entrevistas y artículos por eduardo paz carlson: julio 2015

miércoles, 8 de julio de 2015

A Quien Le Interese : sobre mi poesía y mis experimentos sonoros... +

epc, entrevista en El Observador, 1995
compre mi libro:
http://articulo.mercadolibre.com.uy/MLU-427620891-libro-poesia-uruguaya-contemporanea-vanguardia-_JM

epc con el viejo piano del Liceo Francés, Montevideo, 2002
ESCUCHE aqui: http://laboratoriodesonido.wix.com/musicaporeduardopazcarlson
o aqui:
https://soundcloud.com/eduardopazcarlson

Sobre mis experimentos sonoros y demás en EMF/Idea7, 2004:

First of all, I believe that an artist must remain silent. The less he talks about himself and his work the better. What is important is the listener, the observer, the reader. They are the ones who must talk, analyse and as a last resort, create the work.

I feel like an inventor of "kits". I build kits of poems or "musika" so those who read or listen can deal with these kits as they wish.

It is difficult to date correctly each piece because all were composed in segments of works done in different times (between 1977 and 2004). I cannot affirm that all my "eletroascoustic musika work is really "electroacoustic" well.. the reason is because I don´t have a very clear vision of what electroacoustic music really is. It can be said that i "descend" from Varese, Stockhausen, Eno, Fripp, as all of those of my generation (I will be 46 in November).

By writing MUSIKA with a K expresses that I don´t consider myself a real musician, or as how the academy considers the status of a musician. However, do I compose electroacustica music? Maybe yes, I don´t know, and for that reason I selected some works which could be placed in the parameters of what TODAY is considered electroacoustic, I believe.. Each of the compositions I sent in these cds have something related to acoustic sounds.

Of course in some cases it is so transformed that it can´t be distinguished (concrete music?)
There are all sorts of transfigured sounds. In the majority of my works I make a mixture of every different sound which I have at hand at the moment, for example, in the work "Loor Beata Invernala" I captured unintentionally the discharge of electricity caused by lightning and as I was in the process of composing the sound remained travelling all around the work bouncing and mutating I have a lightning discharge locked in a cd!

A few weeks ago when summer was in full swing the pine cones in a pine tree in my backyard which has been bent by the wind (I live about 100 meters from the ocean en El Pinar) started to explode and I recorded the event. All the pine cones in El Pinar were exploding, but the trees are so tall that all different types of sounds were mixed with these explosions and I could not capture the crackling that I had in mind to do. However, I could record clearly the sound that this bent pine tree emitted and later I transformed them (actually with a great bit of good luck using a plugin that I did not even know existed or to be more explicit it just came out of the blue.. as almost all I try to do) into bells like very delicate liquid metal. Can you believe it? I consider myself lucky to have been able to trap the sounds of the exploding pine cones.

As you can see I use anything and everything that comes along and I don´t intend to imitate any "traditional instrument" with the computer. In addition as my musical formation is really a deformation, a leap without shame of ignorance to "compose anything". Naturally I give my work ostentatious and mysterious titles as the surrealists with their painting because for me this MUSIKA which I compose is like blots of colour and shapes, sonorous magmas (collages of sounds) that I mix with tremendous pleasure using the techniques of "pure psychic automatism" that Breton and Tzara invented.

I find great enjoyment with these works. For me it is like a game...

Musically I am still an adolescent: I started my electronic musical studies at the age of 15 but at 18 I had to interrupt them when I found myself crushed by a mountain of ideas that where trapped in a dead end: I didn't have the technical equipment to realize them!

In1997 I decided to start the harvest of all those sounds and imaginary compositions I had been working on for so many years. Now, when I "compose" or "play" my "musik" i am really a kid again. My mind goes back in time, it is like a part of me is still 15-18 years old...its great! At 15 I also began my experimentation with poetry and I have continued up to date.

I have published quite a number of books. Two years ago I published "OBRAS COMPLETAS 1973-2002" and last year: Poemas Del Verano. Since last year I am working on a new book "Cuerpo" a long poem. Various friends who are composers (sometimes without, but almost always with my authorization) have used some of my poems in their musical compositions. Pedro Ipuche Riva was one of them, and for me it was an honor (poema Oración).

I was born in Montevideo, Uruguay, November 6, 1958. My father was a diplomat therefore I travelled in Europe and America until the age of 17. My mother is American. I studied in innumerable primary schools and high schools: first English schools, then French schools and finally Uruguayan-French schools. I have studied ethnography, philosophy, literature, publicity, graphic design, and journalism.

