Atsumori's Fue (Flute)

Our February  performance of ‘Atsumori’ has me composing for flute again. My appreciation for the flute came, in some ways, in reverse (East to West). I didn’t care for the western flute until after I moved to Japan. There I learned to appreciate the ‘distorted’ sound of the noh flute (altered in its construction so it doesn’t overblow at the octave) and the three-dimensionality of the shakuhachi (from a distant blur to crystal-clarity, pure tone to white noise and back, like turning the dial on a radio). Further exploration brought me to other non-western flutes (of Iran, Bali, Java and Sumatra), then to the west via Debussy and Eric Dolphy, and finally to flute with electronics, free improve and extended techniques.

In ‘Atsumori’, the flute is an essential part of the staging, the ensemble and the story. The February performance will reflect multiple influences. Dance sections will require recognizable noh rhythm patterns, and so will be mash-up/hommage to 20th century Japanese composer Takemitsu Toru. Other sections will be more improvisatory. It’s great to be composing again

Soju Kai Seattle

Soju Kai Seattle (Kumiko Negishi-Lawrence and Ken Lawrence) is planning its next lecture/demonstration on Japanese traditional theater "Noh". We are featuring the play "Atsumori"（敦盛) which was taken from the Japanese saga Heike Monogatari "The Tale of the Heike"

Soju Kai (which literally means ‘group of the twin trees’) was founded in Tokyo, Japan in 1975 by Yoshio and Yukie Negishi. The group originally focused on Noh, the traditional masked dance drama of Japan. Since inheriting the title, Kumiko Negishi-Lawrence and Kenneth E. Lawrence now present traditional and traditionally-based performances and lecture/demonstrations focusing on noh as well as storytelling forms from throughout East, Southeast and South Asia.

The Manuscript Found in Saragossa by Jan Potocki

A European take on The Thousand Nights and a Night by Polish author Jan Potocki (1761-1812). Stories within stories within stories.

Genesis of The Narrative

The Story So Far regarding my interest in narratives seems, in hindsight, to be stream-of-consciousness. I can trace it, oddly enough, to a concert I saw in high school. That's when my father took me to see Andres Segovia in concert at the Seattle Opera House. Already so old he could barely walk, Segovia played a beautiful classical guitar concert that mesmerized the audience. This inspired me to take up classical guitar and, five years later, to move to Seville, Spain and learn all I could about flamenco guitar.

While in Spain I met and fell in love with Kumiko. When she left Spain three years later, I followed her to Japan and asked her to marry me. Things fell into place for us in Japan, and we ended up staying for eight years. Musically I was drawn to the flutes of Japan, especially the shakuhachi the noh flute. Because of work (as a columnist for the Japan Times newspaper and a correspondent/editor for the International Theatre Institute at the National Noh Theatre) and my mother- and father-in-law, both professional Noh teachers and performers, I was able to see many, many performances of Noh. I began learning the music, chant and movement of Noh, and performed extensively throughout the Tokyo area.

When our kids were old enough to attend school we left Japan, relocating to Hawaii. During my tenure as Head Archivist for the Video Archives at the University of Hawaii's Kennedy TheatreI took part in many performances, studying with visiting artists from Japan, Korea, Java, Bali, Sumatra, India, China and Korea. In an attempt to better understand the theatre forms I was experiencing, I read profusely. Invariably translations of texts were as helpful as the theory books, and infinitely more enjoyable.

After returning to the Seattle area, I went through withdrawals. I continued to read profusely, but had very few people to share my addiction to epic poetry with. I joined the Northwest Classics Society, and through them discovered many of the classics of western literature, including Milton, Virgil, Homer, and Dante as well as Beowulf, Gilgamesh, Arthurian literature and Greek mythology. I also offered classes through the University of Washington's Experimental College on the Heike Monogatari and the many noh plays it inspired. Then someone suggested I record my lectures and edit them into a weekly radio show...

The Narrative

Many people have expressed enthusiasm for our project. Our list of people to interview includes a supreme court judge (on law in Shakespeare, Dante, and Greek tragedy), a Japanese Noh performer, an expert on Greek myth, a chanter of Kyrghz oral epic, a Shakespearean actor, an avant garde filmmaker, a collector of antique Japanese scroll paintings, a cellist and an expert in Chaucer and Arthurian literature.

