Before waking up - a song for Pati

Leo never had a beard;
when you sing, birds will nestle in his hat.

On tombstones, fingers run over the names
and then
the spirits run over your skin - weak sky -
cover it with your mouth - now it rains -
echoos come for shelter.

Barefoot in the hills - sun is watching
now run
now stand
send your song to the clouds -
the village is abandoned - stones are
yellow - warm as bread.

Dressed in whispers we walk through
empty houses - follow - follow - run
ahead - an old grammaphone is
picturing home -
home is empty - home is Egypt.

Woodblocks grow from your hand - speak -
and leave the room as night leaves the
earth.
She comes back, and morning light washes
her away.

Leo never had a beard;
when you sing, birds will come from
the mountains in the south.






Pati lives in an old shoe factory - small factory, big house - at ten minutes walk from the town centre of Vigevano, and 2 euro's distance from Milan.
She organizes concerts.
She sings.
She performs.

Her Cd can be bought at www.aferecords.com
Do yourself and her a favor.
Organise a holiday in sound,
buy her cd.

madame P. www.aferecords.com/madamep

Transmediale Berlin and their no-budget policy - a letter and an answer

Introduction :

This is the story of a mistake, my mistake. The truth was only a few clicks away. I assumed that clubtransmediale was a part of transmediale. This is not so.
Dr. Andreas Broeckmann, and Jan, programmer of CTM, were both very patient and respectfull in their answers.
Club is run by hardworking people, who also put their own money. Another no-budget organisation doing the best they can.

My apologies go out to Andreas and Jan and their collegues



Letter:

I visited Berlin two times last year. The first time it was summer. A friend gave me his bicycle, so that i could make long rides, which seemed even longer, because the bike had a reluctant pedal. Also the saddle had an awkward position - somehow it resembled the head of a dog scratching its ear. But I was brave and on my sonic safari I arrived at the Allee der Kosmonauten as well as in Wedding where streets listen to African names and a 'brum' was located.

The second time the golden light of October opened up the city in all its grandeur. Trees turned baroque. The parks and the green along the waterways were full of citizens who took the last sunbath of the year.

I - icon of the heart - Berlin. I hope to go back as soon as possible. There is a sense of discipline and dignity. There is wide open spaces that on bluskyed days become portals to outerworldliness. The buildings of the powerful retreat in transparency, and only a few blocks away, in the popular neighbourhoods, the houses tell tales of rainy days.

When I first entered the website of transmediale I encountered the same sense of discipline and dignity. Here was an organisation that had contemporary, but also historic visibility: You'd only had to climb to the top and you'd be able to whisper in Mozart's ear. Leave a tape in a leaden box, it will be found in two centuries from now.

Berlin attracts people from all over the world to come and live there;
Transmediale appeared to me as a stronghold in the world of soundicians - it made and makes the impression to offer serious judgement to their works, and - very important - offer a financial translation to that judgement: an artist fee.

These days I am busy organising a tour. One of our four soundicians has to come from over the Ocean. There will be expenses for all of us.We also want to play every evening, and not only the venues who work with some-budget. No-budget venues can be played thanks to the some-budget friends.

I had the mail address of Club TransMediale (CTM). They organise concerts once a month; they seem to be an all-year-round-extension of the annual Transmediale Festival. I expected CTM to be one of the some-budget venues, given the organisational structure of Transmediale, and the help of their sponsors.

I sent a mail to the programmer of CTM. His answer came. He wanted us. But they wouldn't pay us. We could get the money from the entrance fee, which would be 3 Euro.

My observation is one of curiosity.I would like to ask Dr.Andreas Broeckman, artistic director ofTransmediale one question."Why doesn't CTM pay?"

with respect for your work,
and best regards,

Rinus van Alebeek


Here's the answer of Andreas Broeckman, in German.

He states that my attack is misplaced. I should have researched first to find out about the financial situation of both organisations, it is Transmediale und CTM.

1. CTM and Transmediale are two different Festivals

2. The CTM-festival gets organised with little money and much dedication of the organisers (selfexploitment Andreas writes), where the impossible becomes possible. The CTM -festival is the best festival for adventurous music in europe.

He is not sure if rejecting an offer to play at CTM is in my interest. And doubts if somebody is interested in this problem. Everybody knows how the financial situation is, in this branche.

The CTM-festival is an independent festival, organised witth its own financial means and its own philosophie. Form outside it might look like its linked to Transmediale, but this is not so.
CTM has its own label DISK.
Transmediale is glad to collaborate with CTM in what is an unique way to present art, electronical music and digital culture.

"lieber rinus,die gedanken sind frei, und das wort ist es ebenso. das enthebt dich nicht der pflicht, im falle solcher anschuldigungen zu recherchieren,wen du eigentlich attackierst, und wie die oekonomische situation derjenigen ist, mit denen du zu tun hast.

1. sind transmediale und CTM/Disk tatsaechlich zwei verschiedene festivals und organisationen, weshalb du dich mit deinem anliegen anden CTM wenden musst.

