Justin Dunford
Tuesday, January 31, 2017
Monday, January 30, 2017
Sunday, January 29, 2017
Autumn Cymny [030]
Autumn Cymny
When I look into someone's eyes or stand in the presence of nature, I see my muse. I use paint as a medium to capture the feelings I cannot find the words to express.
Saturday, January 28, 2017
Friday, January 27, 2017
Anita Endrezze [027]
If you want to add to this poem, please send lines to donquixotemailart@gmail.com using
"The Wall" as your subject-
Anita Endrezze website
"The Wall" as your subject-
Anita Endrezze website
The WallThe Wall ( an ongoing list poem). What's a list poem? Simply a list of things, ideas, etc. Let's make a list poem about the wall. Add your lines to the comments. We'll build a poem. A wall of words.
by Anita Endrezze
Build a wall of saguaros,
butterflies, and bones
of those who perished
in the desert. A wall of worn shoes,
dry water bottles, poinsettias.
Construct it of gilded or crazy house
mirrors so some can see their true faces.
Build a wall of revolving doors
or revolutionary abuelas.
Make it as high as the sun, strong as tequila.
Boulders of sugar skulls. Adobe or ghosts.
A Lego wall or bubble wrap. A wall of hands
holding hands, hair braided from one woman
to another, one country to another.
A wall made of Berlin. A wall made for tunneling.
A beautiful wall of taco trucks.
A wall of silent stars and migratory songs.
This wall of solar panels and holy light,
panels of compressed cheetos,
topped not by barbed wire but sprouting
avocado seeds, those Aztec testicles.
A wall to keep Us in and Them out.
It will have faces and heartbeats.
Dreams will be terrorists. The Wall will divide
towns, homes, mountains,
the sky that airplanes fly through
with their potential illegals.
Our wallets will be on life support
to pay for it. Let it be built
of guacamole so we can have a bigly block party.
Mortar it with xocoatl, chocolate. Build it from coyote howls
and wild horses drumming across the plains of Texas,
from the memories
of hummingbird warriors and healers.
Stack it thick as blood, which has mingled
for centuries, la vida. Dig the foundation deep.
Create a 2,000 mile altar, lit with votive candles
for those who have crossed over
defending freedom under spangled stars
and drape it with rebozos,
and sweet grass.
Make it from two way windows:
the wind will interrogate us,
the rivers will judge us, for they know how to separate
and divide to become whole.
Pink Floyd will inaugurate it.
Ex- Presidente Fox will give it the middle finger salute.
Wiley Coyote will run headlong into it,
and survive long after history forgets us.
Bees will find sand-scoured holes and fill it
with honey. Heroin will cover it in blood.
But it will be a beautiful wall. A huge wall.
Remember to put a rose-strewn doorway in Nogales
where my grandmother crossed over,
pistols on her hips. Make it a gallery of graffiti art,
a refuge for tumbleweeds,
a border of stories we already know by heart.
butterflies, and bones
of those who perished
in the desert. A wall of worn shoes,
dry water bottles, poinsettias.
Construct it of gilded or crazy house
mirrors so some can see their true faces.
Build a wall of revolving doors
or revolutionary abuelas.
Make it as high as the sun, strong as tequila.
Boulders of sugar skulls. Adobe or ghosts.
A Lego wall or bubble wrap. A wall of hands
holding hands, hair braided from one woman
to another, one country to another.
A wall made of Berlin. A wall made for tunneling.
A beautiful wall of taco trucks.
A wall of silent stars and migratory songs.
This wall of solar panels and holy light,
panels of compressed cheetos,
topped not by barbed wire but sprouting
avocado seeds, those Aztec testicles.
A wall to keep Us in and Them out.
It will have faces and heartbeats.
Dreams will be terrorists. The Wall will divide
towns, homes, mountains,
the sky that airplanes fly through
with their potential illegals.
Our wallets will be on life support
to pay for it. Let it be built
of guacamole so we can have a bigly block party.
Mortar it with xocoatl, chocolate. Build it from coyote howls
and wild horses drumming across the plains of Texas,
from the memories
of hummingbird warriors and healers.
Stack it thick as blood, which has mingled
for centuries, la vida. Dig the foundation deep.
Create a 2,000 mile altar, lit with votive candles
for those who have crossed over
defending freedom under spangled stars
and drape it with rebozos,
and sweet grass.
