IMPACT 2010: Rhythm Of Chaos Explores New Terrain

Collaborateurs of IMPACT 2010 produced a theatre of new genre which might be referred to as multimedia. Unfortunately the commercial world of computing has distorted that term, which has come to mean a computer system with sound and video. Originally, the term referred to simultaneous and competing media in a theatrical or gallery setting in which the elements of media competed for attention, and the viewer/listener assembled these into a private assemblage that varied from viewer to viewer. This was in contrast to Intermedia, in which the media were carefully orchestrated by the creators for a predetermined effect and mixed media, which was inherited from visual art culture and rested somewhere between the two other genre, including competing and coordinated media.

IMPACT Director John Gilbert has been experimenting with these genre since the 1960s, including his "multimedia" opera Rotation, which tested these ideas in various combinations. But now concepts of collaboration, new digital technology, networking, social platforms, and intermedia, create greater textural and conceptual possibilities. To enable these collaborateurs to realize their conceptions, IMPACT 2010 assembled an excellent staff to help the IMPACTORS shape their dreams into reality. Incidentally, collaborateurs is a word coined by JoEllen Dolan. It is a very appropriate term since it describes people working together who are very focused and extraordinary artists. More than just collaborators, collaborateurs.

What has changed dramatically in recent years, is not only the technology, but the 21st Century notion of collaboration, which is still undergoing transformation and means much more than accepting compromise among competing ideas of collaborateurs. IMPACT 2010 puts everyone at a new entry point in using technology to appropriate and develop artistic expression through collaborative media.

While the genre may still be difficult to define, it was easy to experience on Thursday, August 5th at Loewe Theatre in New York City in a collaborative media production, Rhythm of Chaos. Participants of IMPACT 2010 created new media work in less than two weeks, and what emerged was perhaps a new medium in which in the disparate elements of media have melded into a new format. This is consistent with McLuhan's observation of the emergence of a new medium which absorbs the practices and content of previous media before synthesizing a new format with its own idiosyncratic features.

While the work was performed live, it was also streamed live on the Internet. What is provided here are thumbnail descriptions and critiques of the collaborative work which integrated scenes created by interdisciplinary teams into a sequence that generated contextual meaning as it unfolded moment to moment. The reviews listed below show the personnel as a historical record of the collaborative teams.

RELAY-TION-I'M was a masterful blending of Korean traditional culture, journey, connection, transformation, and individuality in the context of the whole. This work progressed seamlessly through three sections, with a strong stamp of professional stage awareness.

A ram Kim: Choreography

Min-Kyung Shin: Costumes, designs

Abigail Loutoo: Music & audio composition

Soon Taek Hong: Music & audio composition
Garam Kim: Video

Musicians: Garam Kim: Live jangu Soon Taek Hong: Live taegum

Live Dancers: A ram Kim, Min-Kyung Shin, Garam Kim, Soon Taek Hong, Abigail Louto

WALKER

This piece explored the nature of empathy through different media and technologies. Showing only the back of the walker created a distance between the audience and the subject. Placing the audience at the point of view of the subject was an attempt create empathy. The world trade center footage added a new level of political awareness. The music created a window into the mind of the subject, revealing feelings of melancholy, despair and finally hope as she walks by the new construction site of the World Trade Center Museum. Outside the theater, was a message board for exploring empathy as a concept with the audience and members of the community.

Bo-Yeon Kim: Co-director, lead actor

Soo-yeon Choo : Co-director, sound recording, dancer

Chang In Baek: Filming and cinematography, editing and mixing video

Laura Dickens: Composer, mixer

Ji Hoon Oh: Photography, ending credits

BOLLYWOOD CAMEO
A surprise appearance by Lianne Sheplar planted in the audience continued the practice of extending the theatrical space into the audience and the aisles. Performing with panache and flair, Ms. Sheplar connected with audience in a playful reference to Bollywood music and dance epics.

ETERNAL RECURRENCE AND THE TONES OF CHAOS

The scene traced the development of a person throughout different stages of life where color and light symbolize the person's relationships. An underlying scheme controlled movement and color with a shift from simplicity to complexity, staring with slow movement and flowing towards a more chaotic movement and dance. The work explored the repetitive and cyclical nature of human life and society, the life cycle as a microcosm of human evolution, and chaos, chance, and randomness.

Frank Spigner: Music, audio, props

Young Jae Chon: Video, props

Eun Byowl Song: Stage performance, props

Hyo Jung Suh: Stage performance, props

Bo Eun Kim: Stage performance, props

Guest Performers:

Bo Yeon Kim, Heeyoung Lee, Yong Woong Won, Jee Yun Hong, So Hee Jeon

CHA.OR.MONY

Set between the bustling streets of NYC and a dream world where the rules of daily life our turned upside down, the main character goes from dreaming about her future in her present day life to an upside down dream world where she struggles to make sense of the unusual characters that she meets. The work moves from confusion and chaos into harmony between the characters when the main character resolves herself to being part of this strange new world and all of the characters celebrate together.

