After a tedious wait when it gets dark, surrounded by a rare public in a museum, entered the Fundació Miró and give me a pouch with headphones, like all end up failing on the plug, tuned to different radio channels where are ringing, loop, songs of exposure. Rare in a museum.
The reason: ten songs, ten places associated. Ten groups warming up to get physically shape the environments that work with your music. The thread will be the knob that changes the channel on the trunk. Click. Hidrogenesse. Click. Mürfila. Click. Mishima. Click. The idea of \u200b\u200bbringing together many different groups under this roof I will toast to Martin Miller, the curator, as soon as you reach the final open bar.
discontinuity, changes in environment, foreign travel companions that are created in this way are the reason the link.
acknowledge that, in view of that kind of octagonal donjon that appears to the monastery (church? Faro? Redoubt?) culture suspicion. The songs are part of our mental landscape. Without them we would be as dead as if comiésemos. We would walk like zombies, we would work, sleep, failing in society without going to be a conscious automatons, lifeless. The process of appropriation of a song is active. Rather than listen, interpret them. Assimilate feelings. And this is the main difficulty of the exposure. The songs are commonplace, and this character is so commonplace that we have tried to capture. Exposure: Each group decides its own way what and how. The where and when is one of the wires.
Everything is different. Each group offers a different perspective, each song fits their physical space as if any of them had done this exercise all his life. The same has been true. John Malkovich false writing a love letter on the back of Uma Thurman nude, old age, but it does not matter (although he had more morbid Faizura Balk) who then becomes real. Click. Another song that any of these groups could be music.
I decided to ask each participant got to catch as he had done to convert a sound in a physical space. This is the result.
Els Friends of the Arts
only visit an exhibition opening day leaves you with a certain face of uncertainty. This is seen in the first instance, the time devoted to the songs. I finished the first, returned the flask and the secundadio feel I chose one of those movies-with-stage-to-backlight-retropenumbrada-for-a-landscape-urban, perhaps the best view of Barcelona that I know, every lamppost, each window flashing some kind of star by the grace of pollution, one of the best filters Photoshop I know, based on beer intoxicating, almost alone in the outer courtyard of the Foundation. Beside me, also alone, Friends of the Arts els did the same while they were chatting with the few people who had. The boarded talking about architecture and his enthusiasm is the basis of this article. Dani
counterquestion Allen fired the issue had raised: How are music and architecture? Idiot me, I did not know what to say, limiting myself to watch one of the white concrete blank walls as if there was the answer. That is obvious: the private terrace, Barcelona, \u200b\u200bthe framework of box. The feelings and how they materialize and we shake. The rhythm is created, the movement of people, something that distracts, something that fails, a place to feel comfortable. Just as a song. Sorry for the delay, Dani. Then I touched them.
considering the installation began wondering what they are. The answer is curious: if you fail to show are a click away. As the clip. Play-stop. We-no-we are. Thus, initially there is the creation of a space but its negation. The ephemeral thing. To achieve this have been pulled, with the assistance of Eloi Tomàs, multimedia, video projection as the four walls of a room. Now-I'm-now-no-I. Click.
The song has been chosen Ai, Jean Luc, the first of its disk. A song of heartbreak or disappointment (prefix league much with the original intention of denying the space) at an accelerated pace, almost a ska deliberately divorced from a letter that addresses an issue at all obvious to be a musician as well. With great humor which recreate a situation of what might have been, and is not, which is also a common place that leaves who ever lived weights waking up the morning of one night years later with the face of an idiot that you get when you ask things you can not answer for any way.
visible plane to move it told me a map. A warm map maps opposed to cold, impersonal, we use to guide us where we need it. Like here. Associated map information, the information overload, the statism of printed waste paper is limited to be useful, forgetting several new features that have that when you remember, going further for installation. Input maps are ceasing to be physical. Increasingly, mobile phones, GPS, and all these devices ipad (basically different ways of presenting a computer) are the maps, dynamic with various filters to present only the information relevant, updated in this concept so strange that we call "real time". More and more personal, almost non-transferable, as each user and our volitions. And all of them, give Google Earth a tourist map of those who shared the English Court in any city in good measure to find its stores, can dream. Imagine new worlds, even transform the city. The first sketch he drew for Gehry's Guggenheim Bilbao is shown at many conferences and, especially, are drawn on a tourist map of the English Court, he spelled out on the ideas that guided the construction then around the building. Click.