The Slaying of Meghanada by Michael Madhusudan Datta

Written in 1861, the verse narrative 'Meghanadavadha Kavya' ('The Slaying of Meghanada') is a true meeting of East and West. The author, Michael Madhusudan Datta, was a successful poet in both Bengali and English and well-versed in Western and Indian literary styles. Those familiar with the Western classics will recognise respectful nods to Homer, Milton and Virgil throughout. Like Homer's 'Iliad', 'Meghanada' begins in the middle of a prolonged war and ends with funeral rites for the hero of a defeated city (here Meghanada acts as Hector, his father Ravana as Priam, Lanka as Troy). Datta's poetic description of a visit to the underworld owes much to Virgil's Aeneid. The opening lines of the epic are clearly a nod to the opening lines of Milton's 'Paradise Lost'. And just as Milton chose Satan to be his protagonist, Datta presents the demon king Ravana in a sympathetic light.

Readers familiar with the Ramayana will appreciate this unique take on the Indian epic. Most will recognise the story of Ravana's kidnapping of Sita, retold by Sita in canto 4 of 'Meghanada'. The poem has been beautifully translated by Clinton B. Seely, who includes an interesting introduction and an extensive glossary, essential to the majority of readers who would otherwise be overwhelmed by the many demons, gods, goddesses and humans that populate Datta's wonderful epic. An excellent addition to the many Ramayanas available to us.

Gary Wittner/Thelonius Monk

Fans of Bill Frisell should check out Gary Wittner's CD 'Roadway'. Though few who listen to Gary Wittner will mistake him for Bill Frisell, these two unique guitarists are similarly rooted in Americana. Wittner's strongest influence by far is the quirky, angular music of Thelonius Monk.

Though only three of the thirteen pieces on 'Roadway' are Monk tunes, Monk's presence is felt throughout. Wittner's many original compositions are clearly and profoundly Monk-inspired. The three remaining pieces, solo guitar pieces recorded live at Concordia University in Montreal, are country blues in feel, but here again the spirit of Monk bursts forth occasionally. The instrumentation adds quirk with the odd addition of Howard Johnson (tuba, contra-bass clarinet) to the guitar-bass-drums core.

Aiko Shimada: Blue Marble

Aiko Shimada: Blue Marble I discovered this CD thanks to the recommendations of a computer. "People who buy Laurie Anderson CDs," it told me, "also bought Aiko Shimada's 'Blue Marble'." This was a major breakthrough. At the time (2002?), most computer recommendations were ridiculous. "You like classical guitar? You might also like the Spice Girls!" After this I began to trust my computer just a bit more.

The Laurie Anderson comparison is a stretch, but understandable. There are moments reminiscent of Pink Floyd's "Dark Side of the Moon," others of the the Kronos Quartet. Sometimes Shimada sings accompanied by a band, sometimes by a string quartet ala "Eleanor Rigby". Sometimes it's just her and her electric guitar, or just her ethereal voice overdubbed over itself. There are also two instrumentals, one for violin and viola, the other for electric guitar (Bill Frisell!) and string quartet. But for all its diversity of instrumentation, Blue Marble is solid and cohesive, strong but gentle.

On Beyond Zebra (epics): Acts of Andrew

Pardon my blasphemy, but many of the more exciting stories were removed from the New Testament. The (now apocryphal) Acts of Andrew is a case in point. The travels of the apostle Andrew, his miracles and eventual martyrdom, make for fascinating reading.

I first became interested in the Acts of Andrew through Dennis MacDonald's book 'Christianizing Homer: The Odyssey , Plato, and the Acts of Andrew'. I was intrigued but not convinced by MacDonald's argument that the Acts of Andrew was a Christian retelling of Homer. And yet MacDonald's point-by-point comparison of the Odyssey and the Acts of Andrew enhanced my enjoyment of this (truly odd) story. In it Andrew survives among fierce animals, calms storms, heals the blind, raises the dead, and defeats armies. He also causes an illegitimate embryo to die and rescues a boy from his incestuous mother.

In his book 'The Acts of Andrew in the Country of the Cannibals,' Robert Boenig traces the development of the story by presenting translations from the Greek, Latin, and Old English. A highlight is the Old English version, in which a Beowulf-ish Andrew (with the kind assistance of Jesus, of course) rescues Matthias from the country of cannibal anthropophagi (literally man-eaters). Absurd, perhaps even heretical, but fascinating stuff.

Brad Shepik

There are many stories, myths and cliches about a player who is so excellent that, after hearing that person perform, other players become frustrated and throw their instruments out the window, off a bridge and/or into a river. Brad Shepik is one of those players. In fact, he's a level higher. I went to the same school as Brad Shepik for a very short time in the early 80s. Shepik (then Schoeppach) must have been nineteen at the time. When I first heard him play, not only was I inspired to toss my guitar, but the people who inspired me to toss my instrument were inspired to toss their instruments! He blew away the people that blew me away, then moved on.

