THE RED FLOWER PRESS: POSTS

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How to describe that moment, right after the third bell, when it’s time to go on stage? Anxiety? Fear? Happiness? Probably each artist will have their own definition. Mine is a mix of all of that, added to some components that I do not know how to define (state of super concentration? heightened senses?), because I do not think about it, I just enjoy feeling it. Not so clear? I know, but it is a kind of trance, and how can you define a trance? Could you? Hu?

The moment a concert starts is magical, spiritual, transcedent, but until it comes… what a hard time! I and you what I am talking about, my friend. I am just coming a awesome concert (great audience, good merch sale, lots of fun on stage etc) , preceeded by a bad night. A really bad couple of nights, to be true.

Why?, you are thinking. What happened? Nothing but a simple cold, caused probably by the very stressful situation of producing a show, as an independent musician. If you know what I mean, you have probably experienced a something similar and will relate to my story.

Twenty-four hours before the concert I texted my musician: “We may have to cancel the gig. I will give you a final word tomorrow at ten”. Six-thirty in th morning I was walking up and down my living room, still unsure about what to do.

My nostrils were finally free (a sine qua non condition for singing, as you know), after a couple of breathing-through-the-mouth nights and that was a great pro to keep the gig, on the con side, I was unsure about the quality of my voz as it was. Furthermore, I was unsure about how long this conditon would last.

Drama enough for you for the morning of gig night?

After talking to my dear friends S. and F., which were kind enough to take their time and talk to me, in order to check how my voice sonded, I decided to keep the gig. And I am sure glad I took this somehow riskful decision.

After all, you have to earn Showtime.

Be seeing you!

G. F.

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Last Saturday I went to a music concert. A big production, performed on a huge kind-of-modern-but-tasteless-inside-a-mall music hall.

Yes, I know this is not a very unbiased way to start a piece, but today I am going to take a day off from bias and simply express my impressions of this experience. It all started with my sister’s adoration of an actor who is also a romantic singer with his own band.

Accompanying her was the only reason I stopped my hectic pre-production routine for my next concerts, getting into a car for more than an hour until I reached a neighborhood I do not like (among other things because it is projected for cars and pedestrians feel, well, wrong), with lots of of shopping centers until we reached one of them where a gigantic concert hall is placed.

So far, everything is bad, but it gets worse: for this type of mega-event it is necessary to arrive in advance, which in the end means looking for a long time at the screens next to the stage, on which the concerts of the house for the coming months are presented. The problem is that bright lights that are too close bother me deeply. Alright, we have come this far… let us move on.

The show finally starts and, in addition to the crooner, there are eight musicians on stage, including a single (!) backing vocalist, whose voice is digitally multiplied.The repertoire is vast, the band is very good and the girl does what she can, but besides lining up one hit after another, I learned little about the former heartthrob, whose face, by the way, was much prettier before the procedures. And, yes, I wanted to know more about him.

Strictly speaking about the music, I was expecting more variation in the song format (a duet, at least). After half an hour, everything sounded kind of the same, kind of repetitive and my attention was already on other things, like the high ticket prices, my tight budget and all the challenges of being an independent artist.

Amid this ocean of thoughts, one stood out: my small concert, in a small theater, looking directly at my audience, seemed to me an incredible, unique, special experience. And it all made sense again.

Be seeing you!

G.F.

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There are many ways to create an identity, just as there are many ways to relate to the divine. I dare say that El Templo de las Ideas, produced by the Pagliuca-Mena Sexteto, one of many formations led by the Italian-Venezuelan brothers Silvano and Angelo Pagliuca-Mena, manages to achieve both purposes.

It is, at the same time, a celebration of the exuberant Latin identity in its diversity, and an invitation to introspection, to the act of listening, of paying attention to the multiple details of this impeccable production. Those who accept the challenge are treated to an almost mystical experience of transcendence. An affective journey through the left behind but never forgotten hometown Maracaibo.

Although the tracks of El Templo de de las Ideas are scattered across my many playlists, it has been a while since I have listened to the full album, and the first thing I realize is that El Templo de las Ideas is capable of surprising the listener over and over again.

Ahora o Nunca (Now or Never), the opening track, revealed to me something Brazilian in its introduction, which would not be a surprise, since Silvano is a deep connoisseur of Jobim and João Gilberto, among others.

In Yara, the following track, Silvano welcomes the listener with his piano, opening the curtains for the powerful trio formed by Eduardo Vega (tenor sax), Luis Alfredo Zambrano (trumpet) and Nelson Pacheco (trombone). The precise conductin of Angelo on the drums with the elegant support of Alberto Mora (bass) ensures a calculated high-risk, high-impact performance.

Caribay y las Cinco Ágilas Blancas (Caribay and the Five White Eagles) is the most cinematic of all tracks. Once again Vega, Zambrano and Pacheco are present in total harmony, creating a dense and hypnotic noir atmosphere.

