Posts Tagged ‘music’
Yesterday a 3-day classical music festival, which thinks outside of the box of what we might expect “classical” music to be, kicked off at 59 rue de Rivoli in Paris. This is the 3rd edition that I’ve photographed for them. This year two concerts were performed in the St Merri church, and the last concert of the night, Le Cabaret Contemporain, an electronic-dance-classical-move-your-body hybrid, transformed the 59 gallery into a nightclub.
Loosely defined, a plethora of genres, a place for musicians to meet and collaborations to form…. In two weeks I’ll be photographing a three-day jazz festival at 59 rue de Rivoli in Paris. These guys will be playing. Les Guappecarto. They are lovely subjects to have in front of the camera. Gorgeous music too.
When he makes art his insides come out – through his voice, through his hands, in painting, installation or music – and it appears to be as natural as breathing.
An illustrative story…one night we were at a jazz club. One of those on rue des Lombards. It was more or less a jam session night. He went out to smoke, and when he came back inside he made a B line straight for the stage and started playing the congas. I didn’t know he’d met one of the musicians outside, who invited him up to play. What I saw was my friend boldly going on stage without a word and playing like his life depended on it. Shy people like myself are in awe of such confidence and would like it to rub off.
This was Manu last year.
He still smiles like he did when I met him.
Manu’s site, for a look into his twisted universe.
Two weekends ago I photographed a 3-day jazz festival at 59 rue de Rivoli in Paris. During these days it occurred to me that jazz just may heal all wounds. There is music that can open wounds and even inflicts wounds, music that reminds you of old wounds, and music that reminds you of what has already healed.
In any mood, on any day, jazz is welcome to my ears. Of course, there is a huge range within it and I have a preference for the 50s (ah, imagine driving in a 1954 Panhard Dyna Z listening to Buddy Murrow…). But sometimes the right medicine is simply a freely traveling saxophone (Isaac Kemo can make his growl) or the muffled voice of a trumpet to take me away. And other times I crave jumping ragtime, funk or soul, something highly improvised or something slow and blue. The uniqueness of the genre, in my life, is that I will never say no to it.
Exception: free jazz is only desirable live.
I spent the weekend photographing a classical music festival at 59 (click here for the story of 59 rue de Rivoli in Paris). It was an ambitious undertaking, with concerts in the ground-floor gallery every hour, 10 hours a day, as well as performances on all six floors. It was open to the public and all completely free, or however much you felt like contributing.
A piano was somehow maneuvered into Suisse’s Musée Igor Balut, where Lise Charrin was playing Bach and Scarlatti.
Ah the slide guitar is comforting…
And Sal Bernardi plays it like it’s an extension of his body.
Friends had a gig for “honky tonk night” at the Café Courant on Friday.
When I hear country music in Paris,
I get homesick.
Is there a music more uniquely American?
It’s been Italian week at 59. The gallery is hosting three artists (Antonio Bonura, Marianna Mendozza and Angelo Maisto) who drove up to Paris last weekend. We’ve simultaneously had Guappecarto (longtime friends of 59) play concerts here in the gallery, at New Morning and at L’International. The rhythm of the language is the air and the Tuscan wine is flowing.
Yesterday I arrived at 59 needing desperately to make photos. I set up my lights fast, trying not to trip visitors with my cables (high Sunday afternoon traffic), and ran down to the gallery to propose a quick shoot with Marianna, Saverio, Angelo, Tony and his dog Rocco before the concert started.
After those spontaneous portraits, I ran down to the gallery where Guappecarto had started playing. If you are in Paris and you don’t know them already, check ’em out. The first time I heard them play was also the day I entered 59 Rivoli for the first time. On the inspiration scale, this day was seriously high.
The Guappecarto guys are charming as hell and play with a passion that translates emotion into sound in a direct line from their hearts to ours. I’m kind of a fan. The music can be soothing, but it’s also got an energy inspiring to action, to creation, to dance, to do SOMETHING… and a bit of dreaming of the sea, and late nights in Italy. Their passion is matched by their humor and hearing their music live is some kind of nourishment that words can’t match.