My first skirmishes as a journalist happened during 1980 and 1983 in Uruguay. Due to the civic-social-military dictatorship that governed the country as it wished until 1985, I was not permitted to exercise this profession until then.

I wrote for different news papers in Uruguay: El Día, La Mañana, El Ciudadano and El Observador.

Since 1999, I am dedicated to my career of composer of Contemporary Music or Technoconcrete and I have retired myself from society. I am not an asetic but I live tranquilly, without children, no wife. I write, I read. I study and make mixtures happily. I have no dependents, and as I have sent all to hell, or almost all the superfluous, I am tranquil and concentrated. So one can say that I am practically free.

I worked in radio ~ FM cultural programs including poetry. I published my first book in 1979. During the past two years I am working on a new book. Up to now I have edited fifteen works (poetry and prose).

I consider myself a direct descendent of two monsters in electronic music and/or electroacustic. Edgard Varese and Karlheinz Stockhausen. Varese drove me crazy when as a youngster I heard for the first time his "Poeme Electronique. It was an impact of immense pleasure, I was young, no more than ten years old and I lived in Paris and it was as if the world had given me permission to do "any kind of madness". I thought "this is the music I want to make". I remember that I repeated to myself "What is this? Is it music?" It seemed to me to be very amusing and my spirit was elated. It changed my life.

Varese is a true maestro. How could I give myself the title of composer? I consider myself a potter of "sonorous magmas". I make collages of sounds as Braque or Picasso made collages with painted papersor as Magritte invented ingenious and disturbing
titles for my works. The fact is that I enjoy so very much making this music and I don´t really know what it is.

It is a game, or the stimulation of spiritual atmospheres. The composer Sergio Fernández told me that my work seemed like "strokes of light", that is was "visual" music. I learned by myself and in disorder although I felt the very important impulse (although short) from professors such as Mateo and Carlos Pellegrino. The pianist Luis Batlle Ibañez one afternoon heard in my grandmother´s home in Uruguay, by chance, a recording of me playing the piano which I had recorded during one of my many "absences from classes in the Lycée Français (I would escape from class and would go to the lycée´s theatre and I maltreated the poor piano and recorded these "sessions with my old "Panasonic recorder).

Batlle heard these crazy recorded sessions and he took me by the arm directly to the Municipal School of Music and with a loud voice demanded that I should be incorporated in the classes: "This young man must learn. I leave him with you!"

So I went a couple of years on and off because these classes bored me tremendoualy and I finally desisted and continued my (de)formation with ups and downs and since then, (1975 or 1976) I haven´t stopped recording any sort of sound that passes in front of me..

Music is the best, but it is not knowledge nor is it beauty , it is simply "the best" as the maestro, Frank Zappa, says from heaven.

In the period when I studied with Pellegrino en the "Alianza Francesa" we used a Sinty 2000 or something similar. It was the most advanced product in that moment. We also used the old and ugly Revox recorders. Editing was done manually, with scissors and glue! Sometimes in order to compose 1 minute it would take us days to do so.

Today, with my "super machine" I can compose, edit and record with the same or better quality of sound in twenty minutes a piece in ten minutes.although sometimes it may take me days to finish one precious minute! A treasure of sound!

I Compose to find gold. Every composer secretly searches for a golden sound, in other words: A Beautiful Song,.. and what is A Beautiful Song? It is what eliminates the pain in this world. It elevates our spirit. It is what all great composers look for and they conceal it with great symphonies, grandiose works and brilliant virtuosity.

All of this is valid, of course it is, but one must not forget that behind all this formal adornment lie throbbing songs found or almost found or which escapes from the mind of the composer. We all are in search of A Beautiful Song and some find it, and how! I believe that I still have not been able to find it.

poema deTierra Luminosa, 1986

poemas del libro negro Lao2008

lea mis manifiestos de 1988: http://manifiestosyarticulos.blogspot.com/

vea mis collages en http://eduardopazcarlson.artelista.com/

o acá: https://youtu.be/LCIKIvVbyPY

Frank Zappa Late Night with David Letterman June 16, 1983

Yes 1991 Documentary. P.2. Tempus Fugit / Chris Squire solo bass guitar

Chris Squire - Great Rickenbacker Bass Sounds 1

Fragmentos de EL MUNDO Y SUS DEMONIOS

LO MÁS

PRECIADO

Toda nuestra ciencia, comparada con la
realidad, es primitiva e infantil... y sin
embargo es lo más preciado que tenemos.
ALBERT EINSTEIN
(1879-1955)

Cuando bajé del avión, el hombre me esperaba con un pedazo de cartón en el que estaba escrito mi nombre. Yo iba a una conferencia de científicos y comentaristas de televisión dedicada a la aparentemente imposible tarea de mejorar la presentación de la ciencia en la televisión comercial. Amablemente, los organizadores me habían enviado un chofer.

