Another of those heavy days. I hardly managed to emerge from my comatose state, but managed to complete the music for FangYi's piece, Just, that she will present to a limited audience next week in YLan. Just was created for a group of dancers that she's training and nurturing. They may not be the best dancers, but their vitality and dedication is compelling.
The piece went through numerous changes and alterations. FangYi had told me a few months ago that the National Theatre had highly encouraged her to show Just alongside her duo with Akram Khan and another work with dancers from the New York City Ballet for those two evenings in October. Sadly, that won't be. I don't know when or where.
She asked me to attend a rehearsal the following day after I came back from Kaohsiung. Just was nearly finished and she was pleased to show it to me in its entirety. At last!!! I had missed the first performances in Macau last year - although it was still a work in progress then. With the costumes, the lighting and bien sûr, a good sound system, we may have something, if not deep and overwhelming, at least catchy and extremely entertaining. Whence the title: Just.
I will see what FangYi will say about the new ending of the music. I now expect everyone to request rewrites in the music. As I said to a friend this morning, I should consider myself blessed to have found someone like Jo Kanamori as an artistic soul brother. I can find some consolation in the thought when I start working with other people.
Another way to follow is to present my own work. Like this play, Before my Eyes.
I revised the mixing of O Verão, the first song I wrote with Bévinda some six years ago. I added some light percussion and a violin line for the chorus. But the song was quite fine the way it was. We now have seven songs for Fukaeri:
Brothers (anh / em)
and we decided to include Butterfly Rider after I played the song to Bévinda.
I still have to make the arrangement for Mon Amant, finish a new song, Black Monday (a title which is likely to change). Bévinda said I needed to sing another song. I had those ideas for it, Beautiful Loser. We'll see if anything comes out. But in my mind, this project would be better off as Bévinda produced by Aaken, as Charlotte Gainsbourg had her last album produced by Beck...
Tomorrow, I shall take a dive and keep on with the music of Double Yellow Line. That is, if Chubby isn't home. I came back from the cinema tonight and saw most of the belongings in boxes and suitcases in the dining room. I had bumped into him before I left the house. He was with a friend who was carrying a big black suitcase. I didn't expect him to pack everything tonight. He said he would be moving out on the 21st. His room is practically empty, save for his computer near his bed and the bare bookshelves...
We hardly exchange more than two words everyday. I felt a tinge of sadness pinch my heart at the sight of all these boxes, waiting to be taken away to another place.
Our house sharing chapter ends on a silent, bitter note.
'Strawberry Boy' Ryan dropped by yesterday to bring his presents for Chubby. I had told him that Ryan wanted to see him, but he didn't seem to bother. He went out to see his own friends. Ryan was slightly disappointed. He really likes Chubby. I should stop calling him so. Now it's Tsai Hsin Chin, my former flatmate.
The film I went to see was a beautiful adaptation of mangaka Yoshihiro Tatsumi's graphic autobiography, A Drifting Life. I was surprised to learn that the director was from Singapore, Eric Khoo. I didn't have any clue what the film was about. I only felt like watching a film. My friend and future flatmate, yoga-teacher Ryan vaguely said it was a mixture of (dark) stories about post-war Japan. Would I be interested? The poor selection at the theatres (mostly Hollywood blockbusters and local romantic comedies) left me no choice but to see that film, Tatsumi, despite the fact that the film was in Japanese with only Chinese subtitles... Yet I managed to understand most of it. Not the words, but the intention. The film was one of its kind and offered so much food for thought. But again, the theme that left a strong impression, was the struggles of life and the creativity.