Your map: as dynamic as these, a sibling, in this case without any degree of interaction. They do not want to personalize it: they want to interpret it. They do not want to use it, they want you to enjoy. Do not want to guide you, but confusing in a playful game that forces you to revisit it a thousand times, to look out in detail, to understand it. Just as one of their songs. Play with the distractions, the cause and when they got you to set eyes on one point, on the other things are happening. The map case on four walls, O-shaped or C wide open with an extra stick to ninety degrees. The projected out of the corner is the group C (The "Standstill were more consistent than us," I was told), designed, pretending to watch the audience laugh a little of it. The other three wings are dynamic, and images are happening, some of them from wall to wall (like a train all tend to stick with the view, which appears on the right and left march in their own right while still passing secret things that nobody sees because they are watching the transit of cars).
interpret it. You can not cover everything at once, and you have to choose between a quick look at the rhythm of the song or if you want to entertain and repeat and go. And this way of living is similar to how live concert: many people on your side you see the same and different lives. Always. By the way, some of the projected images are precisely concert that probably more than everyone who visits the exhibition has seen live.
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| Drawings: Roger Haus Video: Eloi Tomàs |
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| Drawings: Roger Haus Video: Eloi Tomàs |
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| Drawings: Roger Haus Video: Eloi Tomàs |
Illa Carolina
The site that hosts your installation denies the rest of the exhibition, walls rising high above the eye level. Right at the end of everything, an island. And, true to the name of the group, I was lucky to find Carolina.
At first I asked him where he could buy his songs: the sound is dense, compact, smooth, sweet and powerful at once. Evokes many things, all simultaneously: contradictory traits rather than subtract multiply. They are a group atmosphere, sensational in the truest sense of the word, go straight to the epidermis and we will rise, putting in many goosebumps moments. Still have no label. With the immediate argument (and true) of all cafregrupos who do have I would demagogue too fast. I better shut up.
Installation is sister of the Standstill and Manos de Topo in one very interesting: The three groups have chosen to exhibit in spaces of passage. Or they have chosen make them, go. Illa For Carolina is the most radical: the see marchándote. Its space is the last of the exhibition, a kind of passage that turns 90 degrees and takes you on a wing of the cloister at the outlet where you leave lapetaca. The group has performed in collaboration with Architecture Saeta.
Carolina Badillo defined as a room space. A wood-lined room, warm, a cluster of dark hole. He is associated with work, so it's rough, little polished. So the structure of pine is in the interior. So it can be hung objects, symbols, themes found in his songs, the reasons for this or that point. Feelings at the end. All are done in acrylic blocks carved, dyed a beige off, almost dirty, mate. In contrast to penalties wood back, which forces you to look out for them and Alentec progress. Details. As their own music.
The lighting is low, lower than the eye, and is based on linear fluorescent that reinforce the character of a place of passage of the compound. Speed \u200b\u200bversus the previous details. Contradictions again outnumber remaining. The end result is that the movement you make within the space is erratic, up and down, from object to object, turn on yourself, looking through the holes in the way, with concrete vaults above you. Saluting those who are, not knowing where to look as the music seeps you the brain through the clip headphones, if at that time work. A dance that is called at the end.
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| the group in concert | installation
The Pinker Tones
I hope not to ruin the reputation of Mr. Fury if I speak of him as a kind natured, fun, friendly and very restless. Our presentation was mutual to wonder about the number of Moritz Epidor that we took in the stomach "goes faster, know." I won. Still smiling in no time, when I asked about the meaning of the facility began to talk about architecture. Berlin. The thrill of exhibiting in a building so close formally Bauhaus Archiv, a masterpiece of Walter Gropius when playing without signing his name just so that everyone knew that it was he who planned. Well, not always, streetwise hustler. Has managed to keep the authorship of the Met-Life Building (formerly Pan Am Building, the same part in two Park Avenue in the Big Apple here) after Pietro Belluschi did it all work, both dirty as clean. But that's another story. In short, we have to Mister Furia Berlin, visiting architecture, keeping the skylights of the Bauhaus Archiv and relating to ours. Feeling comfortable with the space I have given away to expose. And did you note.
