feature of Benh Zeitlin starring Quvenzhané Wallis and Dwight Henry, also in their acting debuts as Hushpuppy and Wink, respectively.

According to Wikipedia, at the audition the then five-year-old Wallis “impressed the filmmakers with her reading ability, tremendous scream, and ability to burp on command, all of which are used in the film”.

This movie was shown as a part of the cycle Tiempo de memoria, memoria en el tiempo, organised by Instituto Canario de Desarrollo Cultural (ICDC).

The Man Who Fell to Earth

a film by Nicolas Roeg

This was the final film of the cycle «Hasta que el futuro nos alcance» of Filmoteca Canaria.

• 6 February: Sleeper by Woody Allen (1973)
• 20 February: Alphaville: une étrange aventure de Lemmy Caution by Jean-Luc Godard (1965)
• 5 March: A Clockwork Orange by Stanley Kubrick (1971)
• 12 March: Fahrenheit 451 by François Truffaut (1966)
• 19 March: The Man Who Fell to Earth by Nicolas Roeg (1976)

In spite of being the newest item on the list, The Man Who Fell to Earth aged the worst. Mr. Bowie is probably the main reason the film acquired the cult status, but I was much more impressed by Candy Clark’s performance as Mary-Lou.

Here’s a curiousity: Nicolas Roeg was also a director of photography in Fahrenheit 451. Those were the days when film directors knew how to handle a camera.

Rosita

a film by Frederikke Aspöck
music by Rasmus Bille Bähncke and Johannes Elling Dam

Johannes reluctantly agrees to help his widower father, Ulrik, to communicate with the latter’s mail-order Filipino bride, Rosita. What could go wrong? Another dysfunctional family drama, or comedy-drama, from the cycle Cine danés en femenino. Compared with En familie, I found Rosita more honest, more relatable, and definitely funnier, in a very realist way. Starring Jens Albinus (The Boss of It All) as Ulrik, Mercedes Cabral as Rosita and Mikkel Boe Følsgaard as Johannes.

Dune: Part Two

a film by Denis Villeneuve

Tamara kept telling me how good Ocine 7 Palmas cinema was, so finally we all went there to see Dune: Part Two in VOSE. I was impressed. By the movie theatre, I mean. Huge screen, great sound and, most importantly, electric reclining chairs. Nice.

I have to say that I neither read the novel nor watched the first part. Maybe (I said, maybe) otherwise I would enjoy the movie not as much as I did. Which I did. It’s got stunning visuals: Miyazaki-esque machinery in Kin-dza-dza-ish setting. Not as funny as Kin-dza-dza! though. I find the (apparently important) genealogy stuff pretty boring. How can anyone be surprised to discover that this or that dude is also their sibling/cousin/grandparent is beyond me. Just look at the European royal families.

Paul the main guy (Timothée Chalamet) is a bit meh, and by the end of the movie grows almost as creepy as Frodo. Totally no match for the most psychotic of his secret cousins, Feyd-Rautha (Austin Butler). Comic relief courtesy of Stilgar (our Canarian bro Javier Bardem). Assorted Bene Gesserit women, naturally, look like clones of each other. Chani (Zendaya) is both cute and cool, in the style of Miyazaki’s heroines. She seems to be the only principal character who does not buy into the Messiah bullshit. Respect.

Now, the blue liquid known as Water of Life. What the hell is that? According to Dune Wiki, it’s the bile of a young sandworm. Sorry, but there is no bile in invertebrates. My hunch is that it is haemolymph of the creature, and its colour is thanks to haemocyanin, which is not particularly toxic and could even have anticancer effects. (Another theory is that “Water of Life” is simply a translation of aqua vitae, and what we see in the movie is a coloured spirit such as Kosako Vodka Mora Azul brought on set by Rebecca Ferguson.) Never mind that: they don’t give Water of Life to every Tom, Dick and Harry but only to a few chosen. Easy enough to convince the rest that the chosen don’t die precisely because they are chosen. Do the recipients of Water of Life suffer the “spice agony”? Sure, why not, because they think they might die. Never underestimate the power of the placebo.

Ekstra Bladet: Uden for citat

a film by Mikala Krogh

If a year (compressed in, well, just under 100 minutes) in life of a declining Danish tabloid newspaper sounds to you like fun viewing, watch this documentary. Otherwise, don’t bother.

