Free live music in Las Palmas, March 2022

I didn’t see as much as I wanted this month but hey, I saw something.

• 17 March: Lucía Rey @ Teatro Guiniguada, Plaza F. Mesa de León, Las Palmas de Gran Canaria
  Another masterclass organised by Mousikê.

• 26 March: Happy Piano Day in Las Palmas de Gran Canaria, various locations (11:30—22:00)
  The fourth (already!) Happy Piano Day in Las Palmas de Gran Canaria had 66 sessions in 12 locations around the city. I went to Plaza Hurtado de Mendoza, aka Plaza de Las Ranas, to hear Ignacio Fauri at 13:00. When I arrived, there was still a long queue of students of Conservatorio Profesional de LPGC wishing to contribute their bits of art, so Ignacio’s slot was delayed by a quarter an hour. It was worth waiting for though, even on an out-of-tune piano.

  

• 26 March: «Amor y despedida» @ Auditorio José Antonio Ramos, Parque Doramas
  En-cantadoras, a vocal ensemble from Gran Canaria and Tenerife, opened the 2022 Musicando season presenting their new album Amor y despedida. The highlights included Añoranza by Luis Enrique, Cumbia del Mole by Lila Downs and Raíz by Pedro Guerra.

  

And that was it for March.

The Garlic Phantoms: Esplendor y caída

a film by Juan Pérez-Fajardo

The Garlic Phantoms took the concept of one-hit wonder to the extreme: they have just one song. Called The Garlic Phantoms. Very few bands managed to take that little that far. So, one concert, one song. Here, for example, you can see the complete concert of The Garlic Phantoms at Sonorama Ribera on 10 August 2019. All 4 minutes and 51 seconds of it. You may not like it, and most probably you won’t, but at least it’s short. Respect.

Now it seems only logical to take it to a new height by making the film about the rise and fall of The Garlic Phantoms. Fair enough, although you need to have some balls to do this after This is Spın̈al Tap. But keep it short, for Foo Fighters sake. There’s just not enough jokes for flipping 75 minutes.

The Windshield Wiper

a film by Alberto Mielgo

The first Spanish — well, Spanish-American, but still — animation short to win the Oscar. Also, first Spanish animation and first Spanish short to do that. If I saw it without credits, I’d never guess it was Spanish.

So... What is love? Sharing a cigarette on the beach in silence? Running with flowers under the rain? Mistaking a mannequin for your ex? All this, I suppose, and more. A bit long for a short: its 15 minutes could have been made into a great seven-minute film, something that you want to watch and rewatch. And there’s absolutely no need for We Might Be Dead by Tomorrow.

Watch the complete film here.

Дракон

a play by Evgeny Schwartz

I first saw The Dragon in the mid-1980s, at the Theater Studio in the Southwest (Театр на Юго-Западе), with Viktor Avilov as Lancelot. I was so impressed by it that To Kill a Dragon, a 1988 film by Mark Zakharov, was practically bound to disappoint. So it did. (Zakharov himself set an impossibly high standard with An Ordinary Miracle, also based on a play by Schwartz and featuring the same great Aleksandr Abdulov, Oleg Yankovsky and Evgeny Leonov.)

I have to say that I am quite fond of dragons. They are wise and magnificent creatures and slaying a dragon is a heinous crime. The Dragon of Schwartz, of course, is not a dragon at all; it is an allegory of authoritarianism. Deposing a despot is not enough: we have to kill the dragon in each one of us.

But The Dragon is far from dull moralising. After all — and above all — it’s a comedy. The Burgomaster (post-dragon, the President of the Free City) and his son Heinrich (later, the burgomaster) are suitably creepy. So what? Don’t be afraid of these clowns: let’s laugh at them.

