Rubber Soul

by The Beatles

Some 55 years after its release, Timur gave me this album as a Christmas present. And we’ve just listened to it. Ah, memories, memories.

I remember very well the 1970 seven-inch EP by Весёлые Ребята with a Russian-language cover of Drive My Car entitled «Старенький автомобиль». The Russian lyrics by Leonid Berger (Леонид Бергер) has nothing to do with the original but hey, that’s creativity for you. (As mentioned before, the B-side had a cover of Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da in English.) I used to hate this version; now I rewatched it and... dammit, I think it’s pretty cool.

«Девушка», the 1969 cover of Girl by Valery Obodzinsky, features even more embarrassing lyrics as well as untranslated chorus «Герл» (!!!). Curiously, the record did not credit Lennon/McCartney while referring to Girl as an “English folk song”. For years, I thought it really was.

I knew a lot of its songs from The Red Album, but it was not until mid-1980s that I heard Rubber Soul in its entirety for the first time.

This 2009 enhanced CD, just like the remastered Magical Mystery Tour, includes the mini-documentary viewable on PC. By now, old CD drive became a luxury that my laptop lacks. Never mind that, I’ll watch it... one day.

Big Red Whale

by Timur Kulikov

What can I say? It’s a whale, it’s red, and it’s big. How big? Depends how big you want it. Here you can order a giclée art print of it; the available sizes are 8 x 8″ (20.3 x 20.3 cm), 12 x 12″ (30.5 x 30.5 cm) and 24 x 24″ (61 x 61 cm). The canvas and acrylic prints are also available.

Михаил Жванецкий (1934—2020)

— Достоевский умер, — сказала гражданка, но как-то не очень уверенно.
— Протестую, — горячо воскликнул Бегемот. — Достоевский бессмертен!

Михаил Булгаков, «Мастер и Маргарита»

I myself am not so sure about Dostoevsky. Perhaps Behemoth was joking, as usual. Mikhail Mikhaylovich Zhvanetsky, who passed away this month, yes, he is immortal. For me, he always was.

— Нового Жванецкого слышали?

In pre-perestroika times, you normally could only hear “new Zhvanetsky” on tape, just like you would only hear “new” (or any) Vysotsky in Brezhnev times. I was lucky enough to see Zhvanetsky live in the 1980s. Him and his equally immortal briefcase. Back then, his performances — Mikhail Mikhaylovich simply standing in front of the audience and reading his monologues — were like rock concerts. Not exactly banned, not approved of either.

In that era, Zhvanetsky was one of very few Russian writers worth reading — or, and especially in his case, worth listening to. I remember somebody asked Yuli Kim on one of his concerts in 1980s who, in Kim’s opinion, is the greatest modern Russian writer. “Fazil Iskander, of course”, Kim said. “Fazil is our banner”... He hesitated for a second. “But what about Zhvanetsky? He is our banner too. Looks like we have two banners then.”

The times have changed, Zhvanetsky has got the official recognition, was decorated with titles, orders and so on and so forth. It did not make him loyal to the regime though. And his old monologues still ring true. So the times did not change.

Unlike Dostoyevsky, Zhvanetsky was a true wordsmith. У нас с собою было, сколько стоит похоронить, тщательне́е, включаешь — не работает, длинная, как... — modern Russian language is unthinkable without Zhvanetsky. Thank you, Mikhail Mikhaylovich.

Процесс — это жизнь, результат — это смерть.

Михаил Жванецкий, «Паровоз для машиниста»

I don’t believe in heaven. I don’t know if Zhvanetsky believed in heaven either. But sometimes I think it would be really cool if there existed a place, let’s call it Odessa′ or Odessa+, where three old friends, Zhvanetsky, Kartsev and Ilchenko could meet again, have a drink and laugh. M.M. would smuggle there his old briefcase, open it, take a sheaf of rumpled papers out and read aloud a bit of “new Zhvanetsky”. That would be heaven.

Emerson, Lake & Palmer

by Emerson, Lake & Palmer

Just re-listened, the band’s debut album was also the first ELP album I ever heard, back in 1982. It was a part of my high-school classmate’s (or rather his older brother’s) bizarre vinyl collection which also included White Snake, several Kiss albums and some obscure Hungarian rock records. It remains my favourite ELP work ever, and Take a Pebble is my favourite track.