Make it from two way windows:
the wind will interrogate us,
the rivers will judge us, for they know how to separate
and divide to become whole.
Pink Floyd will inaugurate it.
Ex- Presidente Fox will give it the middle finger salute.
Wiley Coyote will run headlong into it,
and survive long after history forgets us.
Bees will find sand-scoured holes and fill it
with honey. Heroin will cover it in blood.
But it will be a beautiful wall. A huge wall.
Remember to put a rose-strewn doorway in Nogales
where my grandmother crossed over,
pistols on her hips. Make it a gallery of graffiti art,
a refuge for tumbleweeds,
a border of stories we already know by heart.
Wednesday, January 25, 2017
Tuesday, January 24, 2017
Chau Huynh [024]
Chau Huynh a Vietnamese American painter currently residing and working in Seattle, Washington. Chau is a contemporary artist who holds an MFA from University of California, Davis. Her art, as she said is “about revealing, speaking-up and finding healing”
Monday, January 23, 2017
Sunday, January 22, 2017
Saturday, January 21, 2017
Friday, January 20, 2017
Thursday, January 19, 2017
Tuesday, January 17, 2017
Steven Peters, Canções Profundas [016]
Steven Peters
Canções Profundas | Deep Songs (2016)
A cinematic mix of field recordings, improvised music and electronics mapping the journey of my Portuguese ancestors from the Azores Islands to California.
The Azores are a chain of nine volcanic islands in the mid-Atlantic, first settled by the Portuguese in the 15th century. American whaling ships began arriving in the 18th century, taking on local men and boys as crew. Those men would later found Azorean Portuguese communities in Canada, New England, and California, which still exist and maintain their cultural traditions and ties to the archipelago.
My great-great grandfather Caetano Freitas came from the island of Flores on an American whaler, arriving in the US in 1865. He settled on California’s central coast near Avila Beach, and married Maria Isabel Avelar, also from Flores. One of their grandsons was my maternal grandfather. This part of my heritage has always fascinated me, even though assimilation and intermarriage had erased any discernible traces of Portuguese culture in my family by the time I was born.
During a trip to Portugal in 2011, I briefly visited the islands of Faial and Pico and was deeply moved to feel a sense of the lives of my Azorean ancestors. I returned in 2014 for three weeks to make recordings on the islands of São Miguel, Faial, and Flores. An additional recording trip to California filled in some missing pieces, and what finally emerged was a concert piece mapping the journey of my immigrant ancestors, starting at the port where their journey probably began and ending in the cemetery where they are buried in California.
Certain aspects of the music were inspired by Azorean musical traditions. The instrumentation was suggested by the ubiquitous philharmonic/marching bands that play for religious festivals and in formal concerts. The viola da terra, a small 12-string guitar, is probably the most iconic instrument in the islands. It is heard here playing a melodic line from the cantigas ao desafío (lengthy “song duels” in which singers exchange pithy improvised verses on a given topic), and in the final section playing the traditional tune Saudade.
Although this is far from a definitive portrayal of this place and culture, I hope that my affection and respect for the subject and the people are evident, and that these sounds and the story they tell will resonate with those who hear them.
Para os meus antepassados...
Project blog: spmrhouse.blogspot.pt
The Azores are a chain of nine volcanic islands in the mid-Atlantic, first settled by the Portuguese in the 15th century. American whaling ships began arriving in the 18th century, taking on local men and boys as crew. Those men would later found Azorean Portuguese communities in Canada, New England, and California, which still exist and maintain their cultural traditions and ties to the archipelago.
My great-great grandfather Caetano Freitas came from the island of Flores on an American whaler, arriving in the US in 1865. He settled on California’s central coast near Avila Beach, and married Maria Isabel Avelar, also from Flores. One of their grandsons was my maternal grandfather. This part of my heritage has always fascinated me, even though assimilation and intermarriage had erased any discernible traces of Portuguese culture in my family by the time I was born.
During a trip to Portugal in 2011, I briefly visited the islands of Faial and Pico and was deeply moved to feel a sense of the lives of my Azorean ancestors. I returned in 2014 for three weeks to make recordings on the islands of São Miguel, Faial, and Flores. An additional recording trip to California filled in some missing pieces, and what finally emerged was a concert piece mapping the journey of my immigrant ancestors, starting at the port where their journey probably began and ending in the cemetery where they are buried in California.