The cancio'n that originates all SAMPLÉAME is entitled, and is a fun game on the possibilities of creating a work of original art from fragments of other existing songs, and composed and edited, sifted through the sieve of The Pinker Tones, inspired, fun, danceable. In short, it cost me not to start bouncing on the spot when I heard. But it was alone and sober, yet. On this song, about the act of listening, whether interpretation and reinterpretation pivots around the space they have created.
The Pinker Tones els go after Friends of the Arts. You know that room with the soil depressed, in the form of C, with a wall there, which is accessed via a ramp and exit via a ladder? Well there. Spatially
have loaded the C Panel in the front wall bright red. Crossed over the three, the word SAMPLÉAME made with 366 pixels, one for each day of the year and a tip, unless you count after too many beers. Each pixel corresponds the cover of a vinyl record differently. De los Panchos Lou Reed. David Bowie swarming over there away from his ex-lover. Queen. Frank Fontaine, Paul Weller, Pet Shop Boys, Los Panchos. Some greatest hits. A bit of everything, go. And all good. All good to hear. All good to sample. Is there a difference?
Play is play. And reinterpreted. Reinterpretations, Mr. Fury said, tend to infinity. Two different people can not take what the other is playing, the experiences are different, unique. By definition. Experience is a word that our friend used literally. For this to capture the uniqueness of the experience, The Pinker Tones have invented a monolith (2001 and all that) that have been planted in the middle of the C in the geometric center (and how well that goes to control space, hovering above those skylights) with a headset inside with tracks, with different pieces for each listener to make your own song. Clues and hints and clues that you can mix pleasure theoretically up to the theoretical infinite interpretations. Raw material. Mixing possibilities. That and a program mix and any of us to compete with the Pinker Tones. More can not be honest. Mr. Fura the attack, doing sleight of hand, explaining the trick, as such display does not disheveled shameless further reinforces everything that is good about this group: I give the ingredients and do not catch me. To copyright it is half a bar, they say. Talent, a lifetime.
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| image sampling |
Mürfila
succeeds Mürfila a cupboard model boyfriend who is very cute on the bed, a handsome floor of those who appear in these books on architecture all photos without plans signed by a writer friend of a friend, pasta and David Forests with open shirt as manager. Oh, sorry, I'm starting to fall into the habit of my grandmother Quimeta, passing that the actors are playing and always calls them by name. Click. The cast of the record because the Chari, a singer-Choni Miami resident Stephen mixture of Bethlehem, Aramis Fuster and East Tigress, ponytail hairstyle killo tight pot with blonde hair attached to skull, she sells more . A mix of techno-reggaeton latino. Then, as always: the groom's left, the fans leave, has to find work in a record store or something called Fnwgsdac and everything starts to go wrong for a while ... until his new cubicle, having played a lot with her roommate who pulls the syringe from the floor of high explosives and who descaling toilet shit and it has touched This sengundo, Roach meets Andrew, gafapastera glamorous, a guitar-hero pimp who lives in the bathtub and that apart from being able to survive a nuclear attack, which probably already been done, presents the new Model able to make one epic on his back and getting up again. And cockroaches are smart. Click
. One day, a few years old, I saw a clip of Natalie Imbruglia model Cadillac girl about six feet and three hundred horses, fourteen liters per 100 km, and well lit as he sang a bit, filmed just down the road I had to do to go give my house to the CAP when I was bad, there in the Santa Eulalia district. This CAO was located, then in a sort of no man's land so desolate that even the junkies were to burst there, after a dirty white brick fence of a football field of land. When it rained, the CAP was placed in a kind of unhealthy mud pool that saved a lot of money to the Servei Català de la Salut sifting many sick people who came there to be cured of a nice brown color. That's what is now called Plaza Europa. And, as usual, I find the descenturas of Mürfila located there, escaping from the fans in the City of Justice, is about to jump from bridge on Plaza Cerdà and his record is located in the Tower Copisa Tusquets (and how well that have been filmed, with that kind of HDR made film camera much like I did when I photographed). That and more in the first three chapters (and viral) I love U. Visit Him in www.murfila.tv
As you enter the exhibition you are installing Mürfila straight, although presumably you'd have to turn first to the right to visit the Hidrogenesse. The first days were, there Mürfila itself in blue dress and the cockroach. More than a guitar and a friendly jeweled split. To the left, without Chari Chari-World so that nobody has yet succeeded in showing dislocation. To right the Mur-world and the Cucaracha and the bathroom where he lives and plays guitar as he enters his band and a TV tube. Above, white concrete the skylights of the Foundation planning on the two worlds. I've never been clear which of them will fit better, but do remember to dress bullfighter Sert under the Calder mobile, at his home in Locust Island, this Ibiza banks uncomfortable alleged reforms in a haystack that was actually a rich house I was not willing to admit he had bought, in an environment that made me suspect that, to be alive, he would have built the house in Miami Chari. Meanwhile, Mur still singing.