The group used several elements to show the struggle between chaos and order. The metaphor of a grocery bag and fruit shows the struggle between the dreams of the future (the fruit) and the desire to contain them or "order" them (the grocery bag). The use of projections, electronic and recorded music, as well as live video effects, enhances the viewers experience and understanding of this original work.

Grace Choi: Lead actress, vocal recording, music design

Seunghwan Hwang: Lead actor, film director, film editor

Yoonseon Choi: Choreographer, music editor, dancer 1

Jaehyun Kang: Costume design, set design, dancer 2

Lianne Sheplar: Director/ C flute, alto flute, music design, dancer 3

CHOICE

This scene explored "what if we can choose our relationships…?” Three projections reveal the past, the present, and the future. These become the entanglements that trap us. This scene produced some of the most stunning images, revealing a character struggling with inner chaos in a search for order.

Charlotte Ahlstrom : Shooting video, making sound, editing video, dancer
Hyo Eun Jang : Shooting video, making sound, editing video, dancer
Hyun Joo Kim : Shooting video, editing video, making materials, dancer
Hyun Ji Lim : Shooting video, editing video, making materials, dance
Jae Hwang Lee : Shooting video, making sound, editing video, main character

GOD AND GIRL

The scene began with everyday life as a repetition from God’s perspective, then added relationships among people to change the direction of the narrative. It also shifted to the perspective of a girl. The effects move realistic background scenes to abstract shapes that react in real time to the sounds generated on the stage, the drum, the basketball, the sounds of a newspaper, painting, and feet stomps. We see a girl painting, and suddenly a girl, who is video taping in the park, focuses the camera at the painting and the audience sees the work as it is completed.
Yong Woong Won: Basketball player
Li Shiyao: Tourist
Hee Young Lee: Drummer, God’s voice
Jung in Hur: Painter
Hanaro Kim: Girl , girl’s voice

PROGRESSION INTO THE FUTURE

The artists sought take the audience on a journey from present to future. Along the way, the performers show some of the obstacles that we still face that pose a threat to ourprogression. The performance illustrates that overcoming such challenges will unlock an era of endless possibilities.

Connor Hubeny: music

Jingya Liu: Live music, choreography

Eun Young Jeo: Costumes, choreography

Hye Won Han: Visuals

Sohee Jeon: Visuals

COLORS OF CHAOS
This explores a painter (chaos) from the past whose lover is a singer (order). To brainstorm his future with her, he draws a colorful picture of the singer’s wedding dress which is sewn by a seamstress on stage. Thus commences the chaos and chase…which unfolds as a delightful parable that might be from a Rossini opera or a Saturday Night Live skit.

Heakyung Woo: Singer, bride, audio editor

Yee Seul Ok: Dancer

Jiwon Park: Dancer

Robert Chen: Painter, video editor, groom

Sunghyun Kim: Fashion designer, minister

These works are kernels of ideas that have been nurtured through interaction, discussion, and use of technology to articulate and illustrate concepts.The composer Tan Dun observed this work and experiments going on at NYU in integrating and extending media and technology as narrative. He described the work as being an extension of opera, the fundamental narrative form that was first to integrate media. Film is simply an extension of opera, and now this new medium absorbs those practices and creates new ones.

Their focus is on collaborative technology, the tenet that technology extends the reach of humanity. The new technologies of the Internet, the social networks, and the professional alliances have increased the range and speed of communication. Yet the IMPACT workshop demonstrates that much more is needed to achieve understanding. Communication is just the beginning of developing mutual understanding and appreciation. IMPACTORS have discovered that technology can extend the range of human and artistic expression, but deep understanding across cultures and languages continues to challenge us.

IMPACT 2010 Rhythm of Chaos Collaborative Achievement

Glancing through the program of IMPACT 2010's Rhythm of Chaos uncovers many layers and threads of connections among participants of the NYU Steinhardt International Workshop, July 19-August 6. The performance on August 5th in Loewe Theatre was a resounding success. In less than three weeks the participants developed a consensus for a theme and collaborated in teams to produce a multimedia work that can be best described as a new genre for theatre.

In addition to the stellar planning and performances of the IMPACTORS (IMPACT is an acronym for Interactive Multimedia Performing Arts Collaborative Technology), credit must be given to an outstanding professional of gifted technician artists and counsellors who helped steer this complex constellation to its successful launching.