Happy 50^th, Emerson, Lake & Palmer.

Take a Pebble Greg Lake

Just take a pebble and cast it to the sea Then watch the ripples that unfold into me My face spill so gently into your eyes Disturbing the waters of our lives Shreds of our memories are lying on your grass Wounded words of laughter are graveyards of the past Photographs are grey and torn, scattered in your fields Letters of your memories are not real Wear sadness on your shoulders like a worn-out overcoat In pockets creased and tattered hang the rags of your hopes The daybreak is your midnight, the colours have all died Disturbing the waters of our lives

Live music in Las Palmas, October 2020

In October, things perked up here. (Postponed from August) TEMUDAS fest, MASDANZA, concerts rescheduled from spring — some days we were really spoiled for choice. And the tickets were flying!

• 16 October: Flor de Canela @ Alameda de Colón, Las Palmas de Gran Canaria

  By now, we’ve got used to cancellations: festivals, concerts, anything really. So imagine my surprise to discover that the second edition of the Rock & Books festival, organised by Biblioteca Insular de Gran Canaria was taking place bang in the heart of the city, from 15 to 25 of October! And for free entrance and even without customary pre-inscription — how cool is that?

  So I couldn’t miss the chance to see my favourite Canarian band, this time with the artist Miss Mensi (Laura Castilla) who was painting “live” while Flor de Canela were playing. The programme was familiar — I watched streaming of their concert in Edificio Miller on 26 September — but you cannot compare that with live music. I liked their new(er), harder, funkier sound even more.

  

• 22 October: «Tributo al maestro: Paco de Lucía» @ Teatro Guiniguada, Plaza F. Mesa de León

  Gautama del Campo (saxophones), Ezequiel Reina (guitar and vocal) and our very own Germán López (timple), with bailaora Rocío Pozo, paid their musical tribute to Paco de Lucía. Fantastic rendition of such themes as Canción de Amor, Zyryab, Gitanos Andaluces (bulerías), Río Ancho, Buana Buana King Kong and, of course, Entre dos aguas; plus Camaron’s La Leyenda del Tiempo — wish you were there.

  

• 24 October: Hirahi Afonso «Memento» @ Auditorio José Antonio Ramos, Parque Doramas

  The new Musicando season was opened by Hirahi Afonso (timple) presenting his debut album Memento, with the band featuring Pau Figueres (guitars), Arnau Figueres (percussion), Darío Barroso (guitars), Ismael Alcina (bass) and Rita Payés (voice, trombone), plus guest musicians Belén Álvarez Doreste aka LAJALADA (voice), Claudio Marrero (sax) and Iván Quintana (voice).

  

With more events coming in November, it’s a shame that I won’t see them. I’m off from Las Palmas for a couple of months to the gloomy mainland.

ارواح صغيرة

a film by Dina Naser

Children who fled Syria war growing up in a refugee camp.

What I was fearing to be yet another depressing documentary turned out one of the most optimistic films I saw this year. Kids like Marwa and her sister fill me with hope. Thank you, Filmoteca Canaria!

The Human Voice

a film by Pedro Almodóvar

Today I went to Monopol, to pay my respects to this iconic picturehouse. For it’s closing down, and probably for good. One can (and one does) blame the ongoing pandemic for death of culture but I think the problem runs deeper. The theatre never did particularly well, which is understandable given that it specialises in “non-commercial” cinema. Even so, it could have been managed better — as its potentially last day demonstrated.

I arrived well in advance, only to join an enormous slowly-moving queue. The box office was closed; instead, the tickets were sold by the popcorn girl. My plan was to see the 17:00 screening; when my turn came, it was already 17:08. So I bought the ticket for 18:00 and went for a stroll around Triana, fuming to myself indignantly. And was the theatre full, in the end? It didn’t look it. Come to think of it, I don’t remember Monopol ever being full.

But how symbolic it was to see today The Human Voice, the ultimate goodbye exquisitely delivered by Tilda Swinton — and Dash the dog. (I didn’t realise until today that Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown was also inspired by Cocteau’s play.)

This is both the first English-language film and the first short by Almodóvar, and I hope it’s not the last one. How much better Dolor y gloria could have been if it lasted 30 minutes instead of two hours!