HEADING OUT! Omnia mea mecum porto / All that is mine I carry with me / Back in 14-16 days! Ciao for now, Cliff
JIM-JAM, for sabar (or djembe) orchestra
w/ 3 voices, one MASTER DRUMMER, and two choirs, left & right
master drummer part pdf (color dynamics) http://bit.ly/1cHZ1sI
webscore CS | JIM-JAM (page 1 of 17) http://bit.ly/U4MdFT
score pdf http://bit.ly/Qjk5Qu
parts pdf http://bit.ly/RZGroy
performance model mp3 http://bit.ly/U4Mt87
FOR SOME UNKNOWN reason I do not wish to explore in depth right now, this poem is the one RILKE poem I always think of when I’m hit with gut feelings about Switzerland. Switzerland is a place with which I have an almost storybook—if sometimes metaphysically troubled—relation. Perhaps it has something to do with what I perceive as the contradiction between the measureless magnificence of the Alps and its indigenous mountain farming culture that I know so well, and the at times so utterly petty and mean-spirited ‘orderliness’ of contemporary Swiss city culture and politics. Whatever the case may be, the RILKE piece makes good protective armor! As does the spring rain on my basecamp tent of the header, and the native Redtail Hawk warning cries at the end.
PHOTO: Mt. Cotradiction, target practice with live rounds, shooting at a glacier [sic], URNERLAND
Test & Photo are at: http://picture-poems.com/rilke/features/mt-contradiction.html
Preferring the word, STEP, instead of ‘SYLLABLE,’ these little poems are all donce-like variations within the same theme-space and pattern of movement. [PHOTO: Urnerland, breaking trail, APRIL, the Alps]
Texts & photo are at:
Language’s like a bell, all words
ringing as one. One “tap”
& we hear ‘inclinate’ doesn’t fit
this sound of the whole.
Mala herba cito crescit / Bad weeds grow fast.
This is true of “cultural weeds,” too.
How are the Arts to be self-correcting?
THE WAY I see it, there are many rooms, chambers, halls, gardens, and even perhaps unknown hidden places, in what I think of as the Palace of Poetry. They all have their own distinct quality of light, of rhythm, of energy, of the movement of sense and sound. THIS, is the visionary room, with a rather surreal, wild, sempre-forte, fat-tire bike ride with a friend sitting crosswise on the cargo carrier through the crowded streets of AMSTERDAM BY NIGHT. All the great Transcendentalist are there, all of North America’s brightest spiritual lights. They even manage to run populist neo-con proto-fascist, Wim Wilders, out of town. Ah, Amsterdam, there’s no place like it! The musical coda was recorded in an old church-movie theater in AMSTERDAM, with the ASKO Ensemble playing “Nightwind,” a part of a piece of mine called PHAROS.
The text of AMSTERDAM BY NIGHT is at: http://bit.ly/o7AzoW
These are two improvisations I first did along an Eagle Creek basecamp.
One is about the metaphysics of RELATIONSHIP; The other, is about TRUST, a word that has become highly significant for many people in a highly uncertain world.
BY WAY OF footnote, I might just mention here that the history of the word, TRUST, goes back to an ensemble of shared Indoeuropean meanings rooted in the idea of CONSTANCY, which includes both “truth” and “trees.”
TRUST IS…is dedicated to my friend, Bruno Müller, the amazingly talented climber, writer, mountain guide, and finder of crystals, at home in the pure granite heart and center of the high European Alps.
TRUST IS …
… for Bruno
Trust is…the pure, clear water we drink
from a mountain stream, without doubt,
Trust is…the simple house of wood we build around
a deeply rooted tree, bedstead still standing on
rough granite, unmoved, awaiting the pilgrim’s
Trust is…the rope between two climbers,
double anchor of friendship we know will
hold the falls that are sure to come.
ENGLISH & GERMAN text is at: http://bit.ly/W2nynV