The wordless transmission
between the artist and the audience.
Drifting aimlessly from the record
player, the sounds of the improvising
musician. Scuffs, scratches and scrapes,
where is he going with this?
In the inferno of disquiet
faintly emerges a sound
that is not the inferno. The
musician nurtures it, gives it
space, lets it grow. The inferno
fades to dust leaving the
improv to stand alone,
coruscating from the record
player, gradually fluttering
away into the air.
Inspired by Italo Calvino’s final passage in Invisible Cities and Motoharu Yoshizawas improvisation “Music 4” on the album “Play Unlimited” (P.S.F).
Honks, squawks, screeches
blow from the horns
rising and fading.
Feedback is welcomed, particularly on the middle poem. I am not sure if I have used the inspiration of Calvino correctly and have instead lifted and altered his words slightly. Any feedback on this and all the poems would be greatly appreciated.
The first poem really makes me think of wind instruments, I always think of the flute as a singer who whispers the words in your ears.
The second poem made me think of Thelonious Monk, the way he plays the piano in that percussive manner. But I did look up Motoharu Yoshizawa, the piece has a very experimental quality to it. I love how the Japanese interpret jazz. Because one does think where is he going with this?
Hmm…not sure about the third poem. It reminds me of the bebop form of jazz a bit.
I really like that you’re working on poetry, not enough people do. Keep it up 🙂
Firstly thank you for the feedback. Much appreciated.
Yeah the third one is a bit iffy. It was meant to be a little longer, but then I ran out noises I figured a saxophone could make. It also seems a little fractured, and has harsh tones as well. I’ll probably work on it a bit more. Also thanks for reminding me about Monk. Its been awhile since I listened to him. Should get on that. Yoshizawa is amazing. Its great hearing him working on an extended piece. He always reminds me why I love improvised music. When it goes wrong its car crash. But when it goes right those serendipitous moments in music are so amazing to listen to.
Again thanks for the feedback. I really don’t get enough of it.
My pleasure, feedback can be helpful. It can help you see things from another perspective, but I’ve had feedback from people that did not really understand and it’s made it worse. So whatever feedback I give, I’ll try to make it constructive (operative word try).
I’ve always thought that each creative piece has it’s own life. That edits create a whole new piece. Like jazz when it goes off the rails it can be a great thing.
Also a lot of great jazz reminds me of the sounds of the city. The honks and yelling, the buildings being constructed, the babies crying, the bings of the elevator. I think of lot of the older music borrows those elements. In a way, whether it was intentional or not, you touched on it.