Knock Twice Scrapbook

The cities were established where the patterns of stones had been set up according to the necessities of the plan, along the lines of force in the earth of that time. These patters, lines, circles, arrangements were no different from those familiar to us on other planets, and were the basis and foundation of the transmitting system of the Lock between Canopus and Rohanda…

What the Natives were being taught was the science of maintaining contact at all times with Canopus; of keeping contact with their Mother, their Maintainer, their Friend, and what they called God, the Divine. If they kept the stones aligned and moving as the forces moved and waxed and waned, and if the cities were kept up according to the laws of Necessity, then they might expect—these little inhabitants of Rohanda who had been no more than scurrying monkeys half in half out of the trees, animals with little in them of the Canopean nature—these animals could expect to become men, would take charge of themselves and their world when the Giants left them, the work of the symbiosis complete.

Photo: ‘The Timelessness of Angkor Wat’ by Stuck in Customs
Photo: ‘Ta Prohm’ by lecercle
Photo: ‘Approach from the West Gate’ by uwdigitalcollections
Photo: ‘Buddha Stroll’ by Stuck in Customs
Excerpt: Doris Lessing. Canopus in Argos: Archives, RE: Colonised Planet 5, Shikasta, Personal, Psychological, Historical Documents Relating to Visit By Johor (George Sherban), Emissary (Grade 9) 87th of the Period of the Last Days. 1981.
Song: ‘What Need Have I For This-What Need Have I For That-I Am Dancing At The Feet Of My Lord-All Is Bliss-All Is Bliss’ by Shakti* from Shakti, 1975.

1. For Alyssa — who will be traveling in Cambodia the next few weeks and visiting Angkor Wat — who thoughtfully invited my to be one of the guest bloggers at her place while she is away.
2. Shikasta is one of the most devastating and beautiful books that I have ever read. Lessing’s rich narrative provides both an alternative creation myth  and a possible solution that address the constant state of deterioration that underlies everything we do. The earlier parts of the book deal with pre-civilization — the people, their habitats. For me, Angkor Wat is probably the closest manifestation of these relics on the planet today.
3. Indian music filtered through an English guitarist are the final disparate elements for this post. Lets just say that the foreignness of this hefty tune is other-worldy enough that it may be a direct communication with something else on another cosmic plane.

*John McLaughlin, guitar | L. Shankar, violin |R. Raghavan - mridangam | T. H. Vinayakaram, ghatam and mridangam | Zakir Hussain - tabla

The pianist’s addition of long, full modal chords in a broad interpretation of the meter and the drummer’s wash of cross-currents tapped out on cymbal complete the airy atmosphere against which Shorter’s tune is projected. This is an original melody in three segments in a-a’-b or a-a’-a” form, contrasting a flat line with a descending one, whose first two segments end on the upbeat. The tune is in twelve measures, divided into three groups of four, the first group staying on the tonic, the second moving from iv to i, and the third from V to IV to i. If many of these features sound like those of the twelve-bar blues, its no accident. The piece is cast very much as the blues, and similarities to as well as differences from conventional format are among its most intriguing aspects.

Photo(s): Nasa.gov — Mars Rovers
Song: ‘Footprints’ by Wayne Shorter on ‘Miles Smiles,’* 1966.
Song: ‘Footprints’ by Wayne Shorter on ‘Adam’s Apple,’** 1966.
Excerpt: Jeremy Yudkin. Miles Davis, Miles Smiles, and the Invention of Post Bop. 2008.

The two versions of ‘Footprints’ presented here were released eight months apart. The earlier recording, the second, is taught and deliberate. The later, presented first, was performed by a band lead by Miles Davis. It saunters through the parts and at times the performances — especially from Davis and Shorter — are flippant and loose with the melody.

While I enjoy both of these takes on the same tune, I find the performance on Miles Smiles elevates to a higher level of artisan ship. Its sexier and conflicted, lacking the self-assurance keeps the earlier performance so tight.

