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MP3 Lalage - Live on Sonarchy

“The naked human voice is heard, transformed into celestial chorales, words are understood, then reduced to shimmering shards laced with new meaning; an unearthly and gorgeous collection.” (Amy Denio)

7 MP3 Songs in this album (54:40) !
Related styles: Avant Garde: Electro-Acoustic, Spoken Word: Poetry, Mood: Dreamy

People who are interested in Imogen Heap Laurie Anderson Robert Ashley should consider this download.


Details:
Lalage is:
Lara Candland: Poetry, voice
Christian Asplund: Live processing, voice

This album was recorded live on Sonarchy Radio, a Jack Straw Productions, Seattle, heard live weekly on KEXP and on the web.
All sounds were sampled and processed live from the artists’ voices only. No overdubs or processing were added later, and no sounds were prepared beforehand.

1. you were a cold stretch of beryl 8:52
2. discreet conjecture between physicians 6:03
3. carver absconds the liturgy 9:25
4. des esseintes encrusts a gem bouquet 7:36
5. late june 6:24
6. longtemps 8:23
7. purpling cuticles/02’s zero 8:01
(Lyrics at bottom of this document)

“Long-time collaborators Christian Asplund… and Lara … demonstrate a profound understanding of the art of improvisation. Intention, focus, and intuition are clearly their aesthetic guides. The result is an unearthly and gorgeous collection of pieces.
“Lara’s rich and evocative poetry is inspired by the dichotomy of beauty and brutality of surgery, illness and medicine – and by her childhood memories in Utah contrasted with her adult experiences of raising children in that barren but beautiful land.
“Lara develops a character for each piece’s performance; singing, reciting and then fragmenting the text, she evokes unique moods and physical environments, which are then amplified by Christian’s ingenious choices for live electronic processing. The clever treatment of sound is chosen with intuition and empathy.
“The sonic result of this compelling collaboration is deeply moving; the naked human voice is heard, transformed into celestial chorales, words are understood and then reduced to shimmering shards laced with new meaning, thus demonstrating the depths and eternal questions of the human soul.
“In short, Lalage is a superb example of creative improvisation.”
--Amy Denio

Lalage is the latest collaboration of Lara Candland and Christian Asplund. Seattle audiences may remember their Seattle Experimental Operas, “A Girl’s Body at Crepuscule”, “The Archivist”, “Floralesque”, “Liquid Girls”, and “Sunset with Pink Pastoral”. Lalage “layers text, drones and live sampling to create lush and evocative ecotopes for the ear” (Sonarchy website).

Recorded at Jack Straw Productions, 17 July 2010
Doug Haire, Engineer
Mastered by Troy Sales
Illustration and design: Danijel Zezelj
Supported in part by grants from the New Spectrum Foundation, the Barlow Endowment, BYU School of Music, and Jack Straw Productions.
More audio, info, etc.: https://www.tradebit.com
Scores: https://www.tradebit.com
More CDs: https://www.tradebit.com

Comprovise Records 201101
©Christian Asplund 2011


Lyrics:

you were a cold stretch of beryl
emanating a steepled protrusion
until the surgeon sighed and cracked you
outvied death for you
pleaded with the chief to leave you here
(his stipulus hanging in the theatre’s air)
**
the duskier moments passed through a killing drama
horizoned by clean white walls
when the doc descried wren’s faltering vision
its stumbling out of from your ear—
in fact you were dead
your soul enacted its departure
gravitating
as it is designed to do
ceilingward
doomed to leave you just then
**
drop your playthings the cutter shouted your surfeit is prudenter to save
strictly following the book he learned from
fitting the wren back in through your ear

discreet conjecture between physicians—
their richer philological blunders quickened the cure
corkless substances wafted on the sinews—
your body’s cordage tightens against the doc’s jostling
your gored cocoon balances the room’s minuter barometric measurements
**
this inscape is more picturesque
than you remember—what a spectre!
axles resist lifting
indurated by an artless disease
(wring an entomology from the beautiful slide
foresooken just in time to gloat)
*
italicized—
your wilted words—
i felt sure my diagnosis
was correct

carver absconds the liturgy
you won’t need this where you’re going
you hear from within ether’s fabulous balloon
right before you were smoten and dressed in a flock of garments—
crowned in the solstice diadem
bridalled to freckled bees
who capered at your famished dimmering
**
the carver sings your canticle
o bloom at the end of a stalk
you are not composed of marble
do not dissent
refuse artifice for the long and wide scope of eternity
swim across the river
to the eighth day