Certain aspects of the music were inspired by Azorean musical traditions. The instrumentation was suggested by the ubiquitous philharmonic/marching bands that play for religious festivals and in formal concerts. The viola da terra, a small 12-string guitar, is probably the most iconic instrument in the islands. It is heard here playing a melodic line from the cantigas ao desafío (lengthy “song duels” in which singers exchange pithy improvised verses on a given topic), and in the final section playing the traditional tune Saudade.
Although this is far from a definitive portrayal of this place and culture, I hope that my affection and respect for the subject and the people are evident, and that these sounds and the story they tell will resonate with those who hear them.
Para os meus antepassados...
Project blog: spmrhouse.blogspot.pt
credits
released August 25, 2016
Rafael Carvalho: viola da terra
Lesli Dalaba: trumpet
Beth Fleenor: clarinet, bass clarinet
Paul Kikuchi: percussion
Joshua Parmenter: electronic processing
Steve Peters: field recordings, electronic processing, alto saxophone
Naomi Siegel: trombone
Greg Sinibaldi: tenor saxophone, bass clarinet
Instrumental recording, mixing, and mastering by Doug Haire at Jack Straw Cultural Center, Seattle.
Hydrophone recordings: William A. Watkins Collection of Marine Mammal Sound Recordings & Data, courtesy of Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute and the New Bedford Whaling Museum; Kate Stafford, University of Washington Applied Physics Lab.
Foliões das Lajes das Flores recorded at 2014 Festa do Emigrante in Lajes das Flores; Filarmónica Liberdade Lajense recorded at 2011 Festa de São Pedro, Lajes do Pico.
Graphic design by Tiffany Lin.
This project was made possible with a 2011 GAP grant from Artist Trust, a 2014 Art Projects grant from 4Culture, and a 2016 Jack Straw Artist Support Program residency.
Thanks to the musicians for their creative contributions; to my family, for encouragement and genealogy research; to Steve Barsotti, Ana Inacio, Dean Moore, Mary Roy. Muito obrigado e abraços to the kind and generous people I met in the islands: Emanuel Albergaria, Rafael Carvalho, João da Ponte (RIP) & Diana Diegues, Márcia Dutra, Pedro Escobar, Maria Martins, Regina Meireles and family, Rui Prieto, Angie Reed, António & Eugénio Viana; and to Luís Bicudo, Paulo Raposo, and Sérgio Fazenda Rodrigues on the mainland.
Rafael Carvalho: viola da terra
Lesli Dalaba: trumpet
Beth Fleenor: clarinet, bass clarinet
Paul Kikuchi: percussion
Joshua Parmenter: electronic processing
Steve Peters: field recordings, electronic processing, alto saxophone
Naomi Siegel: trombone
Greg Sinibaldi: tenor saxophone, bass clarinet
Instrumental recording, mixing, and mastering by Doug Haire at Jack Straw Cultural Center, Seattle.
Hydrophone recordings: William A. Watkins Collection of Marine Mammal Sound Recordings & Data, courtesy of Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute and the New Bedford Whaling Museum; Kate Stafford, University of Washington Applied Physics Lab.
Foliões das Lajes das Flores recorded at 2014 Festa do Emigrante in Lajes das Flores; Filarmónica Liberdade Lajense recorded at 2011 Festa de São Pedro, Lajes do Pico.
Graphic design by Tiffany Lin.
This project was made possible with a 2011 GAP grant from Artist Trust, a 2014 Art Projects grant from 4Culture, and a 2016 Jack Straw Artist Support Program residency.
Thanks to the musicians for their creative contributions; to my family, for encouragement and genealogy research; to Steve Barsotti, Ana Inacio, Dean Moore, Mary Roy. Muito obrigado e abraços to the kind and generous people I met in the islands: Emanuel Albergaria, Rafael Carvalho, João da Ponte (RIP) & Diana Diegues, Márcia Dutra, Pedro Escobar, Maria Martins, Regina Meireles and family, Rui Prieto, Angie Reed, António & Eugénio Viana; and to Luís Bicudo, Paulo Raposo, and Sérgio Fazenda Rodrigues on the mainland.
tags
Monday, January 16, 2017
Friday, January 13, 2017
Thursday, January 12, 2017
Wednesday, January 11, 2017
Tuesday, January 10, 2017
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)