A new movement emerging

Had breakfast with Tuân Anh, the director of Làng Tôi. My choreographer friend Loc could not come to Paris for the silly reason that they secured a French visa for all the members of the company but him. He must be quite frustrated.

We shared breakfast with the musical director, a jovial half French-half Vietnamese bearded man who could fool you into thinking that he is from Normandie until he starts talking perfect Vietnamese.

I learned about the origins of the show. I was pleasantly surprised that the creative team was chiefly composed of Vietnamese living abroad. Their idea with this show is to gather Vietnamese artists that are running wild on their own and channel them in creative projects to take place in Vietnam.

This gives me faith in the birth of a genuine cultural life in my country. I’m looking forward to it and will be glad to participate.

Life goes on and sometime ceases to be

Went to have breakfast with Tuân Anh, the director of Làng Tôi. My choreographer friend Loc could not come to Paris for the silly reason that they secured a French visa for all the members of the company but him. He must be quite frustrated.

We shared breakfast with the musical director, a jovial half French-half Vietnamese bearded man who didn’t look at all like an Asian person until he starts talking.

I learned about the origins of the show. I was surprised that the creative team was composed of Vietnamese living abroad. Their idea with this show is to gather Vietnamese artists that are running wild on their own and channel them in creative projects to take place in Vietnam.

This gives me faith in the birth of a genuine cultural life in my country. I’m looking forward to it and will be glad to participate.

[...] 

Big rain storm today. The trees and the plants needed it.

I took my parents to the Quai Branly to see Làng Tôi. I feared that my mother would find an excuse not to get out of her house, but was greatly surprised when she immediately accepted – to my father’s relief. Since I had an extra invitation, I asked Ulysses to come as well. All of them loved what they saw. I would sometime glance at my parents during the show and would see a smile on their face, much to my delight.

[…]

Michael Jackson is dead… It was two in the morning when I learned the news. Hard rain, lightnings and thunders outside. The news sounded like a spam. But it wasn't. They were very serious. I had to read the headline many times before I could register the actuality of it. He may not have wanted to grow old, but we all cease to be young today. A whole era is gone with him. I shall always remember this adorable young boy who sang Ben.

Pinoy Jam

Fête de la Musique in Paris today. Musicians were out to celebrate the first day of summer. Much less than the previous years, I found. That is maybe in the areas I walked past. 

This year I was involved with the Philippino community. My friend Dennis was to give a couple of concerts so I helped out, playing the external eye (and ear) during the rehearsals. Dennis gave an acoustic recital of Philippino songs, with just a guitarist to back him. Beside the fact that he was singing in Tagalog, many songs reminded me of Spanish folk songs. Quite beautiful melodies.

Làng tôi

The highlight of the month was this contemporary circus-theatre show from Vietnam, Làng Tôi (My Village) that was premiered at the Musée du Quai Branly. I didn’t think much about it when I first heard about it, to tell the truth. Prejudices, prejudices! 

The choreographer of the show had seen a performance of NINA – materialize sacrifice in Tokyo and wrote to me after he finally spotted me on Facebook. He was sensitive to the fact that the music had been written by a Vietnamese composer. After a few exchanges, it was clear that we had a lot in common. He was about to come to France to supervise the premiere of Làng tôi and wanted to invite me. I asked Julia to join me, without really knowing what to expect. Both of us were spellbound and speechless throughout the whole show, like children marvelling at a magic trick. It was much more than a circus show. The skills of the performers were never the centre of focus, but very subtly integrated in a very poetic narrative depicting one day in a Vietnamese village. The music came from the different parts of the country. It wasn’t a particular village, more an idealization of different parts of the country. The stage design was sumptuous yet very simple: everything was based on bamboo poles. Different structures were being built, transformed during the show just with these bamboo poles. I was amazed, proud and happy. At last something beautiful and of quality was being created from Vietnam. I hope more projects like this one will come in the future.

The audience was enthusiastic. A well deserved success!

I was introduced to Tuân Le, the stage director after the show, a young man whose modesty hid an enormous talent. He’s been apparently hired by Le Cirque du Soleil to perform with them during two full years in the USA. We’ll meet again in the coming days. Premieres are never the best time to talk.

I will compel my parents to see Làng Tôi. They must see it! Everyone must!

Speaking of contemporary circus, I have received a mail from a woman who is interested in me for a big project in Vietnam. A dancer friend of mine who lives in Saigon is working with her and apparently sang praises of my work to her. What I do seems to fit what she has in mind.