John Gilbert, Producer, Director of IMPACT
Youngmi Ha, Director of Music & Registrar
Chianan Yen, Director of Operations & Graphics/Imaging
Deborah Damast, Director of Dance (on Leave of Absence)
Tom Beyer, Technical Director
Julie Song, Administrative Director
Kevin Pease, Theatre Director
Heather Heiner, Dance & Movement Director
Keith Sklar, Visual Arts Director
Cris Dopher, Lighting Designer
Sooyeon Hong, Stage Manager
Sunmin Kim, Production Management, Counsellor
JoEllen Dolan, Assistant Technical Director
Kenji Calderón-Miyamoto, A.V. Technician
Kevin DeYoe, A.V. Technician
Jessica Goldberg, Camera 2, Counsellor
Jee Yun Hong, Camera 3, Counsellor
Jessica Lin Yeung, Camera 1

The performance capped three weeks of intensive immersion in technology, arts specializations, combined arts, and collaborative process.

IMPACT 2010 Rhythm Of Chaos

Chaos may not exist except as a concept. Thus the Rhythm of Chaos may suggest that all seemingly chaotic essences may really just be complex and irregular systems and may possibly define the structure of the universe. Maybe we are just encountering a delectable fractal concoction with high levels of coherence. So it is no surprise that IMPACTORS have come up with The Rhythm of Chaos as the title of their experiments in media. Rather than a contradiction, it represents a synthesis of polarities rich with meaning.

IMPACTORS from NYU IMPACT 2010 (Interactive Multimedia Performing Arts Collaborative Technology) have been exploring Chaos and Order, among other things, in creating new work for a production that is the culmination of their investigations and collaborations. Their work has been intense. There are 42 IMPACTORS and 17 staff intent upon using technology in the service of human expression in a final performance in Loewe Theatre on August 5 at 7:30 p.m.

They have gone on location shooting to South Street Seaport and the World Trade Area including the World Financial Center with its famous Wintergarden, Tear Drop Park and taken the Staten Island Ferry to video materials for their multimedia works.

This year IMPACTORS (a term invented by IMPACT's Administrative Coordinator Julie Song) have been organized into groups named for the solar system, the planets and other constellations. These teams emphasize interactivity and collaboration as they acquire new skills and understandings that relate technology to text, the performing arts, and the visual arts culture.

In addition, NYU IMPACT 2010 has become vividly present on FaceBook, transforming a social Internet platform into a professional forum where the business of the group is conducted, and works in progress are displayed and shared.

KUPALA 2010 (Summer Solstice)

Kupala is a Ukrainian celebration of summer solstice, which also couples with a midsummer's night dream, and has its origins in the original pagan festival (Kupalo was the god of Love and Harvest). Christianity appropriated it and combined it with the Nativity of St. John the Baptist. Somehow Summer Solstice is also appropriated as a significant part of the celebration as the longest day... the ultimate triumph of light over darkness awaiting the return of increasingly dark days as the earth swings into the next arc of the orbit when night regains its ascendancy.

At the Ukrainian Sports Center on Second Avenue in the East Village, Virlana Tkacz, Founding Director of the Yara Arts Group, created an evening of Kupala 2010, complete with entertainment, rituals, love potions, and a surprise guest. There were also two installation pieces: Infinity by Marybeth Ward, and Kupala, North Collins, NY by Andrea Wenglowskyj. It was an evening full of fun, and for me, a revelation of Ukrainian lore, which I have been investigating in preparation of creating new work.

All the women fashioned garlands that they wore for the celebration, which originally once meant the availability of the young girls for marriage. Everyone wrote a fortune that was fastened to a tree, and all were given candles.

The program began with a film Dora Was Dysfunctional by Andrea Odeznyska which was a beautiful, achingly funny account of the romantic life of a Ukrainian woman in L.A.
Cruel Love Songs were featured by Odarka Polanskyj-Stockert singing as she accompanied herself on an electric harp, supported by Redentor Jimenez on guitar. The delivery was soft and undulating, alluring and charming. "On the Night of St. John's Eve" was an evocative poem by Olena Jennings, enthusiastically received by the revelers of midsummer's night.

One of the highlights of the evening were the poems read by Bob Holman with the brilliant Bandura performer Julian Kytasty. Featured was a new poem about the Solstice, "Midsummer Night~My Heart is a Real Thing", performed by Bob Holman in association with Julian's intimate and mesmeric music. There was a casual presence in the execution that was attractive and sensitive to the moment.

A surprise celebrity was violinist Valeriy Zhmud who performed with the "technical support" of his iPod "ensemble," selections that were even more electrifying than his electrified fiddle. His work was dazzling and fearless, the music exploding from the strings with bravura and passion.

The Songs and Rituals were performed by a group, Girls, Girls, Girls, made up of Laryssa Czebiniak, Lycyna Kuncio, Olena Martynyuk, and Meredith Wright. Their singing created a sense of festivity during the candle lighting/floating ceremony and the distribution of Olesia Lew's love potion.

Closing out the program was The Debutant Hour, a girl's trio that was inventive, humorous, and lively. At the end they sang Happy Birthday to to Virlana, who is the spirit that drives and defines these wonderful events. As the audience dispersed, we each picked our fortune off of the tree. Mine was that "something interesting would happen to you under a bridge." I'm still waiting, but it clearly was more evocative than most fortune cookie messages.

