"take me
to the edge of
Vama tonight,
'cause I’ve run dry " (NightFly)
Unele lucruri frumoase se petrec asa, pe nestiute. la o margine de Vama...
NightFly, un band tanar din Bucuresti, canta doua seri la rand in Tequila Sunrise, o terasa la margine de Vama Veche. Nu e un loc ‘de marca’, precum Club A, Expirat, El Comandante sau la Soni, dar este un cuib al Vamii, primitor, cu soare filtrat prin stuf si plase, cu muzici bune.
Sunetul marii e si el aproape: marea e cel mai discret muzician, dar si cel mai fidel ascultator.
Baietii de la NightFly sunt la primul concert cu public dupa o luna de repetitii intense.
Emotiile sunt puternice, dar publicul aplauda, nu se mai satura de bis-uri, dovada ca trupa si-a facut bine datoria.
Ce aduce nou formatia NightFly? Versuri cu mesaj, nu cu rima; un sunet aparte (distorsuri hard cu improvizatii mai soft, aproape de jazz, ruperi impetuoase de ritm) si un vocal care compune pentru spirit, nu pentru mase.
Cantecele lor iti raman in minte pentru ca NightFly vrea sa fie thoughts sharing si punere pe ganduri, nu showing off efemer.
Muzica celor de la NightFly este alternativa nu numai din punct de vedere al stilului, ci si ca abordare matura a scenei muzicale din Romania: muzica inteleasa ca mesaj, nu zgomot, ca armonie prietenoasa, nu inregimentare mecanica.
Stefan Oprea, solistul de la NightFly cucereste prin sinceritate si generozitate: spune povestea cantecelor, incurajeaza solo-urile instrumentale. NightFly asta isi propune sa faca: o muzica de calitate, care inseamna dialog sincer intre public si interpreti.
Cred ca spiritul specific Vamii se pastreaza in locuri mai ascunse, cu o mana de oameni generosi si inimosi. Vama nu se salveaza programatic, la Stufstock, ci discret si sincer, ca un zbor de noapte (NightFly).
Vama Veche, 25, 26 august 2007
Aviator Muntenescu
miercuri, 12 septembrie 2007
duminică, 5 august 2007
Undergazer: Wondering EYE/ wandering I
Wondering EYE/ wandering I
Green Hours
the 17th of July – the 9th of August 2007
The exhibition brings together places and things that winked at me and at which I tried to wink back.
It is a small exhibition, an eye-to-I encounter…
A chaotic exhibition, a puzzle-exhibition, since it doesn’t hold unique theme, but rather it passes through a wooden drawer, picks up a boat on the beach of Vama Veche, catches the breath of a yellow tea pot, follows shadows in broad daylight on the streets of Rome, bends a row of cars in Sibiu (Hermannstadt), opens windows in Bucharest, embraces a friend in Berlin, spots a free table in the garden of Green Hours.
Each of my photographes is a glance, a way of paying attention to something; it is the expression of an attraction.
The wandering photographer reached Green Hours – a place under siege (the building undergoes litigation regarding ownership), an oasis offering jazz, theatre, shade, books, coffee& booze.
I like having my photos in the company of the LUNI Theatre, the Humanitas library, the GDS (the Group for Social Dialogue), an Internet Café, the Wagner kiosk, and in Otto’s company (the owner’s dog, Green Hours’ mascot).
The wandering photographer settled down with her photos at Green Hours and began welcoming friends, old ones and new ones…
You can see the photos here.
The Romanian text with the poster of the exhibition and the link to the photos are here'.
Tip: For the enlarged version of the image and its title please click on each photo... and enjoy the surprise.
Many thanks to Voicu Radescu & Green Hours for hosting my photos in the open air (en plein air ;-)
Many thanks to Razvan Penescu& LiterNet for hosting my photos online.
Green Hours
the 17th of July – the 9th of August 2007
The exhibition brings together places and things that winked at me and at which I tried to wink back.
It is a small exhibition, an eye-to-I encounter…
A chaotic exhibition, a puzzle-exhibition, since it doesn’t hold unique theme, but rather it passes through a wooden drawer, picks up a boat on the beach of Vama Veche, catches the breath of a yellow tea pot, follows shadows in broad daylight on the streets of Rome, bends a row of cars in Sibiu (Hermannstadt), opens windows in Bucharest, embraces a friend in Berlin, spots a free table in the garden of Green Hours.
Each of my photographes is a glance, a way of paying attention to something; it is the expression of an attraction.
The wandering photographer reached Green Hours – a place under siege (the building undergoes litigation regarding ownership), an oasis offering jazz, theatre, shade, books, coffee& booze.