—¿Le molesta que le haga una pregunta? —me dijo mientras

esperábamos la maleta.

No, no me molestaba.

—¿No es un lío tener el mismo nombre que el científico aquel?

Tardé un momento en comprenderlo. ¿Me estaba tomando el pelo?

Finalmente lo entendí.

—Yo soy el científico aquel —respondí. Calló un momento y luego

sonrió.

—Perdone. Como ése es mi problema, pensé que también sería el

suyo.

Me tendió la mano.

—Me llamo William F. Buckiey.

(Bueno, no era exactamente William F. Buckiey, pero llevaba el

nombre de un conocido y polémico entrevistador de televisión, lo que sin duda le había valido gran número de inofensivas bromas.) Mientras nos instalábamos en el coche para emprender el largo recorrido, con los limpiaparabrisas funcionando rítmicamente, me dijo que se alegraba de que yo fuera «el científico aquel» porque tenía muchas preguntas sobre ciencia. ¿Me molestaba?

No, no me molestaba.

Y nos pusimos a hablar. Pero no de ciencia. Él quería hablar de los extraterrestres congelados que languidecían en una base de las Fuerzas Aéreas cerca de San Antonio, de «canalización» (una manera de oír lo que

hay en la mente de los muertos... que no es mucho, por lo visto), de cristales,de las profecías de Nostradamus, de astrología, del sudario de Turín...

Presentaba cada uno de estos portentosos temas con un entusiasmo lleno de optimismo. Yo me veía obligado a decepcionarle cada vez.

—La prueba es insostenible —le repetía una y otra vez—. Hay una explicación mucho más sencilla.

En cierto modo era un hombre bastante leído. Conocía los distintos matices especulativos, por ejemplo, sobre los «continentes hundidos» de la

Atlántida y Lemuria. Se sabía al dedillo cuáles eran las expediciones submarinas previstas para encontrar las columnas caídas y los minaretes rotos

de una civilización antiguamente grande cuyos restos ahora sólo eran visitados por peces luminiscentes de alta mar y calamares gigantes. Sólo que... aunque el océano guarda muchos secretos, yo sabía que no hay la más mínima base oceanográfica o geofísica para deducir la existencia de la Atlántida y Lemuria. Por lo que sabe la ciencia hasta este momento, no existieron jamás. A estas alturas, se lo dije de mala gana.

Mientras viajábamos bajo la lluvia me di cuenta de que el hombre estaba cada vez más taciturno. Con lo que yo le decía no sólo descartaba una doctrina falsa, sino que eliminaba una faceta preciosa de su vida interior.

Y, sin embargo, hay tantas cosas en la ciencia real, igualmente excitantes y más misteriosas, que presentan un desafío intelectual mayor...

además de estar mucho más cerca de la verdad. ¿Sabía algo de las moléculas de la vida que se encuentran en el frío y tenue gas entre las estrellas? ¿Había

oído hablar de las huellas de nuestros antepasados encontradas en ceniza volcánica de cuatro millones de años de antigüedad? ¿Y de la elevación del

Himalaya cuando la India chocó con Asia? ¿O de cómo los virus, construidos como jeringas hipodérmicas, deslizan su ADN más allá de las defensas del

organismo del anfitrión y subvierten la maquinaria reproductora de las células; o de la búsqueda por radio de inteligencia extraterrestre; o de la recién descubierta civilización de Ebla, que anunciaba las virtudes de la cerveza de Ebla? No, no había oído nada de todo aquello. Tampoco sabía nada, ni siquiera vagamente, de la indeterminación cuántica, y sólo reconocía el ADN como tres letras mayúsculas que aparecían juntas con frecuencia.

El señor «Buckiey» —que sabía hablar, era inteligente y curioso— no había oído prácticamente nada de ciencia moderna. Tenía un interés natural en las maravillas del universo. Quería saber de ciencia, pero toda la

ciencia había sido expurgada antes de llegar a él. A este hombre le habían fallado nuestros recursos culturales, nuestro sistema educativo, nuestros

medios de comunicación. Lo que la sociedad permitía que se filtrara eran principalmente apariencias y confusión. Nunca le habían enseñado a distinguir la ciencia real de la burda imitación. No sabía nada del

funcionamiento de la ciencia.