As I reflect on the spirit of Kupala and my experience of cultural nuances that influence my work, I understand that the Ukrainian culture permeates the East Village, and the cultural energies of other groups intersect with the Ukrainian in forging an emerging identity that continually shifts and adjusts to the needs and vagrancies of time, place, and peoples. The Ukraine serves as the gateway to Russia from the West and the entrance to Europe from the East, assimilating the great traditions of the world into its own unique vision and art. Wandering around the Ukrainian Museum in the East Village, I began to see the Ukraine as a metaphor for humanity's struggle for freedom. I am told that the word Kozak (Cossack) came from an Arabic word that meant "free man".

The Ukrainian culture in the context of the East Village assimilates and distributes its energies into emerging identities that embrace the great traditions and cultures of the world. That may be the source of potency that makes the East Village so vibrant. It is East and West and South and North, pinpointed with an intensity that makes everyone a vital constituent in an an emerging cultural personality.

Sudden Fiction: The Ferry & Walt Whitman

He stood at the rear of the Staten Island Ferry, looking through the rain at the buildings of Manhattan. Hadn't Walt Whitman ridden the Ferry to Staten Island a hundred years earlier? What had Whitman seen? Somehow his words seemed to permeate the air around him --- each drop of rain measured itself to the irregular rhythms of his verse:  

What is then between us? What is the count of scores or hundreds of years between us? What ever it is, it avails not --- distance avails not, and place avails not, I too lived, Brooklyn of ample hills was mine, I too walk'd the streets of Manhattan Island and bathed in the waters around it, I too felt the curious abrupt questionings stir within me... Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged, Missing me one place search another, I stop somewhere waiting for you. 

 At last, he thought, I have found you. You ride these waters with me, as you always have. I was not silent before --- therefore I couldn't hear your songs in the air. When I looked at Manhattan, I strained to see myself, so I looked right through you. But you are here, Walt Whitman, your laughter and your tears comfort me. I feel you in the rain --- I hear you in the night. 

The ferry swung around Governor's Island. The Statue of Liberty could be seen through the rain, and the rain had provided him privacy on the deck. He roamed from side to side as if he was afraid he would miss something important that he should see. But there was little to see. The night and the rain were like huge curtains draped around him. 

The Statue of Liberty could be discerned as through a haze and looked more painted than real. He wondered how it could seem so beautiful from the front. When he had seen it from the New Jersey Turnpike, it looked as if you could wade out to it from the New Jersey Shore. He remembered also that you looked at it over the roofs of dirty old buildings and several junk yards. He thought this must demonstrate how all things beautiful have their ugly side, but he felt this reasoning was more a word game than the truth. 

Soon the Ferry was past the Statue and was suddenly suspended in time it seemed --- gliding on air --- for some unexplained reason the engines had been turned off and the ferry slid silently and smoothly through the darkness. To the side of the Ferry a barge floated with smoking garbage loaded on its surface. The rain had evidently extinguished the flames. 

The sound of a deep horn made him cast his glance on the other side of the Ferry. A large tanker moved by--- like a huge ghost ship --- ablaze with lights, the loading booms looked like ancient abandoned masts. 

The engines of the Ferry began to throb again abruptly, and the vibrations shook the frame of the ferry with a constant caress---as a mother gently shakes the cradle to coax her infant to sleep. He realized the engines must have been cut to permit the tanker to pass by the Ferry. 

As the Ferry cut an arc in the water in preparation to land at Staten Island, he looked into the sky. He couldn't be sure whether there were tears in his eyes or whether it was just the rain, but he felt an ineffable sadness, for he knew he would miss this. 

He looked at everything for the last time, and he was aware that there was too much to be seen at a single glance. He was sorry he had failed to look at everything with eyes that understood---until now. This final moment only impressed upon him how much he had missed, and how much more he would miss after he was gone. He stepped off the Ferry wondering if Walt Whitman had stopped, waiting for him somewhere up ahead.

The Bill of Rock

Having known Bill Rayner for many years, I had never heard him perform in his true setting of a rock band conceived in New Paltz in the 80s and still going strong. I had known him as a doctoral student who created inventive concoctions on the Fairlight, and composed contemporary music of all styles and genre. I knew of his background in Rock, but I didn't know it. At that time for me, he was the Bill of Composition and Contemporary Music. I knew he played a mean guitar, but I never really heard him play.

Recently he performed a gig at Wicked Willy's, and I had the good fortune to be there for a non-stop two-hour feast of music from the heart and soul of Last Generation with Billy Rayner (guitar, vocals), Dave Ostram (bass), and Mark Flynn (drums).

Billy has an immediacy and energy that infuses the space with electricity. His music is outstanding, much more insightful than the crowd at Wicked Willy's expects, but there were a number who realized that Last Generation is something special. Of course there are the others who don't care, as long as the music is loud and constant. His vocals are often lyrical and smooth or punching and driving. He slips in and out of voices in chimerical fashion, and his guitar provides raucous timbres or smooth and mellow vibes, more kinds of vibratos and right hand technique than one might hear in other bands, and it all is connected with the past while carving out a niche in the here and now.