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| in the Chari and the cockroach Andrés Chariwolrd |
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| Sert ... and not at odds . Yes, this guy designed the Foundation (thanks to Jordi Badia) |
Manos de Topo
Manos de Topo. A loose group, different. His songs are a stark radiography in the world of couples. I contacted them through exceptional Maíllo Kike directed clip for their song is ugly. In it, Michelangelo White sings a story of unrequited love that their partner has run away to whoever wants it less, and even fucking worse. The same is more selfish and all. But will that is different. Why we humans lost some things differently? We see something unusual and comes to the bottom, no matter if we destroy the way of life who is with us. As if in any of us lived a Amundsen, a Richard Francis Burton to seek the Mountains of the Moon leaving behind stability, experience, mortgage, apartment, Thermomix and DVDs of Sex and the City that finally got your partner want to see. Or vice versa.
Michelangelo cornered against the wall of the stairs up to the library, closed with a tape of those who do not pass, sipping a glass of cava secondary to celebrate anything. Asked about the meaning of his installation told me, without doubt, the Tunnel of Terror. Tunnel of Terror a partner. It occurs to me that there are two kinds fairs Tunnel: The Love and Terror. All serve to link, in different ways. The ruling is love, and it comes with a couple more or less consolidated, whether for five minutes or a life. Terror at the link you go in with whoever you want, hoping to end clinging to you because of the witch and her broom, or sentence that gives Mr. ludópata with hairpiece behind it. You can even end up being bound by the penalty if you cling to it after forgetting that the man with toupee toupee leads. Ah, love.
Installing Manos de Topo is a Tunnel of Terror. Tunnel of Terror that teaches you what happens when you've linked. Everyday objects. An unmade bed. A kitchen. A low shelf. A TV with DVD. We are in a shared home, a home that would have to be comfortable and happy. Is in shadow, like any Tunnel of Terror. Objects that scare us are still very bright. As museum pieces. Represent the places where things start to turn. The bed and its silences. The kitchen and discussions. To be where he always looks like a program that only one of the two while the other gets bored and bored. A song with stress, to the routine that feeds it. To all those feelings you have when you want things to work and do not get it. The powerlessness that it creates when you get nervous and argue, the same enthusiasm becomes poison. You play?
Standstill
exposure are presented with the track ahead, Bonaparte (parte1). Title to a triple album, the last of the group so far, an exceptional album des font of the title until the last song. The triple album is the express wish of the group, because the length of the compact could do double or even simple. If so would not have the sense that it is party, three discs of 25 minutes, three concepts with total stylistic consistency.
Forward, Bonaparte is the ultimate court of first album. 22 minutes of preparation, contained music, performed with virtuosity, intense, sweet, we will modulate the ear dilating time, tightening and loosen the base of a carpet of sound that combines acoustic instruments with samplers, family records for years used to base. Melancholy. A part of the brain is constantly attentive to detail, the constant variations. And then explodes. The pace battery multiplied by three, the singer's voice goes up an octave and a smile with the plan that was invented to get away later. Then run to change CD.
