Thursday, November 1, 2012
YouTube video featuring Jacco Muller accompaniment
Just received this incredibly touching youtube video from Jacco Muller. Even though I don't speak Dutch, and using a translation website definitely doesn't come close to what is written, the music speaks...
Monday, October 1, 2012
WTTD TV Interview of Jacco Muller and Victor Ghannam
Jacco and Victor were recently in Detroit to record this TV interview -- check it out, there's backstory plus lots of music to listen to. Enjoy!
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
CD RELEASE! JACCO MULLER AND VICTOR GHANNAM: "PALACE OF DREAMS" REALLY IS A PALACE OF DREAMS
How happy was I to receive in the mail this weekend a precious packet from my dear guitarist friend, Jacco Muller: inside was a hot-off-the-press copy of his latest CD, “Palace of Dreams”! What a wonderful gift, both personal -- addressed to me -- and universal -- released to all of us.
A year-and-a-half ago I wrote a post here about my friendship with Jacco and his last CD, “Vientos del Desierto.” http://juergablog.blogspot.com/2011/01/jacco-muller-guitarist-and-composer.html On “Palace of Dreams,” Jacco again collaborates with Victor Ghannam, an amazingly talented American-born Palestinian oud player.
On “Palace” Victor adds the qanoun to the mix, as well as electric oud, while Jacco plays, of course, his one-of-a-kind, custom built flamenco guitar plus electric guitar.
I had goosebumps already just reading
that bit of instrument info inside the CD cover (beautifully designed by Jacco’s wife,
flamenco dancer/choreographer/instructor extraordinaire, Vida Peral, BTW).
Yes, I have permission from Jacco to post these images from the CD jacket, and, yes, you will have to buy a copy to feast your eyes on the imagery from the back cover. It instantly transported me from downtown LA to, wow, somewhere so Mediterranean.
This CD cover captures perfectly the atmosphere created by the music. Listening to these tracks is like passing through layers of luxurious silk curtains, each one unique and gorgeous and sumptuous, and each one inviting you to take another step to feel the next one against your skin. Even the order of the pieces travels from welcoming and party-like to mesmerizing, then ominous on to contemplative, and finally out to an actual emotional release. It is a real journey.
The collaboration between the two masters has matured, deepened, become richer and tastier. While “Vientos” (in hindsight, really) sounds more like flamenco infused with Middle Eastern undertones, “Palace” allows the two genres to become much more seamless. On top of that, the electric instruments lend themselves to rock moments, while lyrics in Spanish, English, French, and Arabic further blur the lines between cultural influences. At the same time, the individual flavors of each language, each genre, and each artist are not lost; in fact, the individual flavors are distinct, appreciable, and truly enhanced.
I know I've got some mixed metaphors going on here, what with fabrics and foods, but that is what this album has evoked in me -- sensations as varied as touch and taste, sound and smell, memory and dreamstate. And all of that is exactly what should exist in a palace of dreams, isn't it?
To listen to samples of each track, head over to
http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/jaccomullerandvictorghan
where you can also buy the cd directly. I love cdbaby.com because they allow indie musicians to keep most of the money they directly make from these cd sales. Please support these incredible artists and do your soul a favor. Enter into the “Palace of Dreams.”
A year-and-a-half ago I wrote a post here about my friendship with Jacco and his last CD, “Vientos del Desierto.” http://juergablog.blogspot.com/2011/01/jacco-muller-guitarist-and-composer.html On “Palace of Dreams,” Jacco again collaborates with Victor Ghannam, an amazingly talented American-born Palestinian oud player.
On “Palace” Victor adds the qanoun to the mix, as well as electric oud, while Jacco plays, of course, his one-of-a-kind, custom built flamenco guitar plus electric guitar.
I had goosebumps already just reading
that bit of instrument info inside the CD cover (beautifully designed by Jacco’s wife,
flamenco dancer/choreographer/instructor extraordinaire, Vida Peral, BTW).
Yes, I have permission from Jacco to post these images from the CD jacket, and, yes, you will have to buy a copy to feast your eyes on the imagery from the back cover. It instantly transported me from downtown LA to, wow, somewhere so Mediterranean.
This CD cover captures perfectly the atmosphere created by the music. Listening to these tracks is like passing through layers of luxurious silk curtains, each one unique and gorgeous and sumptuous, and each one inviting you to take another step to feel the next one against your skin. Even the order of the pieces travels from welcoming and party-like to mesmerizing, then ominous on to contemplative, and finally out to an actual emotional release. It is a real journey.
The collaboration between the two masters has matured, deepened, become richer and tastier. While “Vientos” (in hindsight, really) sounds more like flamenco infused with Middle Eastern undertones, “Palace” allows the two genres to become much more seamless. On top of that, the electric instruments lend themselves to rock moments, while lyrics in Spanish, English, French, and Arabic further blur the lines between cultural influences. At the same time, the individual flavors of each language, each genre, and each artist are not lost; in fact, the individual flavors are distinct, appreciable, and truly enhanced.