His bassist, Dave Ostrom, is, as Rayner referred to him, awesome. He bass lines are pure liquid, original, with such shape and range that I was constantly amazed at his inventiveness. He creates a driving energy that Billy and the drummer, Mark Flynn, assimilate and fuse with their own work so that the ensemble is tight and yet incredibly open and versatile. Every moment is incandescent, vibrant, and even amidst the clamor of a come-and-go style bar like Willy's, thoughtful and perceptive. Standing in the middle of the band, his work took on a fusional role, constantly responding and commenting, and adding to and transforming the mix.

Mark Flynn is another musician that I knew of but had never heard his professional work. His contribution was integral, obviously attuned to the mood and ambiance of each work. He was often a catalyst to get things started, or to establish the song. His performance captured and propelled every moment. He also did backup vocals. Some believe that the driving force of a rock band is the drummer, and Flynn's perceptive empathic sense of what is going on and his anticipation of texture and expression might reinforce that perception. His work was very musical, at times, even lyrical.

Last Generation has gone through many iterations and generations. Billy has evolved over time and his work has no doubt deepened. His inspiration comes from his life and his connection with the past, his friends and family. It is work that I wished I had known earlier. It is of the past and present, and searching for a vision for the future. If you check out Last Generation, you will get a taste of the group, but only the spontaneity of the live moment can really give you a sense of the dynamism and charisma of the man that I have come to know now as the Bill of Rock.

Imagine a Saturday Musicale on the Lower East Side: The Artistry of Soyoung Min

Imagine a bright mid spring Saturday in New York on the Lower East Side. The sun is bright, but inviting, friendly and the air is fresh. Along East Broadway people are enjoying the day, walking, smiling, and waving to each other. Imagine coming upon a building reminiscent of Greek revival and entering into a friendly lobby, sitting with others who are waiting to go up to a private apartment where a concert of keyboard music awaits you in the splendor of a quiet afternoon with shafts of sunlight peaking through the shaded windows. Imagine a gracious host who is the husband of the artist, whose name is Jim, comes to the lobby to greet you and serve as your escort.

You are lifted up to this apartment for the afternoon musicale with large elevators on each side of the lobby, and you enter a room that has been prepared for this event, a spacious high ceiling living room with seats aligned along the north wall and to the side along the west wall that looks out over East Broadway. In the alcove created, lay the instruments that will soon speak to the occasion, a seven-and-a-half-foot harpsichord, green with gold trim, and a seven-foot concert Steinway grand with the lid fully extended. Both seemed poised for musicing.

You remove your shoes, and find your place to listen. As you settle into your seat, imagine that the artist Soyoung Min emerges from the bedroom, which almost seems as though it was planned to function as the offstage area. She is greeted with applause as she walks from the hallway into the livingroom and takes her place at the harpsichord.

She pauses. Then she touches the dual keyboard, and the strains of Frecobaldi's Toccata Settima seem to float from the instrument, tentative at first, almost as though the piece were being created on the spot in an improvised manner. The sound has an intimate though pervasive quality, extremely focused and resonant. Soyoung Min hovers on the brink of discovery and recognition, threading the exquisite linear textures with care and affection. One could imagine an inner vocalizing threading the musical line of the plucked notes as a metaphysical legato transcending the limitations of the instrument. This continues in the eloquent Tombeau fair a Paris sur la mort de Monsieur Blancheroche by Johann Jakob Froberger written in memory of his friend who died in his arms. This sensitive, polyphonic lament infuses a profound sensibility in Min's performance, spontaneous and immediate. Min concludes the harpsichord set with Rameau's Gavotte avec 6 Doubles, a fanciful romp over the keyboards that is no longer contrapuntal in the strict sense of the style, but musical lines flowing with harmonic function in imaginative permutations. There is an air of seriousness in Min's demeanor, but underneath there is a spirit of play, mischievous and spirited.

Min departs briefly while the space is transformed from an intimate drawing room to a concert stage. Even so, during this transformation, in which the lid of the harpsichord is lowered, the room resonates with the residual material of three remarkable harpsichord works brought to life for a moment on this Saturday afternoon.

Now the concert grand takes center stage. Soyoung Min is greeted with warm applause as she enters and takes her place at the piano. She begins with Chopin Impromptus, Op. 29 in A-flat, Op. 36 in F-sharp, and Op.51 in G-flat, all major keys. The works take us through an arc of development for Chopin, all have an air of improvised impetuosity, lyrical fantasies with shifting moods and endless melodic imagination that lingers in the air, overlapping with a wondrous presence. Min plays all three in a seamless connection revealing a magical affinity of the works.