In Aura, the next track, the smoke dissipates completely and it is Silvano’s to run wild. One of my very favourite parts is the lively dialogue with Mora, followed by an amazing solo by Angelo. Also noteworthy are the paticipations of Gregory Boza on trombone and Francisco Arteaga De Pool on tenor sax.

Maracaibo Mía (My maracaibo) is a declaration of love announced by Vega, Zambrano and Pacheco who return for passionate performances, in a true ode to their homeland. From the clash between the “real” and the “dream” city, a very personal sound portrait of Maracaibo emerges, which is presented there in all its nuances, from those present in the chaotic Latin American reality to the affective ones.

Closing the album is Guasa Influenciada and its rising melodic lines (the lind that quickly stick in the memory). The track offers an expansive, immersive vision of Latin American rhythms, leading to a frenetic jam, marking the bridge from Maracaibo to the world of the best of current jazz.

Be seeing you!

G.F.

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My Sunday feeling is one of my favorite Jethro Tull songs. The live version at the Isle Of Wight Festival, in 1970 has such an energy and expresses such a potency of what art has the power to do, that no matter how many times I watch it, it always impresses me tremendously. Same goes for ther virtuosity of Ian Anderson.

At first, it seemed curious to me that such a vibrant music would evoke a “Sunday feeling”, since that day is associated with the idea of rest. However, for several categories, including those working in entertainment, Sunday is one of the busiest days.

I believe that the lyrics of the song connect with this, say, “other side” of Sunday, with the idea of a perfect day to get out of the routine and do something really special. My last Sunday, for example, was quite lively. The chat about Jazz and Literature that I led in a traditional bookstore in the city was a success!

It is indeed a great to realize that there is a representative amount of people interested in leaving home on a Sunday afternoon to exchange ideas and talk about music and books. Who are those people?

Well, the audience was as varied as possible. It included, fo instance, a three-year-old girl who behaved exceptionally well and a white-haired gentleman who did not know how to turn off his cell phone, which, of course, kept on ringing, not only disturbing the audience, but also providing a very welcome comic relief.

What a lovely feeling to be there, joining in with the numerous events in 195 (hurray!) countries in order to celebrate International Jazz Day. And what a beautiful congregation!

Jazz is freedom, jazz is inclusion and a lot of other great things worth living for, like a lovely Sunday afternoon with friends.

Be seeing you!

G. F.

Some of my guests

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Since 2017 (with the exception of the years 2020 and 2021) I have been a partner of the International Jazz Day, which means that I create local events around the jazz theme on April 30th and they are included on the official page of IJD. Local events are not necessarily music events. Last year, for example, the event was a masterclass on the links between jazz and comics, interspersed with live performed songs.

This year the concept is similar. I will talk about Jazz & Literature. The lecture format (well, I might sing some parts of mentioned tunes a cappella, to better illustrate a passage, but nothing more than that) made me think that, compared to the hybrid version of words and music, the event this year would be less attractive to the general public. And I was totally wrong.

In fact, the event this year has gained much more attention and momentum, so to speak, and I not only talking about “likes” and “shares” in socials. This time, for the first time, the official social media profiles is co-hosting my event on Facebook! Okay, I know that a year ago people were a lot less open to face-to-face events than they are now. Even so, something tells me that the fundamental difference is in the exchange of the word “comics” for “literature”.

I have been researching graphic art (including comics, editorial cartoons and graphic novels) since 2012 and, from my point of view, this field of knowledge had already overcome the prejudice of being considered a “minor art”, “children’s thing” (in the bad sense of the expression) and other absurdities. When, however, I mentioned my suspicions to a researcher friend, he was adamant: “Comics are still considered a sub-form of literature, while jazz is supposed to be a appreciated by the elite”.

Funny, because prejudice and snobism are actually on the opposite side of what jazz represents. If you listen to jazz because you think it makes you look sophisticated and intellectual, then you have probably not aquired the most basic information about the genre. Jazz has nothing to do with being part of “a select few”, whatever that publicity line may be able to sell. Jazz is not about pretending. It is about being and feeling.

And you know what is even funnier? Record covers are among the first representations of jazz and guess who were the pioneering creators of covers for jazz records? Illustrators, posters, graphic artists. Which means that jazz is, in a way, as far as chronology is concerned, more connected to the despised comics than its rich cousin, literature.

Perhaps this information will surprise the audience and help them form a more enlightened opinion of the greatness of jazz. If that is the case, I will consider my mission accomplished and my event a resounding success.

Anyway, I just wanted to invite you who might be in Rio by the 30th, or who migh know people around to my event. You can check out the poster here, as well as my past events. Celebrate the date!

Be seeing you!

G. F.