LIVE SHOW review!

VENUE:  State 118 gallery, Olympia, WA, 9/15/2002

PLAYERS:  Jack Wright, Bob Marsh, Arrington Di Dionyso, Jeffrey Morgan

Not a "standard" live review... a Zzaj attempt at "capturing the sonic moments" in verbiage

Intro to Bob at State 118 (a new art gallery in downtown Oly); reminisce about Entropy & Mike Khoury... big "Hi" to Jack, remembering Jeffrey Morgan... practice... lone writer on the floor, try to achieve the sense of the abstract needed for... interviewer  gets interviewed by Jack & Bob... talk about Oly, shellfish, Korean culture... or lack thereof... ZEITGEIST was the playspace in Detroit??? clams returning... too many for any one man... improvise the review; watch cords being placed & wound 'round the cello... hope Bert makes it in with Jeffrey (which he does... that's Bert Wilson, Oly's own world-class reedist)... vox thru a DJ headset, with the cello spacey, but prob'ly not as strange as it may get.  

Locals begin to arrive (8:45), Bert, Arrington & Jeffrey... scene is gently alive with the sounds of sleight pandemonium... bass clarinets with Jack/Arrington... Jack sez' "Rotcod, c'mon around, seein' as how there's SPACE AVAILABLE"... Jack in socks, Bob with 1 shoe, slow start, very intricate... Bob uses his shoe to "balance" the cello; chilly floor, lights lowered, space is invaded by "little" sounds (fully packed, though); someone from the gallery furnishes "chat" in background; you can see the wizards begin to read each others' minds, fear left behind, truly in another land... the cello down under, almost to Aussie-land, sun peeking thru little clouds over horizons, undimmed, sax solo, strings waiting, sunfrost sparkle shining, cello strings slide, little shops of horrors appear in the echoes, tasteful nuances brighten the converging sky on the eve of planetary alignment so rare, angelhair with voices dripping with sloe perspire, noises from the beat years encourage Jack to go looser & looser in ascension; there will be no metal tonite, fancy takes a pleasant flight to othersides of the classic sides & speaks (ever so easily)... it is time, suspended, with ancient chorales as reminders of the diffusion of fractal light spoken and issued forth in duets that turn to triads, quadruples & other combinations of sonic delight for your minds' ear... some deep currents pulling the players & the ears of the listeners evermore to VORTEX!

Art gallery, musical frisbee & the weight of the tongs on Bob's cello, in combo with 21st century beat-rap thru 'lectric microtones... bass clarinet from Jack emphasizes the rhythmic chance, clearly a slow dance, improvising us to the beauty that intricacy reveals... 2 roust-about pioneers; no glam here, just gets more magick as the moment grows, touching nodes the listener never has taken advantage of... streams of emerald fire enter and glisten... envy becomes clearer as the vision slows, matures & grows in to a sonic jewel... no TV, no sound bytes, simply a matter of power realized through exploratory urges on the ground of the (soon to be defunct) State 118.

Odd-men out, not wanting to stand... Arrington joins for a triad... voltage higher, quickly ascend to a meeting on the edge; a sort of full-fledged parody of pandemonia, then just as swiftly decline; getting to know the nooks & crannies; air becomes a bond, little pieces of wind blown to oblivion & you can hear the "big band" comin' 'round in some measure clothed in sylk pyjamas... here's that voice again, scratching the surface of your braincase, reminding that all is never as it seems... new dimension etched around the structures built up in your essence, & enlightening, cajoling, even PUSHING you to remember what Jung had in mind... tho' it wasn't Carl!  Existence is the essence of experience, leading you down one side & up the other... pause... research cause in double voices, triad rejoices in the moment of creation, abandon becomes the silent standard, clearing the way for a better blues... harder muse... you must choose, the time to set your path... no wrath here, purely a matter of energy becoming sound... cleaning the cells; 2 Hoovers freeing your thoughts from the vacuum convention has locked them into... long passages become eons... you travel spatially to sonique moons & ride alien thoughts.

Jeff/Jack back, last time was 1988 (or so), smooth & deep, no wicked sleep, quiet fury unleashed, some bubbly touches like champagne on a Lebanese red high... Morgan like a 1/4 horse, herding the edge of the etherspace... Wright in explosive splats painting in sonic blasts from the past for future generations, sax tongues speaking (never softly) on a trainride to never-never... let yourself be IN the surprise, bounce frivolously from ear to here, an eternity blast... 2 gents waling the late night reed paths chosen so many light years ago & you know their souls are coming out of those bells, brightly rounding the corners of your intersectioned mind... colors blending ever more deeply & art school traumas become reality for the chosen few who wonder how they wound up at State 118... beats & wheezes, physical stances distinguish them from "so much smooth snazz", a thunder piece from the Twilite Zone!

A portion of the tour that I (unfortunately) wasn't able to attend was the "Illuminated Orchestra", as a part of a workshop that Jack & Bob did on Sunday, May 19th.  I was able to capture a couple of (pretty surreal) images of Bob Marsh as the "conductor" of this orchestra, though... check 'em out!

If you enJOYed this LIVE review, please e-mail us at rotcod@attbi.com & tell us so... & if you DIDN'T enjoy it... tell us THAT, too, eh?

Rotcod Zzaj

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