Генрих. Не хочешь ты, папочка, попросту, по душам, поговорить с единственным своим сыном! Бургомистр. Не хочу, сынок. Я еще не сошёл с ума. То есть я, конечно, сошёл с ума, но не до такой степени. Это дракон приказал тебе допросить меня? Генрих. Ну что ты, папа! Бургомистр. Молодец, сынок! Очень хорошо провёл весь разговор. Горжусь тобой. Не потому, что я — отец, клянусь тебе. Я горжусь тобою как знаток, как старый служака. Ты запомнил, что я ответил тебе? Генрих. Разумеется. Бургомистр. А эти слова: чудушко-юдушко, душечка-цыпочка, летун-хлопотун? Генрих. Всё запомнил. Бургомистр. Ну вот так и доложи! Генрих. Хорошо, папа. Бургомистр. Ах ты мой единственный, ах ты мой шпиончик... Карьерочку делает, крошка. Денег не надо? Генрих. Нет, пока не нужно, спасибо, папочка. Бургомистр. Бери, не стесняйся. Я при деньгах. У меня как раз вчера был припадок клептомании. Бери... Генрих. Спасибо, не надо. Ну а теперь скажи мне правду... Бургомистр. Ну что ты, сыночек, как маленький, — правду, правду... Я ведь не обыватель какой-нибудь, а бургомистр. Я сам себе не говорю правды уже столько лет, что и забыл, какая она, правда-то. Меня от неё воротит, отшвыривает. Правда, она знаешь чем пахнет, проклятая? Довольно, сын. Слава дракону! Слава дракону! Слава дракону!	Heinrich. I can see, daddy, that you don’t want to speak to your only son honestly and sincerely. Burgomaster. Oh no, sonny. I am not crazy. I mean, I am crazy, but not to that extent just yet. Did the dragon order you to interrogate me? Heinrich. What are you saying, daddy! Burgomaster. Great job, sonny! You conducted the entire conversation admirably. I am proud of you. And it’s not because I am your father, I swear. No, I am proud of you as an expert, an old hired gun. Did you remember what I told you? Heinrich. Sure thing. Burgomaster. How about all those words — fervent serpent, snarling darling, bustler-robustler? Heinrich. I remember. Burgomaster. Beautiful. Just put them in your report. Heinrich. I will, daddy. Burgomaster. You my little spy, you! My only sonny boy! Concerned with his little career, my sweetie. Need any money? Heinrich. Not at the moment, thank you, daddy. Burgomaster. Here, don’t be shy. I’ve got some. Just had a fit of kleptomania yesterday. Take it. Heinrich. No, thank you, daddy. Can you tell me the truth now? Burgomaster. Come on, sonny, you are not a little boy anymore. He wants truth, wouldn’t you know it. I am not just your average citizen, see. I am the burgomaster. I wouldn’t tell the truth to myself for so many years that I even forgot how it sounds, damn it. I distaste it. I loathe it. Do you know what that pesky truth smells like? Enough about that. Hail dragon! Hail dragon! Hail dragon!
⬖ ⬖ ⬖	⬖ ⬖ ⬖
Бургомистр. Слушайте приказ. Во избежание эпидемии глазных болезней, и только поэтому, на небо смотреть воспрещается. Что происходит на небе, вы узнаете из коммюнике, которое по мере надобности будет выпускать личный секретарь господина дракона. 1-й горожанин. Вот это правильно. 2-й горожанин. Давно пора.	Burgomaster. Listen here. In order to avoid an eye disease epidemic, and strictly because of that, it is hereby forbidden to look at the sky. You will learn of everything that is happening up there from communiqués that sir dragon’s personal secretary is going to be issuing from time to time as needed. 1st Townsman. Right move. 2nd Townsman. About time.
⬗ ⬗ ⬗	⬗ ⬗ ⬗
Генрих. Жених, отвечай мне по чистой совести. Согласен ли ты взять в жёны эту девушку? Бургомистр. Для блага родного города я способен на всё.	Heinrich. Groom, answer me in good conscience. Do you agree take this girl to be your wedded wife? Burgomaster. For the benefit of my town I am willing to do anything.
Евгений Шварц, «Дракон»	Evgeny Schwartz, The Dragon (translated by Yuri Machkasov)

Schwartz wrote The Dragon in 1942—1944. After its première in 1944 at the Leningrad Comedy Theatre under direction of Nikolay Akimov, the play was immediately banned. Revived by Akimov in 1962, it was banned again after little more than one season. Soviet art bureaucrats saw The Dragon’s satire transcending any particular régime. And they were absolutely right: the play is as relevant today as it was 80 years ago.

Machine Head

by Deep Purple

Released 50 years ago today, this classic of rock remains, deservedly, the most famous Purple record. My first partial encounter with it was, I reckon, in the mid-1970s. I say “partial” because the tape we listened to then lacked Pictures of Home and Lazy. Discovered by me towards 1980, they became my favourite tracks of the album.

