Sparks from Sibelius, Juárez + Ravel
Musical worlds for you to float in this week.
I don’t like reading about films or television shows before watching. I don’t like rotting tomatoes even if there’s 99 of them. I never watch movie trailers and I certainly stay away from album reviews (even my own which is not easy, I’ll admit.) I tend to resist cultural hype and wait for the popular records to find me organically instead of seeking them out at the height of their release campaign (okay okay I make an exception for Kendrick Lamar because I need to stream that shit the moment it drops.)
Today I will write a short reflection (brevity is something I’m trying to practise more here on Substack — but forgive me if I fail) about each of the musical sparks I’m sharing today. Soar into whichever world speaks to you. As I pointed out in my last post, my opinion is largely irrelevant compared to yours, but you might find it at the least entertaining or a glimpse into the way I hear things. How other people hear things, though it may be different, is at the very least interesting, right?
Let’s begin.
Spark #1
Sibelius Symphony No. 2 Karelia Suite performed by the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra and conducted by Pietari Inkinen
I sat in the car my brother loaned me during my recent stay in New Zealand, turned the radio on and heard a eerie surge of strings, a stark change from all the pop hit radio stations I’d been cycling through aimlessly. It was patient and haunting. I sat frozen in the dark car marinating in all the soft warm tones.
I’m honestly not a huge classical person. I like Debussy and many avant-garde minimalist composers who I guess could be considered classical but I could never speak with any confidence on the genre. It’s been hard for me to find a way in. The huge volumes of work feel so overwhelming to me.
I think of classical music as a gallery full of ornate paintings that are experienced best when there is no reference point or guided headphone tours pointing out their historical context or reviewing their craft with that slightly hoity-toity austerity that sometimes comes along with classical music — not to mention the unsettling perfection and discipline it tends to demand of it’s players.
For me, it hit while I sat in that dark car, alone, accompanied by an anxious feeling in my chest that slowly started to dissipate as I kept listening. That’s the best way I can explain it.
Speaking of musical descriptions, here’s a perfect example of a completely unhelpful, tepid and quite frankly, off-putting review I read regarding this album — which I assume was intended to be a compliment.
The Guardian, when describing the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra’s performance of this piece called them ‘a fine, responsive unit.’
Wow. Aren’t you just dying to listen now?
It sounds more like a description of a car than a symphony.
I guess none of these descriptions matter but that one just felt particularly hilarious to me and — in my humble opinion — the exact kind of clinical, boring mindset that music is intended to break open and re-arrange. Music, for me, insists that you close the academic, descriptive mind that seeks to analyze and label — and listen with the soul (that spiritual organ we all possess which requires no words in order to pin down it’s experience.)
So I should probably stop with the words! The whole album is beautiful but I’ll start you with two songs that roused me.
Spark #2
A newly discovered songwriter from Juárez : Raquel Vega
Sometimes the best memory you have associated with a piece of music is how it found you.
This young songwriter Raquel Vega wrote to me on Instagram the other week with an incredibly kind message about she drove all the way to Sonic Ranch when I had posted about working there just with the hopes that we might cross paths in the parking lot as I was leaving. It never happened but she went on in her message expressing how much my music had been an inspiration for her own. I was very moved. It often happens that I have artists send me their music asking me to listen and admittedly, it can feel quite overwhelming to even attempt to get through it all — coupled with my increasing desire to limit my time on these platforms altogether — but in this case, I felt a spirit nudge to check out her music… and I found it to be very beautiful.
Here are two songs of hers that I really enjoyed.
Two songs by Raquel Vega :
The best way I can think to describe these songs (which as we’ve established above is NOT VERY IMPORTANT but perhaps simply interesting) is that they feel like a house that’s been thoughtfully decorated but not too meticulously. There’s not too much clutter but there’s enough quirky, mis-matched items and dishes in the sink for the house to feel approachable and cosy upon entering. An invitation to put your feet up. The curtains are drawn, the lamps are soft and the tea is herbal. There’s a knife on the kitchen bench and a pomegranate left waiting to be opened.
What do you think?
She also reminds me a little of Inara George from one of my favorite bands, The Bird and The Bee. That’s a fun rabbit hole to go down if you want more in this sort of playful, melodically adventurous vein…
Spark #3
Ravel’s Jeux D’eau played Two Ways
I love that the interpretation of this French song title ”Jeux D’eau” is Water Games! A finally helpful description given by the artist himself!
My wonderful friend Halsey sent me these two performances over email while she was in Las Vegas and I was in New Zealand. I had never even heard the piece of music before (which reinforces how completely clueless I am about classical music) and I couldn’t believe how beautiful both these interpretations were. Two completely different sets of hands and life stories playing the same piece of music.
Are we not all playing the same great song in our life? The song goes something like this: creation, birth, joy, growth, suffering, more creation, love, loss, death, change…
I’ll admit, in this song… it’s hard to know what the chorus is, right? It seems more like a through-line composition, you sometimes can’t differentiate one section from the other.
These two performances make me think about how every life marks these fundamental, inevitable experiences of the human condition with their own unique map, meaning, innate rhythm and seeking soul. May the following be a meditation on just that.
Two interpretations of Ravel’s Jeux D’eau :
Martha Argerich
Sviatoslav Richter
Tell next time,
An additional note…
To the musicians, producers and live performers who subscribe to this newsletter, I’ve designed a course on “The Art of Live Performance” just for you and I will be starting to teach it in February. You can find all the details here. I look forward to helping many of you in the next steps of your journey as musicians. My subscribers also get a discount if you type in “kimbrasubstack” at check out.
To hear me talk in depth about. what this course will offer, everything is explained in this recent post! Can’t wait.