I like having my photos in the company of the LUNI Theatre, the Humanitas library, the GDS (the Group for Social Dialogue), an Internet Café, the Wagner kiosk, and in Otto’s company (the owner’s dog, Green Hours’ mascot).
The wandering photographer settled down with her photos at Green Hours and began welcoming friends, old ones and new ones…
You can see the photos here.
The Romanian text with the poster of the exhibition and the link to the photos are here'.
Tip: For the enlarged version of the image and its title please click on each photo... and enjoy the surprise.
Many thanks to Voicu Radescu & Green Hours for hosting my photos in the open air (en plein air ;-)
Many thanks to Razvan Penescu& LiterNet for hosting my photos online.
sâmbătă, 7 iulie 2007
The railroad tracks turned green
Reminding me of jasmin tea.
In the sky, a cloud muses
about landing on safe ground
Every time I drink green tea with you I go off my railroad tracks &
I no longer inhabit the earth,
But venture the sky
By Aviatoru'
__________________________________________
The balcony is a cradle of cats
You won't find the meaning of blue in the dictionary.
I found a blue cat
in your latest photography
By Aviatoru'
Lookin over a photo/ i'm chasin' a dream/ thrown off the balcony. It was a dream written in the dictionary. I think that it was a blue distress call, meant for you. A cat-like feeling you experience/ while i'm chasin my dream/ thrown off balance by the photo
By Julius Sandman
Reminding me of jasmin tea.
In the sky, a cloud muses
about landing on safe ground
Every time I drink green tea with you I go off my railroad tracks &
I no longer inhabit the earth,
But venture the sky
By Aviatoru'
__________________________________________
The balcony is a cradle of cats
You won't find the meaning of blue in the dictionary.
I found a blue cat
in your latest photography
By Aviatoru'
Lookin over a photo/ i'm chasin' a dream/ thrown off the balcony. It was a dream written in the dictionary. I think that it was a blue distress call, meant for you. A cat-like feeling you experience/ while i'm chasin my dream/ thrown off balance by the photo
By Julius Sandman
joi, 21 iunie 2007
"Masturbare cu public"
Miezul lucrurilor underground
Joi in B52: The Mood, The Guillotines, The Amsterdams
Uneori un concert underground, fie el de junk punk sau alternative rock, se aseamana foarte mult cu o masturbare in grup, cu public. Pustani in miezul adolescentei isi descarca energiile metatarsienelor zdranganind la chitara; isi exloateaza vocea dincolo de bine si de rau, de Placebo sau Franz Ferdinand; rup ritmul, corzile vocale si string-urile in fata unui public la fel de neastamparat.
Unii se ascund dupa o claie de par rebel – o variata punk a Gorgonei – , altii isi construiesc asimetria printr-o tunsoare demna de un Picasso un pic mai neindemanatic intr-ale cubismului. Inceputurile sunt grele, in arta…
La un astfel de concert, energia debordanta valoreaza mai mult decat calitatea muzicala. Asta se construieste in timp, iar scena underground din Bucuresti e inca ‘infantila’ la capitolul punk; atat in ceea ce priveste publicul (mostly teenagers, highlanders of the highschool), cat si performerii, la care lipsa unei culturi muzicale ‘grele’ e evidenta. Dar exista ureche, si dorinta, si pasiune, iar cand tineretea le tine hangul, cred ca lucrurile nu pot fi decat pe drumul cel bun.
Cu sireturile in aer, mes enfants!
by Aviatoru'
Joi in B52: The Mood, The Guillotines, The Amsterdams
Uneori un concert underground, fie el de junk punk sau alternative rock, se aseamana foarte mult cu o masturbare in grup, cu public. Pustani in miezul adolescentei isi descarca energiile metatarsienelor zdranganind la chitara; isi exloateaza vocea dincolo de bine si de rau, de Placebo sau Franz Ferdinand; rup ritmul, corzile vocale si string-urile in fata unui public la fel de neastamparat.
Unii se ascund dupa o claie de par rebel – o variata punk a Gorgonei – , altii isi construiesc asimetria printr-o tunsoare demna de un Picasso un pic mai neindemanatic intr-ale cubismului. Inceputurile sunt grele, in arta…
La un astfel de concert, energia debordanta valoreaza mai mult decat calitatea muzicala. Asta se construieste in timp, iar scena underground din Bucuresti e inca ‘infantila’ la capitolul punk; atat in ceea ce priveste publicul (mostly teenagers, highlanders of the highschool), cat si performerii, la care lipsa unei culturi muzicale ‘grele’ e evidenta. Dar exista ureche, si dorinta, si pasiune, iar cand tineretea le tine hangul, cred ca lucrurile nu pot fi decat pe drumul cel bun.
Cu sireturile in aer, mes enfants!
by Aviatoru'
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