Sandstone and shale, bare rock.
La zagara, orange blossom flowers.
Eucalyptus, hibiscus,
green wooden shutters.
Your sister’s third-floor condo:
Knotted kilim rugs, shiny marble floors.
A silver candelabra is lighted.
Shuffling gait: Parkinson’s hand tremor.
Nonna Guiseppa’s voice, a soft, hoarse rasp:
in her confusion, she sees her
long-dead infant daughter.
Maroon crocheted shawl over shoulders.
Sapphire sea: volcanic Sicilia.
Red oleander, poisonous shrubs.
A stiff, spine-covered rind:
cactus pear […]
Filed under: Ilona Martonfi by akublik Date 30 May, 2011
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Rosetta Trio comes on like a quiet power
trio, one that presents melodic material
with aural elegance and no artifice.
~ Josh Jackson (NPR)
Yes, this is nice
unusually nice
Chamber-jazz ensemble,
intuitive all-string improv trio
With the nice woody
bass sound
(well oaked
Earthy, but organic lite
“equally alluring and askew”*
Cycling & circling
& still moving
forward
(trés nice
(ahh
(… […]
Filed under: Stephen Bett by akublik Date 26 May, 2011
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I play jazz-informed experimental
instrumental ambient rock music.
~ Cuong Vu
Sonic cries
ethereal, but with muscular
overtones (well cut)
—shadows in the space between
avant fusion & lyrical
soundscape
Young guy’s trumpet blazing
fast as any Di Meola
—pace power energy
(amazing embouchure)
Hard-driving rhythm section
à la Molvær, free avant
à la one Archie Shepp
back in the day
(as they so often say)
This inventive jazzer
can squeeze (& hold)
notes […]
Filed under: Stephen Bett by akublik Date 23 May, 2011
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A leaf of smoke is growing through a hole in the clouds.
I can see its reflections in the mirrors,
Hidden in far corners of my room.
The leaves of glass feel at home in the comfort of our flat,
And the pain of a distant tragedy
Becomes an ordinary performance
On the screen of their indifferent eyes.
A merciless fantasy.
~ Alan […]
Filed under: Alan Zhukovski by akublik Date 19 May, 2011
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Her bright brown eyes, first thing in the morning
Talk over dreams of people we didn’t know
Ourselves, or what we thought we were doing:
A guitar was playing then, and frogs singing
I looked at the slope of her chin, how she cupped
Strong coffee, her upper lip to mind the gap
(I love a fair exchange for the Lady […]
Filed under: Richard McCullough by akublik Date 16 May, 2011
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