Des Esseintes Encrusts a Gem Bouquet on the Back of a Tortoise: Au Rebors Abridged


No 1.

to do things with color:
he finally decided
on a series of stones
the mahogany-red hyacinth
of compostella
followed by the sea-green aquamarine
the vinegar pink balas ruby by
the pale slate coloured sudermania ruby

No 2.

☎ me.


No 3.

this primitive system
is what we have:
a bouquet made up
with gems of a strong
and definite green—
asparagus green chrysoberyls
leek-green peridots
olive-green olivines—
and these sprang from twigs
of almandine and uvarovite
of a purplish red, which threw
out flashes of harsh, brilliant
light like the scales of tartar that
glitter on the insides of wine casks



No 4.

my world
is a sonnet
in huysmans’ house

you can ☎ me there.

No 5.

but he absolutely
refused to consider:
the oriental turquoise
which is used for brooches
and rings and which
together with
the banal pearl
and the odious coral
forms the delight
of the common herd


No 6.

it rains
handfuls
of
slush

the grass
is peridot and chrisoberyl
and a little jade
in our strange
weather

these gems
are stolen

we enter
each weather
new

do you
love me

you never
☎ + ed

i asked
you to forgive me

once more

do you love me

the grass
says yes

please say yes

please
say
yes
too

the blue
water
sinks low
and goes
to sleep
to wake
and sparkle
again
only
at daybreak


late june

i wear dotted swiss
to the wedding
the bride’s bouquet
composed of many blooms
the only important flower
the child’s pinky
the lily-of-the-valley
*
my dress
has a lamb-chop sleeve
the fabric green
paler than lime chiffon
yellower than sea
truer than moss
more soothing
than a mother
if i can find
a word
that says green
i will never write


longtemps
provo—2nd n.—e. of smith’s—recently
1.
my tongue fails
i ♥ jesus
but then the lady cutting mango
hands the baby a napkin
that must be why
i am not disheartened
*
my daughter
smears crema and queso
on her corn
we all palm
big and small chiles
*charcoal
*a small chair
**sno-cones
i put all the commas back
the butcher saws through bone
my story happens whether i think it does or not
*the baby pats her sister
*the sister screams
*the tortillas are warm
*the bag of limes
is $1
how can summer always happen?
the lady clears her throat
i understand her

2.
i was in bed with messaien
a harp
and a celesta
a plump heart
(shimmer)
was pulled up to our chins
still warm
still beating
until we slept

3.
she distinguishes herself
from the other applicants
by her lack of intellectual rigor
an uncompromising
refusal to sparkle
and by publishing nothing

4.
she was in bed with feldman//each note took a long time



5.
september 1:
the kids slide down the tubes
all the way into each pool
ropes of licorice encomia melted ice
the bleachers were too hot
my towels never came clean
an unfamiliar baby
crawls vigorously towards me
popcorn chicken
in a greasy baby
*time is a pool
*jello on a plate
this is the first masterpiece


purpling cuticles/02’s zero
her swollen forehead
her codicil repealed
inviolable soul in its frequent floating haunt
*
by the end of the ritardando
the nurse unfurls cerements
the bone breathes abstemiously
soul carries its small bundle to ceiling’s crest
o smitten eye
open on these abundant phials and capsules
the anointing oil
your wheel still turning
come back and repair this dilapidation
*
the hair is unbraiding
so hurry and creak the hinge
come back—your lovely deer are watching

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