I know I've got some mixed metaphors going on here, what with fabrics and foods, but that is what this album has evoked in me -- sensations as varied as touch and taste, sound and smell, memory and dreamstate. And all of that is exactly what should exist in a palace of dreams, isn't it?
To listen to samples of each track, head over to
http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/jaccomullerandvictorghan
where you can also buy the cd directly. I love cdbaby.com because they allow indie musicians to keep most of the money they directly make from these cd sales. Please support these incredible artists and do your soul a favor. Enter into the “Palace of Dreams.”
Thursday, August 30, 2012
SEVILLANAS: HOW TO FIND A HUSBAND AND THEN SAVE ON MARRIAGE COUNSELING FEES
Sevillanas brought my future husband directly into my personal space. And, for better or for worse, Sevillanas always seems to keep us together.
So many young Spaniards learn Sevillanas from their grandparents, aunts, uncles. So many Spanish women buy a frilly new Sevillanas dress for Semana Santa – Holy Week, the week before Easter – every year. So many foreign flamenco dancers learn Sevillanas as their first official “choreography.”
If you want to see what Sevillanas looks like, watch this gorgeous film by Carlos Saura:
Every time I watch this film, I cry when I see those little kids at the beginning with all of their attitude. And then I cry harder during the next scene, when the elders sing and dance their hearts out in their orthopedic shoes. I was already in my mid-thirties the first time I laid eyes on that segment, and I knew instantly that that was what I wanted to be when I would ever grow up.
Why? Why was I so moved by this “simple,” often-taken-for-granted, traditional dance? Why does it hold such power over people? Why does it withstand not only the proverbial test of time, but, indeed, the test of life itself? Why do people dance Sevillanas for their entire lives?
We were rehearsing for a show that the company would have to travel for, and Teresa Cullen, the director of Los Preferidos Spanish Dance Company, which I had been asked to join a year and a half earlier, suddenly put me together with one of the guys in the company for a big, group number rendition of Sevillanas. Three squares of 8 dancers per square. As she was walking around the studio creating partnerships, I was strategically placing myself into a position that would make it as likely as possible to be paired up with this aloof guy, this guy strangely named El Polaco, this guy whom I had admired from afar for all this time but who seemed to outright ignore me. Whatever, right?!
But when a girl wants something, she can get pretty crafty. And so, the subtle maneuvering within the space. Sure enough, when Teresa got to our square she took barely a second to size us up, and, voila, my secret wish was granted! Yay! Uh, oh, but now I had to actually dance with the guy. Like most of the other company members, he had been at this flamenco thing way longer than I had. Gulp. Maybe I’m not so crafty after all. Maybe I’m just an idiot. Maybe – oh, no, music is starting, crap, time to… dance.
I felt completely exposed during that run through of that dance, I could feel El Polaco looking directly into the suddenly unhidden corners of my existence somehow. As we swirled around each other, close together and
then far apart and close again, I fully realized that it was the first time that a man was looking inside -- and I wasn’t afraid.
The director and everyone in that studio felt our chemistry immediately, and we would end up partnering each other in many other dances for many, many shows. Each of us is a pretty fiery personality, and we spend a lot of rehearsal time fighting – fighting over who is out of compas (rhythm), who is invading the other person’s space, who has the footwork all wrong. And with our personal, romantic relationship added to the equation, well, I guess all hell tends to break loose.
One night we arrived for a show at a restaurant that we performed at regularly, and we had been arguing about something-or-other all day, and it had continued during the car ride over. The owners of the restaurant
knew us well and always treated us well, too. They could tell something was terribly wrong the moment we walked in the door, and they started trying to counsel us – after all, they didn’t want us to blow their dinner and show, it was going to be packed as usual. I don’t think even a trained and licensed marriage counselor could have helped us that evening; we were still furious at each other by the time we were in our costumes and standing in the hallway, ready to burst onstage.
We always opened that show with Sevillanas – it’s exciting, with its tension between fast and slow, the feminine and the masculine, the teasing and the succumbing. That night was no different. Yet it is such a
crystal clear memory because it was so significant. As soon as we faced each other and the music coaxed us to enter into each other’s essences with that first step towards each other – all of the anger literally melted away. Problems, solved. Issues, erased. We learned a lesson: Sevillanas would always heal us.
Our marriage is a fairly rocky one, partly because of our personalities and partly because we’ve been dealt some very hard blows in our life together. Very hard. “For richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health” – oh, yeah, we know all of those things firsthand, and those things have come pretty close to, you know, “tearing us asunder.” Several times. But when it gets really bad, one of us at some point will remember to say, “Hey, how about a little Sevillanas?” The other person is usually reluctant (especially if that “other person” is me), wanting to hang onto the grouchiness. “Just one copla.” (A copla is one of the four sections of the whole dance.) The music starts, and with a heavy sigh we face each other, waiting through the intro of the song. But then we each take that first step – it’s a step towards each other – and then the step away,
and then the step towards again… we enter into each other’s very personal space, emotionally exposed and raw, but safe, enveloped and even cushioned within the tradition that, I believe, has healed the many people who step those steps of Sevillanas.