Not as heavy as In Rock, not as diverse as Fireball, Machine Head nevertheless provides more than enough variety and fun for a rock album. It could have been perfect if not for that number about some stupid with a flare gun which I really think should have been left out and replaced by When a Blind Man Cries. Not that it’s bad; it’s just not up to the level of the other songs.

Roger Glover recalls in the liner notes to the 25^th Anniversary Edition (which I purchased, pre-Amazon, directly from The Deep Purple Appreciation Society) how the name came about:

During one of these lost and searching days, I awoke one morning in my room at the Europe and, in that moment between sleep and wakefulness, with eyes still closed, heard myself say the words “smoke on the water” to the empty room. Opening my eyes, I wondered if I had actually said it out loud, or had I been dreaming? No, I concluded, I’d actually spoken those words. Mentally filing it away, I thought nothing more about it until later, when I told Ian Gillan. “Sounds like a drug song,” he observed and since we were devoutly a drinking band, we dismissed it.

Maybe I am too hard on it. (How hard one can be on a hard rock classic?) After all, thanks to it I learned about Montreux (also how this latter is pronounced by the English) and Frank Zappa and The Mothers. By now, the band themselves may well be fed up with the old Smoke but the fans can’t have enough of it. And there’s no shortage of covers. My favourites are Señor Coconut’s Humo en el agua, Dread Zeppelin’s groovy one, an instrumental by Stekpanna (from Standin’ Tall) and 1920s-style version by Robyn Adele Anderson.

Speaking of covers, the rest of the album — the good rest of the album, you understand — is as inspirational. Check out Min Chuguruk by the Siberian ethno-rockers Bugotak and another version of Highway Star by the Italian outfit Black Mamba — that “Oooh”, just before “she’s a killing machine”, is priceless. I loved the version of Lazy by Jimmy Barnes and Joe Bonamassa, from Re-Machined: A Tribute to Deep Purple’s Machine Head. Ditto When a Blind Man Cries, again by Barnes with Jon Lord and The Hoochie Coochie Men, from Live at the Basement.

CD1 of the Anniversary Edition, remixed in 1997 by Glover, is “what it <the album> should have sounded at the time”. It took me 25 years to get used to, or maybe more: I’m still working on it.

RIP Martin Birch. RIP Jon Lord. RIP Frank Zappa. RIP Funky Claude. Long live Machine Head.

Sisters With Transistors

a film by Lisa Rovner
narrated by Laurie Anderson

I went to see this homage to the pioneers of electronic music on the strength of the name alone and was not disappointed. The debut documentary by Lisa Rovner features Maryanne Amacher (1938—2009), Bebe Barron (1925—2008), Wendy Carlos (b. 1939), Suzanne Ciani (b. 1946), Delia Derbyshire (1937—2001), Pauline Oliveros (1932—2016), Daphne Oram (1925—2003), Éliane Radigue (b. 1932), Clara Rockmore (1911—1998) and Laurie Spiegel (b. 1945).

The only familiar name to me was that of Clara Rockmore. She was a virtuoso theremin performer who also contributed to the development of the instrument. Bebe and Louis Barron composed the first completely electronic film score for Forbidden Planet which was credited, however, as “electronic tonalities” (not “music”). Daphne Oram co-founded the BBC Radiophonic Workshop and invented the amazing Oramics machine which creates music from hand-drawn images. Delia Derbyshire also started her carreer at the Radiophonic Workshop where she arranged and coauthored the original Doctor Who theme music. Here’s a BBC Archive clip part of which was used in the documentary:

The film was screened as a part of Cinezín and I enjoyed it much more than its opening feature. Unfortunately, they have chosen not the best room for the projection; I had a problem to see whole of the screen and so did everybody else apart from those in the front row.

Kili Big

a film by Ida Joglar

The first feature of the Puerto Rican director Ida Rodríguez Joglar, Kili Big, shown here under very “Spanish” title Curvy Crew (!), tells the amazing story of the Curvy Kili Crew, a group of 20 plus-sized larger unapologetically fat and beautiful women who took on Mount Kilimanjaro in 2019. It’ll make you laugh, it’ll make you cry, it’ll make you put Kili on your bucket list, and it has an Angélique Kidjo song in it. Highly recommended.