I followed his career for a short time in Seattle, then he was off to New York. Shepik has gone many different directions, musically speaking. On 'Drip', he forms a trio with Scott Colley on bass and Tom Rainey on drums. The eight tracks showcase not only Shepik's excellent guitar playing, but also his skills as a composer. A highlight is 'Reve pour Louis', a beautiful and respectful 'jazzification' of the gamelan music of Java.

Ibrahim the Mad

The play 'Ibrahim the Mad' follows the reign of Ibrahim I, the mentally unstable Sultan of the Ottoman Empire who reigned from 1640 until 1648. Ibrahim was placed on the throne after the death of his brother, Murad IV, probably by his mother, Kosem Sultan, who wanted to rule the empire by proxy. Murad IV had ordered him killed upon his own death, but Ibrahim had been allowed to live, probably because he was too mad to be a threat. Ibrahim had spent his entire life in the Golden Cage, a prison with unreachable stained glass windows, with a few deaf-mute servants and some harem girls, under the constant and reasonable fear that he would be put to death. When guards showed up to bring him to the throne, he refused to go, thinking it was a trick. Ibrahim's rule grew ever more unpredictable. He raised and executed a number of viziers, declared war on Venice, and brought the empire almost to collapse in a very short space of time. Eventually the Grand Mufti, with the permission of Kösem, led a coup to overthrow Ibrahim. He was deposed, sent back to the Golden Cage and later strangled.

The play opens with the terrified Ibrahim being coaxed out of his cell by his mother Kösem.

Nine Visits to the Mythworld

"Nine Visits to the Mythworld" is the second book of Robert Bringhurst's three volumes of translations of mythtellers of the Haida people. Bringhurst manages to avoid the "Once upon a time" sameness of many collections by translating, not retelling, the tales. "Nine Visits" focuses on the mythteller Ghandl of the Qayahl Llaanas. Personal favorites include "The Way the Weather Chose to be Born" and "Spirit Being Living in the Little Finger."

Bulgakov's 'The Master and Margarita

I first experienced "The Master and Margarita" as a play at university. It was the final presentation of a Russian exchange student for her (I think) MA in directing. It was an odd but strangely haunting experience. Since then I have read the book, reread it (in a different translation), listened to two different audiobooks, and watched three different movie/TV adaptations. I also plan to read the graphic novel once I seek out an affordable copy.

Bulgakov's masterpiece is a tough one to describe. It is a beautiful and touching love story, a slapstick attack on Soviet-era hypocrisy, a rewriting of the bible and an homage to Goethe's Faust. It features a talking cat, a hyper-real Jesus and a fascinatingly bureaucratic 'Satan.' Magical and profound, it deserves a second, third or fourth read.

There are two audiobooks available. One is an unabridged and 'serious' reading. The other is abridged, and the reader clearly interprets the novel as comic. There are also three adaptations available on video. The love and respect for the original is clear in the Russian TV miniseries is reflected in its faithful adherence to the text. The same love and respect are apparently (and not surprisingly) found in Poland. The Polish version also follows Bulgakovs text and dialogue faithfully. These two versions differ in style, and because the Russian version is more recent the special effects are more impressive. But both are well worth watching. The third version, however, is not. Perhaps the director felt he was paying homage to Bulgakov, but by rewriting the story as a realistic autobiography, he squelches the originals magic.

On Beyond Zebra (Epic): Scanderbeide

My most exciting recent discovery is 'The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe', a series of translations published by the University of Chicago Press that focuses on works by 16th and 17th century women. My first glimpse into the series was Margherita Sarrochi's 'Scanderbeide'. Published in the 17th century, Scanderbeide's claim to fame is that it is the first historical heroic epic authored by a woman. More importantly, it is an excellent read. Sarrocchi took as her subject the war of resistance against the Ottoman sultanate by George Scanderbeg, a fifteenth-century Albanian warrior-prince.

The 'ide' in the title means tale, as in the Iliad (tale of Illium) or the Aeneid (the tale of Aeneas). Readers familiar with classical epics will recognise the many references to these works, as well as Tasso and Ariosto. But the Scanderbeide is a unique and enjoyable work. George Scanderbeg was apparently an obvious choice for the subject of a heroic poem. His war against the Turks saved the Roman church from its greatest threat, the Ottoman Empire. Sarrocchi deftly weaves a complex and fascinating story from her sources.

"Tibia Ex Tempore-Medeival Sketches"