Showing posts with label guitar. Show all posts
Showing posts with label guitar. Show all posts

Wednesday 11 May 2022

An evening of their special kind of folk from Flook at Cambridge's The Junction (work in progress)

An evening of their special kind of folk from Flook at Cambridge's The Junction

More views of - or before - Cambridge Film Festival 2019 (17 to 24 October)
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)

11 May

An evening of their special kind of folk from Flook at Cambridge's The Junction at 8.00 p.m. (work in progress)


Although it's highly variable as to pitch and intensity¹, there's nothing quite like the deep, oceanic boom of the bodhran, or the soaring flute-and-pipe combination that is part of what audibly defines Flook and the appeal of the group, underpinned by a reedy rhythmicity of the guitar-line, on which bodhran and the woodwind instruments dance, swoop and glide.

Whether, as to open the first set, it's a march and a reel, or a set of gigs, this is music that enlivens, bringing to us a sound-world of otherness - of lively possibility and the possibility of maybe just being in some related, but other, universe, to reach which the facility and expressiveness of Brian Finnegan's playing, ever in close eye-contact with flautist Sarah Allen during significant passages, helps us and lets us find refuge.


Guitarist Ed Boyd likened us² to The King's Singers and – in a good way – an early Syd Barrett demo


Invigorated by the opportunities for live performance (Allen told us that Flook's latest album, Ancora, is three years old, but that few gigs to promote it had been possible that year), members of the band were expansive, in their introductions to sets of tunes, in referencing old Cambridge venues, including Cambridge Folk Festival, and around three decades of instrumental tuition in a summer school in Burwell (Burwell Bash, a connection that had caused pieces to be written in the past, and to some of whose present and past organizers dedications were made).


The craic - the story-telling, the anecdotes that put a set of tunes in context – is all part of the gig


It was clear how strongly the band had missed such places, being able to appear before an audience, and other performers and organizers to whom they also dedicated sets of tunes. Towards the end of the first set, we heard, in this connection, how they were used to being invited to play in Japan, arranged by someone called Yoko, and that one meaning of this name is Ocean Child, the title given to a piece that had echoes and the wider dimensions of folk rock, and of swirling, funky flights above the percussiveness of guitar and bodhran.


With our attention suitably drawn to the existence of merch such as long-sleeved T-shirts, tea-towels [sticking with the 'T' theme ?], beanies, and even CDs and an album on vinyl, Flook whirled us to the end of the first set and the interval...


The second set began with something of a tapping effect from John Joe Kelly and a more resonant guitar-tone (Boyd had two instruments available to him), around which the interlocking steps of flute and pipe could weave, in a number that built in both tempo and intensity and which, as they circled around it, made a generous impression, but with an occasional beat's rest per tutti that kept us – as well as the players – focused.

Next, a lovely initial tone on transverse flute from Finnegan, then joined by Allen and a gentle undertow from the rest of the band – as earlier in the gig, Finnegan could be seen, approaching and adjusting the distance from the microphone to alter the quality of the sound. Likewise, we saw and heard the ease with which Kelly strikes the sweet spot and also maintains, for the phlegmatic notes of pipe and flute alongside it, a steady pattern – especially in the more lively second and third tunes of the set, which, again, felt as though we were occupying some other space, where Joy and Jollity ever abound, and the percussion elements got louder and louder.


One tribute, to fiddler Andrew Dinan, was a lullaby from Austria – breathy, quiet and reflective


Kelly had evidently been working hard under the hot lights. Wanting to check on the football results³, he had 'sat out' that dedication, but rejoined the ensemble, as – with a bouncy style of attack from Allen – she started the band on another set of jigs :

This was a beautiful melding of flute and pipe, with a fairy-harp style of guitar accompaniment, and then, with a vigorous start from Kelly, the second tune was set up, which became a very pleasingly foot-stomping number !



More to come...
















End-notes :

¹ As John Joe Kelly was skilfully and amply to demonstrate in a solo slot (a drum solo with a big difference), before the last official number and the encore.

² In, collectively, parping the trombone theme that features on the first of a set of tunes on the album Rubai, we had been encouraged to better the audience in Newbury the night before. (Boyd had warned the newcomers to a Flook gig, in what was then the front row, that they might not have expected what would happen next...)

³ He is from Manchester, and a City fan. Quietly, but with clear satisfaction, he signalled digitally at an appropriate moment : 4 – 1.




Unless stated otherwise, all films reviewed were screened at Festival Central (Arts Picturehouse, Cambridge)

Wednesday 15 August 2012

Nocturnes or Why the hell did I write that? (2)

More views of - or before - Cambridge Film Festival 2012
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)


16 August

* Contains complete spoiler detail *

This is the low-down on the show-down that is Cringe in the First Person!


Story One:


Crooner


Location : Venice



Narrator : Jan, nicknamed Janeck, the implausible guitarist, haling from 'back in the communist days' behind The Iron Curtain



Others : Tony and Lindy Gardner, Vittorio



Offstage : Janeck's mother, somehow a black-market Tony Gardner fan


Premise : the story told, such as it is, sounds like nonsense, unless under the spell of Gee, I met Mr Gardner in person, and he said and did this! But we cannot be made fans for a singer beloved of the narrator's mother, and it is not even as if she is being told the story of his chance encounter with the crooner:

Tony Gardner had been my mother's favourite. Back home, back in the communist days, it had been really hard to get records like that, but my mother had pretty much his whole collection. [She slept with the boss of the local equivalent of the Stasi??]


Apart from the saps reading the book, who would listen to this story, and what point is there in telling it? - two questions that Ishiguro simply did not engage with, although they are crucial to telling a tale, which is that Tony needs a new wife for his flagging career, so out with Lindy, and they have come away to have a special trip together before they separate.

Janeck's failure to understand these worldly ways is the main intrigue (please see the quotation below), and also the vaguely interesting question whether, in the circumstances, Lindy will want to be serenaded in their hotel room with a few of Mr Gardner's hits (via Vittorio's gondoliering and Janeck's accompaniment).



Tics : Characterized by dialogue littered with excessive deference to his mother's has-been idol, who is always 'Mr Gardner', and by Crooner Tony's equivalent characterization in the form of referring to the younger man as 'friend', from time to time, and overemphasizing his non-capitalist upbringing (of which sod all is conveyed, although we are told that it is now a democracy):

He did another of his sighs. 'How would you understand, my friend, coming from where you do? But you've been kind to me tonight, so I'm gonna try and explain it [sc. splitting up from his wife].'