Saturday, April 19, 2008
Ila Cantor and the Egyptian
It seems to me that every time I go to La Bilbaina, the show starts later and later. I get the impression that this is a generally Spanish feature. Society functions like a typewriter ribbon, extending out further and further until it has to be pushed in again. *ping! - chk chk click click chk - ping!*
The last time I attended the jazz club, I had recommended to a certain man who always wanders around with his camera, that he set up a website, along with, I'm sure, many others. And lo and behold - Here it is!. So now you can read my humble opinion about La Bilbaina sets, as well as getting a thousand words worth of second opinion (or perhaps, first-hand account?). I even brought my camera along to this gig, thinking I'd take a couple pictures, seeing as Mikko wasn't there to sketch the happenings, but I put it meekly away - no doubt my camera suffered from an attack on its poor little ego, seeing the size of Enrique's lens!
But, to the Ila Cantor Quartet! The group were recording tracks for their new album - which may explain the somewhat tense aspect on the part of the composer/guitarist throughout the set.
Their sound, I must admit was unique, complicated, technically advanced, but not quite to my taste. If it were a dish, I'd say it was complicated and strong, but too heavy on the spices, and therefore a bit unpalatable. Some listeners may have started to feel the effects of indigestion and left during the break (not something that happens so often at La Bilbaina).
What I appreciated: There was a very fascinating cross-over between a punk/rock style and jazz which I hadn't heard before, and that was superbly done. But despite that, I still preferred the bits when Ila Cantor's guitar was set to not so 'dirty' sound options. My favourites from the group, were without a doubt the saxophonist (Fredrik Carlquist) and the drummer (Joe Smith). Smith was practically sensual with his drums - one of the most feeling sets I've seen! And Carlquist reminded me of a very friendly uncle (who happens to rock the saxophone!!). Ila Cantor and the Bass Cellist (Tom Warburton) were clearly on the same page, and Warburton really supported Cantor well - but unfortunately, Smith and Carlquist seemed more often than not more comfortable in their own skins, and working with each other, than with Cantor and Warburton.
Warburton only had two solos, the first of which was practically inaudible - I'm not sure whether this was done purposefully, but in any case, as a bass cello fan, I felt somewhat annoyed that it was not until his final solo (in the last or second to last song!) that I actually heard him play properly!
Anyhow, I didn't buy the CD - but, as I mentioned earlier, it was more a question of a style that didn't really sit well with me, rather than a lack of skill on the part of the musicians. I say, if you are into a super-experimental sound, and both jazz and heavy rock, buy the CD, and especially watch out for Ila Cantor's solos. She definitely worked better as a soloist - in fact, when she was playing on her own was probably the only time I saw her smile on stage! And also, look out for "Hens", "Docking" on their upcoming album!
***
I finally completed "The Egyptian" by Mika Waltari (Original Finnish: Sinuhe, Egyptilainen).
Yes, yes, shame on me for 1) not reading in the original language, and 2) being a 'bad' Finn and only getting around to reading the classic in my 'old age'.
To further create scandal, I believe that was the first Finnish literary work I've ever read. Shame, shame. I'll read the Kalevala next if somebody finds a good English translation. I think I go against the grain when it comes to common opinion on what language books should be read in. I think what's important is the enjoyment of reading and the communication of the message. If you are more comfortable reading in English, then read a good translation, and add that book to your list of favourite books.
Or, optionally, do your head in struggling with a language you are not comfortable with and throw the book against the wall in angry rage half-way through.
I say let the people who have the skills translate the meaning and form, and make of the book a work you will enjoy to the fullest!
There are a million reviews of Waltari's work out there already, so I won't plague the internet with yet another in-depth one. I will, however, comment on what I perceive to be the central question that the book asks:
"Is it better to live a life shaped by ethics and compassion, and thus die alone? Or would one rather turn a blind eye to suffering and gather all earthly wealth around oneself?"
And the book doesn't pass judgement on either form of living, even though the protagonist leans towards the ethical, and his faithful servant towards the material. I think, from that relation between Sinuhe and Kaptah, there springs a certain analogy for the human psyche - no matter how we wish to strive for the light, for the truth, for purity, the material cannot be shafted away - it must always follow us, even through our convoluted course of the search for meanings and maintain us, sometimes unwillingly, in this life. That is what is magical about this book - it is an epic historical adventure, spanning the entire life of Sinuhe, and the rise and fall of several pharoahs; but most importantly, it is a thoroughly profound look at the human condition, and the struggle raging in each individual.
fon @ 4:53 PM link to post * *