For the those that are new to jazz, pay special attention to the piano parts in each. The solos from Hancock reflect the tones I’ve described above, but also highlight the vastness of worlds that can be created via improvisation.

Why the photos of Mars? The red planet has been on my mind a lot recently as I’m reading KSR’s The Martians and thinking about how casting a story on a virgin planet allows for vast possibility for reshaping how humans live and interact.

* Miles Davis, trumpet | Wayne Shorter, tenor saxophone | Herbie Hancock, piano | Ron Carter, bass | Tony Williams, drums
** Wayne Shorter, tenor saxophone | Herbie Hancock, piano | Reggie Workman, bass | Joe Chambers, drums

Photo: MissusK, 2009.
Photo: ilmungo, 2005.
Photo: jmtimages, 2007
Song: ‘Eat that Chicken,’ by Charles Mingus from his 1962 album, Oh Yeah*.

One of my favorite reoccurring segments as a jazz DJ was Lunch with Mingus, thirty or forty minutes of Charles Mingus starting at noon. As my show was on Thursday, a few years in a row I had the great pleasure of hosting on Thanksgiving. On account of the holiday, I kicked off my Mingus segment with ‘Eat that chicken’, a crowd pleaser.

*Charles Mingus, piano and vocals | Rahsaan Roland Kirk, woodwinds | Booker Ervin, tenor sax | Jimmy Knepper, trombone | Doug Watkins, bass |Dannie Richmond, drums

Silence for a while. “So that’s what what’s got you down,’ Eileen says.

“What?”

“The Red Mars party—out of favor.”

“Out of existence, you mean.”

She considers it. “I never could understand the Red point of view—”

“Few could, apparently.”

“—until I read something in Heidegger, where he makes a distinction between earth and world. Do you you know it?”

“No.”

“Earth is that blank materiality of nature that exists before us and more or less sets the parameters on what we can do. Sartre called it facticity. World then is the human realm, the social and historical dimension that gives earth its meaning.”

Roger nods his understanding.

“So—the Reds, as I understood it, were defending earth. Or planet, in this case. Trying to protect the primacy of planet over world—or at least to hold a balance between them.”

“Yes,” Roger says. “But the world inundated the planet.”

“True. But when you look at it that way, you can see what you were trying to do was hopeless. A political party is inevitably part of the world, and everything it does will be worldly. And we only know the materiality of nature through our human sense—so really it is only world that we know directly.”

“I’m not sure about that,” Roger protests. “I mean, it’s logical, and usually I’m sure it’s true—but sometimes—” He smacks the rock of their shelf with his mittened hand. “You know?”

Eileen touches the mitten. “World.”

Roger lifts his lip, irritated. He pulls the mitten off and hits the cold rock again. “Planet.”

Eileen frowns thoughtfully. “Maybe.”

‘Earth’ by Mark Weaver, 2009.

Excerpt from Kim Stanley Robinson’s ‘Green Mars’, a short story in his book The Martians, 1999.

On the same day that I read the passage above I received a framed copy of the ‘Earth’ print. Here it is at home.

I chose this pairing because I like how Roger and Eileen’s discussion about the mediated nature of all human experience ties Weaver’s print to thematic arc of representation in art. Specifically, read through the context of their discussion, Mark’s decision to label his representation of an astronaut ‘Earth’, for me evokes Magritte’s, ‘Ceci n’est pas une pipe,’ in which he labeled the painting of a pipe with the words, ‘this is not a pipe.’ As Magritte reminds us that representations are separate from what they represent, Weaver is points out that we are incapable of experiencing anything directly and that like an astronaut in space everything we encounter is filtered through myriad human creations, the most basic of which is language.

No matter how hard I try there are some things that I struggle to explain. Like why the things that I find to be prettiest are also so often be sad.

Photo: by Fergal OP on Flickr.
Song: ‘Long way to go with no punch,’ by Dirty Three. She Has No Strings Apollo, 2002.