The Impromptus serve as the gateway to Chopin's epic Sonata No. 2 in B-Flat Minor, Op.35, an almost iconic work that forms the centerpiece of this afternoon's performance. Soyoung has a commanding presence in this work, a conviction that articulates each texture and shift in mood with resolute purpose and abandon, entering regions of repose and risking everything in a passionate plunge into the maelstrom of textures and emotions. This is a work that requires extraordinary strength and control while rushing to the precipice and holding back just in time to avoid calamity. At the same time the piece calls for a lyrical intrusion that alternates and lifts us to a new awareness. Soyoung understands this perfectly, and she crafts every note with such care and expressive power that we are swept along with her. This is an extraordinary performance, melding with the remoteness of this spring afternoon in which we are transported to a different time and place. The funeral march of the third movement is hypnotic, but also couched in a grandeur that we no longer understand or comprehend today. The sheer strength of touch and tone in the final iteration shakes us to the core.

Throughout the performance, Soyoung Min is captivated by the sound of the music. Her expression is fixed as though not to betray her emotions or give in to them, which is a luxury that we as listeners can afford. She is transported by the flow of a seamless moment to moment. Chopin's music is an emotional terrain that is challenging and poignant. Throughout his work is the ebb and flow of sexual energy that connects with the moment, and Soyoung builds on this forcefulness with vigorous intensity. One final word about the structure of the concert, it is organically conceived, moving the audience through various levels, beginning almost casually and building to the climax of the Chopin sonata, occurring almost precisely at the Golden Mean. The Sonata's climactic movement unfolds in the same ratio.

Soyoung bring us down gently with three Chopin Mazurkas that are playfully brilliant and the essence of Chopin's compositional achievemments. She concludes with Elliott Carter's, Caténaires, a pointilistic toccata-like piece that requires stamina from the performer and listener alike.


For an encore, Soyoung shares a new found love in Schubert which she celebrates with child-like wonder. Schubert's G-Flat Impromptu is liquidly eloquent, with moments of rapture connected by such lyrical lines that require exquisite shading and understanding. Soyoung Min ultimately enchants us with her persuasive love for this work, and as she remarked she could play this piece endlessly over and over, and we could also listen without end, for there is no repetition but continuous discovery.

Imagine sitting in this magical temporary concert hall on this Saturday afternoon that is dipping into evening. Imagine that the sounds still linger in the room, reluctant to leave. Imagine that for a moment you have been transformed by a deep musical experience that touches the essence of who and what we are as a species. Imagine that such moments are rare and are to be celebrated and treasured.

The Real Massacre of Valentine's Day

Long before I was born, Al Capone of the Chicago South Side Italian Gang slaughtered seven members of Bugs Moran's North Side Irish Gang on February 14, 1929, which became known as The St. Valentine's Day Massacre. This was truly a brutal act. Even though it does not involve murder, the personal toll of Valentine's Day has left its mark on me.

Every year since I was about six years old, I have had a knot of fear that starts to develop about a week before February 14th because I have come to associate it with rejection, rejection of gigantic proportions over years and years. Yes, I know this is just my imagination, but the knot in the pit of my stomach seems real enough, and on February 14th I usually feel like staying in bed with the covers up over my head.

It all started in preschool. On the night before Valentine's Day, we had to punch out pre-cut Valentines from a Valentine booklet of cards for our classmates. Even then we were targeting the ones we especially idolized. Everyone else was doing the same. On the morning of Valentine's day we would exchange our Valentines, but it was clear from our choices who we really wanted to be our Valentine. I never connected with any of my first loves. In fact, I would get messages that were the equivalent of "get lost" ...

The worst part of this was that this Valentine ritual was so ingrained as part of the school culture that there was no escape. Every year I dreaded making those Valentines, creating messages with hidden meanings, and putting names on envelopes. Of course as we got older, it became more sophisticated with chocolates, flowers, and fancy gifts, and the stakes were even higher. The distress and defeat was even greater. As we approached junior high school, I tried being sick on that day, but that was even worse as I became a pariah and was generally ostracized. I guess these defeats could be traced to bad timing and poor choices, but in general, Valentine's day came to be anticipated as supreme, unequivocal disappointment.

Even though now, it shouldn't matter, I still get that feeling and a general malaise sets in as I realize Valentine's day is approaching. I envy all those happy lovers and wish them well. Wish I could be them, but I have other triumphs and destinations, so I guess this once a year trauma is something I can endure. It is something like an old war wound that acts up whenever the weather is about to turn bad.

This year, I have an out that can lessen the pain. The Asian New Year begins on February 14th this year. I can tell myself it isn't Valentine's Day, it is the Year of the Tiger.

A Spiritual Awakening

Some of you that know me may have been aware that I have been in the midst of an identity and professional crisis in which I could not find my way through the maze of doubt and frustration.

Imagine that you have fallen asleep and in your sleep you succumb to a nightmare that is very real. You are struggling in the water, slipping down, gasping for air and flailing your arms. There is no rescue in sight and you writhe in futile contortions striving to survive, but with each passing moment you are losing the battle.