2. organisiert der CTM sein festival mit geringsten mitteln und macht etwas unmoegliches moeglich, naemlich das beste festival fuer abenteuerliche musik in europa mit bescheidenem budget und heftiger selbstausbeutung; wenn du da als kuenstler unter den angebotenen bedingungen nicht dabei sein willst, kannst du das natuerlich ablehnen - eine solche entscheidung wird jeder respektieren; ich bin aber nicht sicher, ob es in deinem interesse ist, wenn du auch noch oeffentlich machst, dass du eine einladung zum CTM ausschlaegst; und ich bezweifle, dass dies im uebrigen irgend jemanden interessiert,denn dass die oekonomie in dieser branche prekaer ist, das kannst du auf diesem wege zwar nochmal illustrieren, aber doch wirklich nicht mehr!

herzlichen gruss, und viel spass im CTM.06!-

'Der Club Transmediale (CTM) findet wie in den Vorjahren als eigenständige Veranstaltung statt, zeitgleich mit der transmediale.Von außen werden beide oft als eine Sache wahrgenommen, weil beide sich natürlich vom Programm her sehr gut ergänzen. Der Club wird aberganz unabhängig von einem eigenen Team und mit eigener Programmphilosophie entwickelt, organisiert und finanziert, das seit einigen Monaten unter dem neuen Label 'Disk' firmiert.
Wir stimmen uns mit dem Club Transmediale regelmäßig ab und suchen nach inhaltlichen und praktischen Schnittstellen, weil wir natürlich auch gegenseitig von der Gleichzeitigkeit profitieren - bei den Künstlern,wie auch beim Publikum, das aus ganz Europa nach Berlin kommt, um die beiden Festivals zu erleben. Wir freuen uns, dass wir gemeinsam mit Disk/CTM hier in Berlin die Möglichkeit haben, Kunst, elektronische Musik und digitale Kultur in einer solchen Konzentration vorstellen können - eine in Europa ziemlich einmalige Gelegenheit."


transmediale: www.transmediale.de

clubtransmediale: www.clubtransmediale.de

Mozart reconstructed - a letter to Ars Acustica

The trio is a quartet, but hardly anyone knows it. I join in from my kitchen with an old radio on my lap. it transmits a program from 'studio akustische kunst', that started its transmissions in the year of my birth: years will pass; the unlived memories form an interval of rooms with a view.

Rembrandt is the oldest one. He was born four hundred years ago. Go to Amsterdam and visit his house. Everything is there as he has left it. Maybe it is put in a different order. Still, the objects that made up his composition are all there. They know. They know because Rembrandt went bankrupt. He had to sell his house and posessions and that's why they had a list.

Mozart is a bit younger. He was born two hundred and fifty years ago.Go to Austria and listen, or eat, because his name is also linked to a chocolate ball. There will be chandeliers burning in the concerthouse. The radio will turn itself of, after having to play 'Eine Kleine Nachtmusik' for the one thousandth time that day.

Mozart liked best when his house was full of guests, that were shouting, drinking, singing, telling jokes, playing billiard, run the stairs and chase the maids. He needed this acoustic disorder to enter in the silence of composing. Maybe, by reconstructing these rumours, his music looses its sacricity and becomes a portrait of a young man as a composer.

The third guest is Albert Hoffman. It's his one hundreth birthday. You don't have to plunge in the deepest parts of your mind to take a trip to Amsterdam or Austria. Nor do you have to take acid to turn on the radio, tune in with the audio flow and drop out of everyday's acustic reality.

And that brings me back to my kitchen. I wait. My radio suffers from a loose contact.

ars acustica: http://www.kunstradio.at/EBU7ebu.html

Studio Akustische Kunst: http://www.wdr.de/radio/wdr3/sendung_inhalt.phtml?sendung=WDR+3+open%3A+Studio+Akustische+Kunst

Radio Warehouse (a proposal for fundresearchers)

All the world is my guest on my little radio. Yesterday a man onItalian radio came to tell me a short story - I hardly listen toItalian radio, it makes me sad, but this time I resisted for half anhour.He told me that owners of warehouses in Austria had noticed a downfallin the spirits of their employees: over the last weeks they had heard a few jingle bells too many. The problem was not playing music in warehouses, but to have recognizable music, that would nestle itself warmly in the ears, and accompany the workers on their way home, stay along the evening and sing them to sleep.

Well, well, I thought, wouldn't it be nice to play a warehouse? I mean, not a show or a performance or a sound-installation, no, the warehouse itself had to become the originator of sound, and most of all these sounds had to liberate the ears of those who worked there.I immediately had the image of De Bijenkorf in Amsterdam before my eyes, a nice open structure, where you float from one department in another, golden floodlights everywhere, sound wandering around freely.

I started wandering as well. How much preparation time would I need -what sounds would I choose - would I be able to go on for thirteen hours, like everyone else who worked there? I imagined that a month of preparation would do - walking around town to make Walkman recordings and gather difficult but not too difficult sounds, get voices from real radio, maybe TV, people talking, do some research via satellite,but also incorporate 30 seconds of songs our mums would like to sing along with, a draaiorgel to give a sense of homecoming.

Yes! All those silent sounds would occupy the warehouse one morning.People wouldn't take notice. But after a while someone would hear something different, stop shopping and start listening - some compulsory borderline shopper might come up to me and buy a cassette. And if the shopper stopped shopping, the people who worked there might as well stop selling: everyone would leave the building without paying. The alarm was just another part of the symphony.And outside it would rain rose petals; people would look at the warehouse - smiling - and ask themselves what is going on? because up there it was written in neon : PEACE ON EARS.