The central story, if there is one, deals with the media coverage of two Danes held captive by Somalian pirates (the four fellow Filipino hostages were not even mentioned in the film). Naturally, the prominence is given to the newspaper’s stance (“if not for us, the world would forget about Eddie and Søren”) while the alternative points of view (“you guys are not helping”) are pretty much dismissed. In the end, one of the released hostages filed a complaint, Ekstra Bladet was reprimanded, the sales continued to fall, all in the midst of general apathy. Meanwhile, Shipcraft, the owner of the hijacked vessel, was “cleared of any wrongdoing”. Great.

A Clockwork Orange

a film by Stanley Kubrick

I first learned of this film from the 1974 book called «Алекс и другие. Полемические заметки о мире насилия» (Alex and others. Polemical notes on the world of violence), by one Yuri Zhukov. I remember how much I enjoyed reading this tendentious and hypocritical piece of work, especially the bits mentioning sex because, as we all know, there was no sex in USSR. Revisiting this book now — thanks, Internet! — I wonder if its author indeed believed all the things he wrote (unlikely), wanted the reader to believe them, or was just taking a piss.

По правде говоря, я долго колебался, прежде чем решил прикоснуться к этой теме: так ли уж актуальна для нашего читателя проблема преступности в буржуазном обществе? И стоит ли копаться в столь грязных делах, не оскорбят ли чистую душу советского человека их отвратительные детали, о которых неизбежно придется говорить по ходу повествования, ибо без деталей никакая картина не может быть достоверной?

Truth to be told, I hesitated for a long time before deciding to touch upon this topic. Is the problem of crime in bourgeois society really that relevant to our reader? And is it worth delving into such dirty deeds? Will their revolting details, which we inevitably have to talk about in the course of the story, insult the pure soul of the Soviet citizen, for no picture can be trustworthy without details?

Whatever it was, I am grateful to Mr. Zhukov (RIP) for those revolting details. Since then, I was longing to see the film in all its disgusting glory.

Much later, already in the early 1990s, I read the Burgess’s novel (as «Заводной апельсин») which was published in the magazine «Юность» (Yunost). I wasn’t impressed much by the Russian translation. The original remains on my to-read list.

Finally, I watched the movie as a part of the cycle «Hasta que el futuro nos alcance» of Filmoteca Canaria. What a surprise! I was preparing myself to be clockworkin’ shocked. Didn’t happen. I certainly haven’t expected so much Pythonesque comedy. I can easily imagine John Cleese as Chief Guard Barnes, Terry Gilliam as Dim, Eric Idle as Joe the Lodger, Graham Chapman as any of the officials and/or the Cat Lady, Terry Jones as Alex’s mum, and Michael Palin — sorry, Malcolm McDowell — as Alex himself. Another surprise was to see Prince Charles lookalike (2001 model) as the Minister of the Interior (Anthony Sharp). A masterpiece worth waiting 40+ years for.

En familie

a film by Pernille Fischer Christensen

Ditte (Lene Maria Christensen) faces a trilemma: to have a baby; to move to New York, New York; or to stay in Copenhagen with her terminally ill father, Rikard. There’s nothing particularly gripping about this Danish, um, family drama — as in [Danish (family drama)], or maybe [(Danish family) drama]. Grim outlook and general non-grippedness notwithstanding, it is actually quite watchable and at times even humorous. Although Ditte is meant to be the central character, it’s Jesper Christensen (lot of unrelated Christensens here) as Rikard who dominates the film; he alone makes it worth watching. The movie is spoiled — here comes another spoiler — by its happy sex ending. I mean, happy sex is great, I just don’t believe that Ditte could be back with her Picasso of a boyfriend (Pilou Asbæk).

En familie opened the new cycle Cine danés en femenino in CICCA, organised by Asociación de Cine Vértigo.

Cuerpos vivos & Guián

Two Central American documentaries by women directors, screened yesterday in Casa de Colón.

Cuerpos vivos

a film by Andrea Arauz

An experimental short dealing with gender violence in Honduras.

Guián

a film by Nicole Chi Amén

Nicole is a young Costa Rican of Chinese descent who doesn’t speak Chinese. Her granny Guián, born in China, never learned Spanish. So the two women were never able to communicate in the same language. After the death of Guián, Nicole embarks on a journey to her grandmother’s natal home... An intimate yet universal story. You know, it’s OK to belong neither here nor there.

The title of the film supposedly means “paternal grandmother”. But 奶奶 is pronounced nothing like “guián”: /nǎinai/ 🔊 in Mandarin, /naai naai/ 🔊 in Cantonese. Could it be because Nicole, as she says herself, used to confuse it with 外婆, /ngoi po/ in Cantonese, “maternal grandmother”? Still, does not sound exactly like Guián!