I will be teaching the first copla of Sevillanas starting Sept 7 in Koreatown in Los Angeles. You do not need to bring a partner, but if you do, you will be on your way to earning free classes! If you arrive solo or sola, well, who knows whom you might meet? After all, it’s Sevillanas...
So many young Spaniards learn Sevillanas from their grandparents, aunts, uncles. So many Spanish women buy a frilly new Sevillanas dress for Semana Santa – Holy Week, the week before Easter – every year. So many foreign flamenco dancers learn Sevillanas as their first official “choreography.”
If you want to see what Sevillanas looks like, watch this gorgeous film by Carlos Saura:
Every time I watch this film, I cry when I see those little kids at the beginning with all of their attitude. And then I cry harder during the next scene, when the elders sing and dance their hearts out in their orthopedic shoes. I was already in my mid-thirties the first time I laid eyes on that segment, and I knew instantly that that was what I wanted to be when I would ever grow up.
Why? Why was I so moved by this “simple,” often-taken-for-granted, traditional dance? Why does it hold such power over people? Why does it withstand not only the proverbial test of time, but, indeed, the test of life itself? Why do people dance Sevillanas for their entire lives?
We were rehearsing for a show that the company would have to travel for, and Teresa Cullen, the director of Los Preferidos Spanish Dance Company, which I had been asked to join a year and a half earlier, suddenly put me together with one of the guys in the company for a big, group number rendition of Sevillanas. Three squares of 8 dancers per square. As she was walking around the studio creating partnerships, I was strategically placing myself into a position that would make it as likely as possible to be paired up with this aloof guy, this guy strangely named El Polaco, this guy whom I had admired from afar for all this time but who seemed to outright ignore me. Whatever, right?!
But when a girl wants something, she can get pretty crafty. And so, the subtle maneuvering within the space. Sure enough, when Teresa got to our square she took barely a second to size us up, and, voila, my secret wish was granted! Yay! Uh, oh, but now I had to actually dance with the guy. Like most of the other company members, he had been at this flamenco thing way longer than I had. Gulp. Maybe I’m not so crafty after all. Maybe I’m just an idiot. Maybe – oh, no, music is starting, crap, time to… dance.
I felt completely exposed during that run through of that dance, I could feel El Polaco looking directly into the suddenly unhidden corners of my existence somehow. As we swirled around each other, close together and
then far apart and close again, I fully realized that it was the first time that a man was looking inside -- and I wasn’t afraid.
The director and everyone in that studio felt our chemistry immediately, and we would end up partnering each other in many other dances for many, many shows. Each of us is a pretty fiery personality, and we spend a lot of rehearsal time fighting – fighting over who is out of compas (rhythm), who is invading the other person’s space, who has the footwork all wrong. And with our personal, romantic relationship added to the equation, well, I guess all hell tends to break loose.
One night we arrived for a show at a restaurant that we performed at regularly, and we had been arguing about something-or-other all day, and it had continued during the car ride over. The owners of the restaurant
knew us well and always treated us well, too. They could tell something was terribly wrong the moment we walked in the door, and they started trying to counsel us – after all, they didn’t want us to blow their dinner and show, it was going to be packed as usual. I don’t think even a trained and licensed marriage counselor could have helped us that evening; we were still furious at each other by the time we were in our costumes and standing in the hallway, ready to burst onstage.
We always opened that show with Sevillanas – it’s exciting, with its tension between fast and slow, the feminine and the masculine, the teasing and the succumbing. That night was no different. Yet it is such a
crystal clear memory because it was so significant. As soon as we faced each other and the music coaxed us to enter into each other’s essences with that first step towards each other – all of the anger literally melted away. Problems, solved. Issues, erased. We learned a lesson: Sevillanas would always heal us.
Our marriage is a fairly rocky one, partly because of our personalities and partly because we’ve been dealt some very hard blows in our life together. Very hard. “For richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health” – oh, yeah, we know all of those things firsthand, and those things have come pretty close to, you know, “tearing us asunder.” Several times. But when it gets really bad, one of us at some point will remember to say, “Hey, how about a little Sevillanas?” The other person is usually reluctant (especially if that “other person” is me), wanting to hang onto the grouchiness. “Just one copla.” (A copla is one of the four sections of the whole dance.) The music starts, and with a heavy sigh we face each other, waiting through the intro of the song. But then we each take that first step – it’s a step towards each other – and then the step away,
and then the step towards again… we enter into each other’s very personal space, emotionally exposed and raw, but safe, enveloped and even cushioned within the tradition that, I believe, has healed the many people who step those steps of Sevillanas.
I will be teaching the first copla of Sevillanas starting Sept 7 in Koreatown in Los Angeles. You do not need to bring a partner, but if you do, you will be on your way to earning free classes! If you arrive solo or sola, well, who knows whom you might meet? After all, it’s Sevillanas...
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