Category: kaddish in two-part harmony
The Academic and the Musician. The academic immerses in Kaddish with thoughts of thinking rather than feeling—the emotions being too raw. The musician spends her time in making us feel, whether we want to or not. And making the music of kaddish. Making music kadosh. A flurry of emails ensue between the two. Their blogs lock horns, as do the writers themselves. They start a joint blog. They start a podcast.
A commitment to a year-long project has begun: a kaddish in two-part harmony.
A conversation among an anthropologist, a musician, and their audience on themes of death and dying, grief, ritual, the interplay between musician and listener.
two shape-shifters, one bed — and a kaddish for the undead
You probably know shape-shifters of your own, or you’re a shape-shifter yourself. T would say that of course you are. That you shape-shift every time you switch consciousness from say, your corporate self to your personal self. Your social self to your lover self. Your talking-to-mom on the phone self. To… Well, you get…
daily kaddish: thanksgiving, with flügelhorn and accordion
[powerpress] A Thanksgiving Kaddish recorded after the feast on flügelhorn with one of our dinner guests, David Mostardi, playing accordion.
daily kaddish: Alexander 310 triple horn
[powerpress] A farewell (I hope) to my Alexander 310 triple horn, which a potential buyer will be taking with him for a trial. As of 22 March 2011, this horn is still available for sale; details here.
optimism in the face of reason, or: another kaddish for new orleans
Mira wrote about having a grudge against optimism in a recent essay that has left me wandering lost in my own mind. See, I agree with just about everything she wrote. I largely agree with her worldview. But I am a persistent optimist. I am an optimist in the face of considerable clear evidence that optimism is irrational.
epitaph for a tzaddik
New Orleans. With the voudon priest. Again. He gives me a reading. And one of the things he says is: “Don’t go to the cemetery. He’s not there. Go to the place where he still resides. The place where he still lives.” And all I can think of is well, where is that? Where is…
daily kaddish: first memory attempt
[powerpress] My first attempt to play “Kaddish” from memory since beginning the project.
a kaddish for new orleans
The meetings. New Orleans. Again. Our session this time was ‘On the Circulation of Trance: Trance in 21st century globalized society’ or something like that. One of those times when every paper led seamlessly into the next, each amplifying the concerns of the previous. Each of us, in our own way, questioning the problems of…