The NACA Music, Art & General Creativity Thread

qigong chimp

Active Member
Our largest audience was over 16 000. A German military cemetry in Northern France!

Even in death there's no escape from small brass ensembles.
 
Old friend of mine sings tenor in a couple of choirs. She gets a certain amount of push-back from the more sclerotic male members.

That's poor, but not surprising sadly.. We will have some women drop down to Tenor . It's not uncommon I understand.
I was surprised that the Tenor range was higher than I realised....
 
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winjim

Welcome yourself into the new modern crisis
I meant it to be bleak, and dark. And a bit horrendous. I'd be interested to know what you saw in it.

Immediately it's hands covering the face, like in The Scream. Also the way it's split in two, with something emerging. I guess a broken heart because of the things contained within it which have to come out. But the things only hint at themselves and won't form a coherent structure. Like thoughts you have which can't be expressed in language. And at the same time it's something light casting off a cloak of darkness and breaking free. A kind of rebirth. Chaos allowing itself to be.

There's a lot going on. In my head anyway.
 
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AndyRM

Senior Member
Immediately it's hands covering the face, like in The Scream. Also the way it's split in two, with something emerging. I guess a broken heart because of the things contained within it which have to come out. But the things only hint at themselves and won't form a coherent structure. Like thoughts you have which can't be expressed in language. And at the same time it's something light casting off a cloak of darkness and breaking free. A kind of rebirth. Chaos allowing itself to be.

There's a lot going on. In my head anyway.

You've pretty much nailed it there, chapeau!

I"m not really one for colours in general. Red is my go to when I'm in that frame of mind. Green is a new addition because it's a partner of mine's favourite colour.
 

C R

Regular
The stuff going on in Iran reminded me of these two Galician poems.

The first one is called Longa Noite de Pedra (Long Night of Stone). It was written in the 60s, when Galician use in public was starting to be tolerated. It is an allegory of the oppression of the fascist regime.

Long Night of Stone by Celso Emilio Ferreiro

The roof is made of stone
Of stone they made the walls
And the gloom.
Of stone they made the floor
And the fences
The doors
The chains
The air
The windows
The looks
Are made of stone
The hearts of men
gazing from afar
are also made
of stone.
And I'm dying
in this long night
of stone.

The second one is Cunetas (Ditches) written in 1937, at the height of the fascist repression, but didn't see the light of day until the 80s. It talks about the terror of finding out every morning that more people had been found murdered in ditches.

Ditches by Luís Pimentel

Again, again the terror!
One day and the next
Without fanfare, without complaint
Galicia shot at in the ditches
Of its lanes.
Another shout
Oh, Lord, what did we do?
Hush
How much longer will this funeral last?
Don't cry, they might hear you
Today only those who love Galicia cry.
The thousands of hours, of centuries
that were needed
to make a man!
Yet the ditches must be filled
with the blood of teachers and workers.
Mud, blood and tears
are the seed in these furrows.

…………………………………….

Sweetly falls the rain.
Though I'm surrounded by an eternal night.
I'll have no more words for my verses.
Unable to sleep I walk the lanes early morning.
In the manors where they plot the crime
colour dripping of the hoisted flags
there's an air of dead pigeons.
I shudder again with fear.
Oh, Lord, this is mankind.
All doors are locked.
No one to exchange a smile with.
In the outskirts,
frayed and battered flags.
Leave the town behind.
You know that every day
there will be a dead man in the ditch,
but no-one knows yet who he is.
Over the body of her man a woman
cries.
And it rains.
Black shadow, black shadow!
I know there's a mystery in our land,
beyond the mist,
beyond the sea,
beyond the rain,
beyond the woods.

I reads somewhat unfinished, as Pimentel struggled to bring himself to go over the poems he wrote in that time as the memories were too painful.
 
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Ian H

Über Member
It has a typically acerbic foreword by Jonathan Meades. They're also on Instagram.
IMG_20221024_120118087_HDR.jpg
 

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icowden

Über Member
Apropos of nothing, this is the sort of thing I make when bored...

View: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1MFwwxB3ZRMkhRuH-VN4lAEqAzSrMcI66/view?usp=sharing


(excuse the occasional latency issues, I recorded this a while ago before I got my new USB audio deck)
 
OP
OP
Xipe Totec

Xipe Totec

Half man, half ant... ALL TERROR!
Why thank you. I keep meaning to redo it as my layering of my own vocals isn't tight enough for my liking, but that's always the problem with your own stuff. You're never *quite* happy...!

It's said no work of art is ever finished, it's only ever abandoned!
 
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