This tone at once fragile and intimate optimism contrasted, has been moved to the facility meets all of these points and translating them into a coherent whole, simultaneously a joke and a manifesto on what to be, now a museum : Exposure is themselves. "Where we might be better to work here?" He said Enric Montefusco, composer, vocalist and multi-instrumentalist. I do not know if the others coming first, embedding more nose or taking the ideas clars, Enric chose the right place to exhibit. For exposure.
Demonstrating spatial perception worthy of a good architect, spoke of a facility in two by a wall. First subtlety: the room, like much of the Foundation, is unbounded, and, moreover, is a permanent step, almost a panopticon that connects the reception facilities of the other groups. The structure of an empty glass leaves more or less clean, and this plus the skylight above her flat is the only definition that is in the area. The wall consists of a white socket of a light material such as melamine or laminate. About four feet from it becomes clear acrylic, the two parts connected visually without the slightest trava. Tan so that the acrylic is, in fact, more transparent than glass, when new, with this fabulous property has to Delar go light on one side receives exactly its opposite. Less glare.
The part of the area where the group is a cage. Even the chest disappears and methacrylate reaches the ground. The Foundation becomes a zoo. Standstill is on the inside, between the wall and the window, after his cloister, olive, light, pleasant to work. Inside, tables, musical instruments, computers to mix and models. They are doing. At one end of campus (and as this is a zoo), a box and drilling in methacrylates. So they Peanuts strips. Or ask them things. Or do they hang slogans. And there you what you write, because they hang, as evidenced by a sheet saying "the Mishima are better."
We're all a little voyeuristic. Or even if you are an architect. The installation plays with it in a very subtle. There you have the creators of the music you play, and away from her, absorbed in other projects while you listen to what they have proposed. Lag. Reflection on the viewer and the artist: on one side, a factory. Another enjoy (or consume) your results.
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| Standstill in zoo |
Mishima
Group members were in the courtyard of the Foundation, while drinking beer chatted with Jaume Sisa. If there was a camera there I would have felt for a moment, the protagonist of Aniversari clip. Em gave respect say something, but luckily enough dose of alcohol brought me through everything and deal with David Carabén to explain to me what they had done.
The song have chosen to represent is Chemi
n'ha begut (in September Tindra tota life), one of the best of his career, but the others are at their height. To speak of the installation, I put David, almost instantly, to talk about the song. A musician talking about music: total luxury. For him, the song poses a conundrum. Listen to the lyrics and you'll understand (there are those who have translated into Castilian. Is easily found on youtube) is deliberately ambiguous, very affectionate. The singer seems to monologue, reflecting on something that has happened and it changed their life. After going to ask him if he wanted someone PAAD same. If you also will thirst for life. Someone who has not directly share what has happened. Perhaps the only person in the world can not, and is generous enough to worry that she can live well. Because she is a woman. But we tend to that, at least those we love.
The song is installed in the world of pure sensations. Happiness, slavery, addiction. Everything we do beat, heart racing, what makes us happy to lose any sense of proportion. The pleasure and sin at a time. What we are constantly reminded that we are human.
The installation follows the same pattern. Is above all, a stage, a setting, that of the song and the time, the place that made it possible. The song, Mishima and many other moments of pleasure, sin and addiction: the Heliogàbal bar in Gràcia. A bar, several liqueur, beer, bar stools, the dark, dubious cleanliness. After a glass, a woman. Well, dummy, everything is represented. A naked woman. A pussy, alpha and omega, origin and destination safe if you like.
A final landscape bar where they happen as a significant number of the things we make in life: there chatting, listening to music, we know, our hopes, we cut, we reconciliamos and see you play live some group. If the bartender faltase, quiz them on Jaula saldrían Standstill.
Thanks to Friends of the Arts, Carolina Badillo, Mister Furia, Michelangelo White Mürfila, Henry and David Montefusco Carabén for its interventions.
Thanks to Magda English, and Martina Mercé Sabartés Mile Miró Foundation.
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