solo music and art http://www.carinadowning.com/
music from The Clouds (the band i sing and play piano in) www.thecloudsmusic.net
Also, some music I really like from a few other people:
(not really experimental and maybe you’ve already heard of all of these people but if not check ’em out)
Mountain Man http://mountainman.bandcamp.com/
Little Joy http://www.myspace.com/littlejoymusic
Os Novos Baianos http://www.myspace.com/novosbaianos
Joanna Newsom http://www.dragcity.com/artists/joanna-newsom
Beach House http://www.myspace.com/beachhousemusic
Monthly Archives: January 2011
solo music and art http://www.carinadowning.com/
Hey, I presented this Collage as part of the workshop.
It’s between Chico Buarque’s Rosa dos Ventos & NOFX’s Seeing Double at the Triple Rock. I owe myself now a live and/or recorded studio version.
Thanks and best wishes to everyone.
To get in touch around here first time http://glerm.devolts.org/, I would like to focus on some few links, just to start a sharing of thoughts that I think that have some dialogue with issues thar emerge from “we live in the same city” issues…
1) some of my tunes to listen when reading: http://soundcloud.com/organismo/tracks
2) compilation of texts about “Noise and Capitalism”: http://www.arteleku.net/audiolab/noise_capitalism.pdf
3) “Aos amigos, vastos desconhecidos”: http://finetanks.com/records/ribeiro/GNOISE_0.11.pdf
4) And for start some conversation with Tongva (octavio told me that you were looking for us natives of the city and some lost roots) ,
a) http://vimeo.com/1901207 the Xondaro Guarani rising powers.
c) CryptoForest: http://cryptoforest.blogspot.com/
Moviment dos Sem Satélite (the Sateliteless Movement – http://devolts.org/msst )
Artisans of bits and volts, humanist poets, nomadic scientists – where are we going? I trust in the pulse of your steps, our revolution is the next second, and the constant challenge is not to surrender to the conformity of being entertained or entertaining: distracting the fact that we want to live beyond history, walls, banks, genetic similarity. We want an ecosystem that is worth of all this Prometheic pyrotechinic – this being, which is supposed to be Sapiens. Some intelligent symbiosis to keep this flame heating an harmonic environment.
But, if today we still looking at some of us marching for a piece of land to survive or alienating their most creative instincts in a desperate search for exist inside a culture of self-destructive consumption, we have to ask: What’s the role of those sheltered and fed in thinking about an autonomy in knowledge and information transmition for those efforts that wants revert this pulsion of humanity self-destructive greed?
The conjecture of this manifesto is inside a function pointing to a cracking sparkle at the horizon: The day we will be able to build our first handmade satellite and send it to this sidereal space wich is already full of corporative and governamental devices. Will our satellite be able to transform our networks in something more autonomous? Or we have to re-think all technocracy to reach that by a tottaly different path? How?
We’re more than technocracy guinea pigs!
Dreaming and dancing: the march of the Satelitteless..
Incredible photo that Julie took at the 6:00 PM fountain. The three glowing blue signs read “Figueroa”, “Riverside” and “San Fernando” – clearly visible in the full-sized photo (which is 12 MP)
(adam cahan speaking)
Hi everyone! Here are some reflections of mine on the (excellent) class as a whole, and some of what I got out of it.
The beating heart of this course is desire. It is unknown what desires brought Octavio Camargo to Los Angeles and The Outpost for Contemporary Art, or instigated our connection with Chico Melo in Curitiba, or sparked “Experimental Composition and Popular Music,” nurturing it into something living and ready to speak, but it is clear which desires fed it. Understanding is a type of desire. Communication and knowledge are desires. These are some of the desires that drew us together and sustained our class. Fittingly, there was a titular mating of one stereotypical object of desire, pop music, with another stereotypical object of the intellect, experimentation. Alternatively, our class’s title explodes the myth of their distinction.
The counterpoint to our desire is time. The lack of time, the desire for more time, the creation of time out of desire. During class time was appropriately treated as an inexhaustible commodity. Because of our class’s limited time it was important to disregard schedule and spend time wastefully, flinging tens of minutes to the misshapen masses occupying the present, chatting, acting as audience for dull or intriguing segues, making sacrifices to the natural inefficiency of unscheduled activity, and collectively engaging in the continuously abortive, perpetual task of not only teleconferencing with our classmates and co-teacher in Curitiba, but also laboring to create value from our Chico’s high-latency, semi-comprehensible Portuguese theorizations.
Their complete translation was an obvious and perhaps necessary impossibility with the time our class was allotted. Regarding our fellow classmates in Brazil, time was key. We synchronized our time, became unsynchronized, and spilled time profligately in the establishment of a fresh or barely stale communication. In the Outpost we engaged in a philosophical experiment simulating the wasteful essence of every new encounter. Foreign peoples, new devices, alien concepts and unforeseen experiences all require the boundless sowing of time in order to grow into a graceful thing. Allowing for the “happy accident,” as articulated by Chico on the day of our inauguration, is a necessary prerequisite for any healthy relationship with the unknown.
One ostensible subject of our class – a person’s individual, compositional voice – lied untheorized and undiscussed in any sustained, direct fashion by those of us in the Northern Hemisphere. But the experience of this course as a whole – its aggregate – encapsulates the momentary energy involved in self-expressive composition. The ‘creative moment’ was metastasized, and can now be properly sliced and displayed. There were only a few, gauzy layers of critique, editing, and revision – the external coverings of work, beautifying preparations undertaken for a thing’s public exposure, which also serve to hide our own creative bodies from ourselves. By tracing the wake of our class – digitally, socially, and in memory, there is an additional map pointing to the natural environment of an individual voice. My records of this experience form a document advising me when to run around naked and when to put on my clothes.
Los Angeles River
El Rio de Nuestra Seniora la Reyna de Porciúncula
Sanja Madre (Mother Ditch)
Los Angeles Flooding
Zoot Suit Riots
Abraham Lincoln Heights Jail
Ghost of the White Lady
Not A Cornfield
Written and Read by Carmelo Alvarez at Confluence Plaza Fountains on 1/29/2011
Dedicated to Day Laborers and Outpost labor of love.
Well, this is all about connections so…