Strange that it all comes at the same time. I had been saying my mantras for the past weeks, trying to chase away all negative thoughts – a tough one, considering my present situation. I wasn’t asking for anything, just visualizing good projects coming my way, travels and a better financial state. I am now fully aware of the power of thoughts and words. Therefore it is important to get away of all routine of thoughts, all habits and mechanism that I have gathered through the years. The challenge is prodigious; it’s like learning to speak again. I feel like a sorcerer’s apprentice. And more than once I showed to myself how powerful every single thought is for it materializes when we voice it out.

I will meet this woman in a couple of weeks when she comes to Paris. Whatever happens doesn’t matter, the fact that the possibility happens is already incredible and exciting!

Falling free

I’m keeping an eye open on young visual artists. I will need something fresh and exciting for my album cover. Some images start to form in my head. I carry my camera everywhere with me. However, the pictures I take bear little connection with the visual style I want to have for my album.

I have walking a lot on the streets. I rediscover Paris in a different way, to try to pay attention to details I would not have noticed before, to look up when everybody looks down or straight ahead…

I find that I am irresistibly attracted to the sky and the clouds. Paris at dusk is a wonderful spectacle!

A friend from Korea was marvelling at this unknown side of the city he never suspected existed: a quiet and peaceful Paris.

I will have to write this piece for two violins this week. The deadline is getting near: everything shall be sent by the first of July!

My current idea is to structure the piece like a baroque overture à l’italienne and give it a modern eastern European treatment…  I’ve sketched a few musical motives already. Maybe I shall study some violin scores, like the Paganini’s Caprices, so not to make technical aberrations!

[…]

Had this delightful dream where I was passing a group of people in an unknown exotic city. There was this beautiful young Indian girl. Music was playing and she called me to her and asked me to dance with her. I may not have known her but I felt like there was no secret between us. I followed her movements then she followed mine. I took her in my arms and we kept on dancing whilst people around us went on with their daily chores.

Recovery

Ulysses and Tobias dragged me out of my lethargy to attend a singing class at the Music Conservatory. A French-American teacher, wonderful Malcolm Walker, who had me hung on his lips for hours. 

The Juilliard School of Dance was performing tonight so we got tickets. The program included works by Twyla Tharp, Mark Morris, Lar Lubovitch and Ohad Naharin, the first and the last ones being my favourite. I’m very grateful to Tobias that he insisted that I came. I wasn’t in the mood to watch dance – nor was I to attend the singing class. My resistance yielded very quickly and I’m glad it did. This was a gift of a million gallons of pure positive energy.

We went back to Ulysses’ place, had a great meal and sang three-part songs together with Tobias. I feel blessed to have such friends.

The past week had been spent in partying, clubbing, going out with friends, going to the cinema and to concerts. I wanted to stay away from music. A welcome release even if the thought of Andy doesn’t leave my mind a single moment. 

To be and not to look like it

On my stereo Freddy is singing a Spanish version of Gershwin’s The Man I Love with her deep and sensuous voice. Amazing to think that this woman was a maid who enjoyed singing in clubs and bars in Cuba. She got to record just one album. But one was enough. It’s beautiful. It’s Bévinda’s producer who discovered the tapes and decided to re-release them on CD. I don’t think anyone took notice, but as soon as I heard her voice, I feel in love with it.

Speaking of love, I was (again) the wilful puppet to my imagination tonight when I accepted a blind date. A blind date? It had been a long time since I last went to one. Blind date, but not a deaf date, because I talked two hours with the person on the phone yesterday. The description I have gathered led my imagination to run wild (and romantic... sensuous, sexuous...?). When asked if I wanted to see a picture of him. All I knew was that he was half Indian, in his early forties, that he had a wife who passed away, and a teenage daughter he loved dearly. "I work out a lot" he added. I replied no. "I liked to be surprised." I said. 

And a surprise it was. A big one. He was staying at a posh hotel near the Montparnasse Tower. The door opened and all my silly fantasy deflated in a second. How someone could be baiting someone else with what obviously was a big fat lie, knowing that the truth would sooner or later be uncovered just eludes me. I didn’t say anything. I was furious and laughing at myself for being so foolish and stupid. My blind date was fat. And nervous. He may have been athletic in his younger years, but nothing much remained of it. The stated age may had been conveniently diminished on the phone, but theose years did shine in all their glory in front of my eyes. He offered me to come. I sat down and asked for a glass of sparkling water. Obviously he knew the deception wasn't much to my liking. We chatted for a little while – long enough so not to be rude. But why did I compel myself to be so polite? I wonder.

A pathetic attempt to forget Andy, obviously.

Oh sweet mystery of love, I’ll never get thee.