Your life flashes by in front of you, the lingering disappointments, the brief successes, the loves, all that you have tried to create remapping your journey one last time as you sink toward oblivion. The friends that made up your world seem to surround you, but you cannot reach them. They seem almost indifferent. All seems lost and irrelevant as you grapple with fistfuls of water slipping through your fingers just as you are dwindling and lingering with one final attempt to break free.

Then, suddenly and quite unexpectedly you feel someone touching you, reaching inside of you, rousing you. You awake to find that you were caught in a nightmare, sleeping on the pier and not in the water. The reality is that you were never in danger despite the appearances and the terrifying feelings you were undergoing in the midst of your drowning.

I awoke to a spiritual awareness that is deeper and sharper than ever before. I can never forget that I felt my soul touched by a deeply etched reality through someone with vision and clarity. It is Soul that sings, and I find myself singing.

In the midst of this Spiritual awareness, I exist in a new context of this journey. It is Spirit that sustains and inspires. Spirit is the substance that underlies everything. Spirit sustains a revived vision and purpose, inspiring me to recognize and add to the beauty that I am discovering from moment to moment.

The Emptiness of Anguish

There is nothing I can do about this inner pain that plagues me except to recognize that it at least reminds me that I am still alive. Not that being alive is necessarily so great, but then I have never known "not being alive."

I have a friend who defines each moment as "This is my life." This seems to persuade my friend that things are unfolding as they inevitably should, and is beyond control. I agree that any notion that we have control over the moments and events in our lives is pure illusion.

So I have tried using "This is my life, my destiny," but it doesn't work for me. There is such power in love and desire that we can be shredded in our encounters with disappointment. Love and friendship unrequited and unreturned still makes the world go round. It is the stuff that inspires great art (or so we are led to believe).

Today's generations have other ways of dealing with anguish, and may be less disabled by disappointment. I don't know. But somehow they seem more casual, less intense, and more able to cope when obstacles block all possible routes. Beethoven found a way to cope with his disappointment, to be resigned to admiring his distant beloved from afar. Or maybe he didn't. Maybe the pain was always there.

I think that somehow I must withdraw, but there seems to be no way to think beyond that. As I withdraw, the pain becomes more intense, but if I remain in the midst of it all, I almost collapse from the force of my emotion.

I try to find some mechanism to cope. I try to appreciate that which I admire. One thing about me that I understand: I have the capacity to deeply appreciate. I savor and enjoy all that I encounter. Time, moments, people, and events invade the core of my Being. I notice these things with a depth of awareness that can transform them and myself as I translate this response through inquiry and dialogic process.

I also understand that a negative force can undermine the positive vision that I have of those around me with the beguiling innuendo that they have become distracted and ineffective, or that I have burdened them by placing too much hope and confidence in their potential. I recognize these temptations as negative energy that seeks to destroy the good, the beautiful, and the true. Ultimately, it is self destruction.

But there is something that gnaws at my core... a fear of being alone. Being alone, "All One," was once my standard. Now I face some sense of emptiness and wish someone would or could answer me without reservation.

So this is a solitary act. I write this for myself. No one else really reads this.

C J at The Bitter End

On the last day of January, an historic event took place at The Bitter End: Korean songs were premiered for a New York Crowd. CJ Jeon, who has been in this country for about three months, premiered four of his songs in the Sunday night session, two in Korean and two in English. The two songs sung in Korean were "La La" and "Lie on My Bed". The two songs in English were "Street Man" and "In My Side."

CJ has a comfortable style, intimate and thoughtful, accompanying himself on the guitar. His voice is private, personal, with a wide range of nuances. Clearly the text is the controlling element, and he is faithful to each moment of the narrative or mood. The effect is that of spontaneity and immediacy. The Bitter End is not conducive to this quiet kind of musical reflection, but CJ was poised and in control. His vocal style connects with the text, and he shapes the phrase with slight shifts in timbre, not as a conscious gesture but in response to the text and the moment.

The fourth song "In My Side" reveals an extraordinary talent, a song that unfolds in a quiet envelop of contemplation, a simple melody, but definitely the substance of today, almost reminiscent at moments of ballads by Radio Head. I believe Koreans are instinctually poets, as their language possesses a beautiful ambiguity that connects with the world in strikingly original ways. CJ's lyrics are beautifully concrete and full of amiguity. He draws upon the images of nature, but they expand as they exist inside of his awareness, of his dreams. The image "breathe, through my tongue" cuts through the moment in anguish before relinquishing to the calm.

Here are the final verses of the lyrics, couched in a stark, but elegant melody delivered in a lyrical flow, with an underlying concern that touches our hearts.

I thought it`s up in the air, in the end
But I saw a light, light where it is
And I see the sun
I see the sky
I see the wind
In my world

I thought I throw everything in my side
But I didn`t get rid of my dream
It takes my way and
It takes my dreams
It takes my love
Breathe, through my tongue...
Breathe, through my tongue...
Words of calm.

(Copyright 2010 CJ Jeon All Rights Reserved)

Fiesta 2.0: More Adventures of the Trio

It was a bitter cold January evening when the trio came together to celebrate Fiesta 2.0 on the return of one of our members to this country. The wind was strong and the moon was full.

Our original plan was to go to the Palisadium Restaurant DaeWon as part of an ongoing playful project of making a movie, and the great food. I had been to Daewon several years ago, a magnificent Korean restaurant overlooking the Hudson. Spectacular! We had talked about this adventure for several weeks. When we called for reservations, we learned that it had closed about a year ago! Not to be dissuaded, we thought we would go to Wonju II restaurant in Edgewater, in a ferry sitting on the Hudson River with a glamorous view of New York City. A review had described this Korean Restaurant as a good experience and the tables might sway a little, not from too much Soju, but from the ferryboat swaying gently with the river currents. This seemed the perfect answer to our dashed hopes of Daewon, even more romantic and a perfect place for our Fiesta. We call it Fiesta 2.0 because we had our first Fiesta more than a month ago when a different member returned from being out of the continental United States. After we had agreed upon this new destination, one in our trio learned from a Korean Cab driver that Wonju II had been out of business for a couple of years. This was beginning to seem like a conspiracy. Two prime Korean restaurants with outstanding food, locations and views were no longer in business!

Since our trio consists of aficionados who relish good Korean food, we are always on the lookout for Korean places that are excellent and unusual. Our criterion for the Fiesta is that we should try some place new. We felt there had to be something worthy of a Fiesta in New Jersey, so we decided to try Dong Bang Grill. What a great find! Located not far from the George Washington Bridge, this restaurant provides an elegant setting with etched glass panels and several dining rooms, along with a beautiful sushi bar. At first it was hard to appreciate the elegance we had stumbled upon, because there was no parking anywhere near the restaurant, and being from Texas, I have trouble with the concept of valet parking. Finally my friends persuaded me that this was the only alternative, but we were still faced with fierce winter gusts that cut to the bone as we left the car and headed for the entrance.

Every table is well appointed and arranged to create an open friendly atmosphere. There are windows that look to the East, including the bridge and upper NYC. After gaining entrance, we went up the stairs and were immediately ushered to a beautiful table near the wall with etched glass panels.

We were ready for a special feast, and the ambiance of the space welcomed us. With the barbecue grill in front of us, we were soon warming up to the prospects of the evening. My companions are much more knowledgeable than I about the nature of the menu, and soon they were conspiring to orchestrate the evening with an array of foods calculated to create an unforgettable sequence.

The first barbecue we had which was not marinated was SAENG GALBI: No frills just all natural 100% Black Angus beef short ribs, followed by DongBang GALBI : Beef short ribs in DB's own authentic marinade. Our soup was SAENGTAE JIGAE, a fresh pollack fish casserole with vegetables. The side dishes were like mini-feasts, plentiful and little taste excursions in their own right.

Perhaps the crowning moment for me was the discovery of OB, the premiere Korean beer. In general I have not been a beer drinker as my father prejudiced me against wanting to taste it by saying to me when I was very young that beer tasted awful, and as far as he was concerned "they could have left it in the horse."

OB had such a compelling taste that I could have stayed all night and drunk myself under the table, but fortunately I had friends who were more sensible. We drank a toast to Fiesta 2.0, to the new year and to the realization of our great and future dreams.

Looking across our neighboring tables we saw CHA DOL BAEGI, thin sliced sirloin steak with no marinade. Since I have never tried it, my friends decided we should conclude our meal with this third and final main course, which was a good decision since good things usually come in threes. We were not disappointed, but I discovered that we had to eat the steak as soon as it left the fire so it would not dry out.

We wanted to go somewhere for dessert and thought there would have to be some great places in Fort Lee, but our waitress knew of none and suggested we drive along main street. We did, and I can tell you that there is nothing grimmer than Main Street in Fort Lee after 10 p.m.

Instead, we went to a wonderful dessert place in Palisades Park, Fruit Gelatoria on Broad Avenue. It appears to be one of the few places in New Jersey that remains open until midnight. One of the attractive features of this Gelateria is that they make their own gelato and yogurt. The selection was extensive and delicious. I tried the mango gelato and my friends had yogurt. The yogurt was the best I have tasted, worth a drive to Palisades Park anytime. Even Fiestas have to come to a close, and although we teased each other about going to the city, I think we were willing to call it a Fiesta.

Outside, the winter evening had crept toward midnight, and the wind was still blowing, but a little less insistent. Inside, we were closing the Gelatoria, as we were the only remaining customers, and they had started to stack the chairs and sweep the floors.

Walking out into the night, I was struck by the silence of the brittle winter air; our celebration seemed punctuated by the full moon so luminous above us.