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les barricades misteriouses: a 300 years old music piece from couperin. the tittle itself is a mistery, but i think it has to do with the underwear, obviously… the misterious barricades: the underwear… anyway this has nothing to do with what i wanted to talk about.
we live in a society that confuses ethic with esthetic. we make ethical decisions depending on how they make us look like; exactly the same as if we were choosing a scarf or a pant for going out. so, this is what i am going to do: i am going to be ethically naked, always. i such a way that you can see my ethic hanging in between my legs. “les baricades misteriouses”
today i ate 2 eggs. 4 years ago i went vegan. but the people living before me in this house leave 6 eggs behind… what should i have done?? [2+4+6=12] during some days i just left them there. inside the fridge. but they are going to get rotten, so i must face them. throw them away? that would be terrible. but i can’t eat them!! i am vegan! fuck vegan man, you have to face the eggs issue. you have to deal with this problem… with this 6 problems… sometimes, to be faithful to your own ethic, you have to do things which are against the written rules of the ethic club you belong to. was würde johann sebastian bach zu tun?
when i think about the TED performance…i failed. i knew this was the opportunity i was waiting for (i made it happen, nobody knocked at my door). if i would have done a 5 minutes shorter performance, and i would have played better, this would have impulsed me as a rocket. fucking hard job these last 3 years to set up ecce cello. fuck! 5 weeks creating a rehearsing this… i just couldn’t do it better, i suppose i needed a coach, someone to help from the outside. but i didn¡t react on time. my capacity reached it’s limit. but it’s ok, i mean, not even a dammed thing failed, all my technic was perfect! this is years of trial and error. finally i got to win machines! (many many times before i have been defeated over a stage in front of an audience) but it’s positive. having this video is positive, i am doing things right. i am limited. but i am in the good direction.
…i was so nervous at the beginning, hahhaha… i just couldn’t explain myself well. and i played like shit! but some day i will play properly this instrument of the hell. i swear.
this is my father when he was 19. the heading says “a clerk who dreamed to become a singer”, and yes! he did it! i must admit, even if i hated what he did with his career, he paved the way for me. i learned from him to go ahead, no matter what. from my mather (a self-made bussinesswoman) i learned to sell and to understand that there’s no product, but how you project your visions on others. to make them see what you see. thank mama. thanks papa.
oh! virulius, my most beloved friend in my childhood. for 13 years that cat and I slept together in the same bed, he used to lay down as a person, putting his head on the pillow. i loved you so much virulius, i miss you…
i am so pleased. thanks holger! thanks sophia! thanks victor! …i put so much in each concert. when the organizers puts also that much, i feel so grateful and joyful. that’s all i need. 5 days ago i played for a community in the countryside. today i played my last concert of this year in berlin. a very hard year in which i kept struggling for ecce cello, but i also thought to give up. it’s a very beautiful way to end up the year, with this feeling i have inside, that somehow it’s working. ecce cello is growing up, there’s so much of me in it. since 3 years it’s all. today i realize it doesn’t matter i don’t play the cello well enough. it doesn’t matter my compositions are obvious and their harmonic structure is… what matters is that all i am goes in that shot. that’s what matters. that’s what i have to care about. next year ecce cello has to wear pants. thanks berlin!! bis später!!
by nature, i am not a good person. it took me serious efforts and many many years of trial and error, to become a “good” person. now i think i am, but of course, it depends on my own judgment… but if i have the judgment of a bad person, then, how can i know what is “to be good”?
even bad people know what is good and what is right david, that is what makes them really bad ones.
i learned that the extremes touch themselves; hating profoundly, i learned to love. wanting to kill my self, i got in love with life. keeping everything to my self, i learned to share. being totally alone (and learning to be comfortable with it) i learned to be with the others. learning to speak, i learned to listen (hey man, this shit sounds like a church shit shit).
but deep down i am still bad. that’s how i was made. sometimes, when i let my guard down, or i am lazy, or by an accident or a provocation, the monster comes out. (a vegetarian monster of course, i only hurt persons, never animals).
tobias schmidt (1768) was a german harpsichord maker, well, he also build the first guillotine. as he had achieved high skills in the making of harpsichords, then he could apply this knowledge to the construction of the first guillotine. both instruments have a lot in common, one was intended to relief those sentenced to death, the other to relief those sentenced to life. also they both can be seen as two different ways of getting in contact with god.
charles-henri sanson was a french executioner, that was the family business, and he kept the tradition. his brother executed maria antonietta, and he himself executed king luis XVI. only buffoons and executioners had the rare privilege of killing kings as a job without being dismembered by horses in the public square. when he was asked if he could sleep after having executed almost 3.000 people during his career, he answered “if emperors, kings and dictators can sleep well, why should’t an executioner?”. when he was not at work, or repairing the tools he used for it (repair and replacement costs where prohibitive “an unfair burden” over his shoulders, he commented once), he was devoted, as it couldn’t be otherwise, to the other logical passion of an executioner: music. he played violin and cello. that’s where our two histories meet, he was a close-long-term-friend of tobias schmidt.
i can imagine both at the atelier of the latter, discussing about the convenience of changing small degrees the angle of the neck of the cello, to give more tension to the strings, and therefore increase the poor loudness of the instrument. changing from this subject to another related to the operation of this or that mechanism of the guillotine. “you know? sometimes my clients get in panic, they make very unpredictable movements during the procedures. i think more than perfectioning the blade, we should focus on the holding device of the neck. by the way, the material of my cello string tensors right on the neck, seems to suffer due to the increased tension, should you try a different wood kind?”.
the hidden passion of tobias schmidt was building the ultimate harpsichord-guillotine, an instrument mixing both, to the delight of kings. their majesties would capture the most talented harpsichord players, and would make them play for them “the last piece of your life”. letting as a last wish for the musician to choose what to play. the harpsichord would have a mechanism that would detect the dominant seventh chord of the second repetition of the piece, cutting the head of the performer just right before resolution of the cadence, being the sound of his head falling down the “final resolution chord on the tonic”.
[applauses of the king]
russian artist pyotr pavelnsky nails his balls in the red square of moscu protesting for the police state in rusia.
once upon a time you were big russia… your artists, your revolutions, your wars… what has become of all that?
ole tus huevos pyotr pavelnsky!! finally performance art is useful, not only a cool thing. it takes more than commitment and courage to make such an action (you wake up, then you say to yourself, “today i am going to nail my balls at the red square”. you drink the cafe, then you do it.) i really admire these people, like the voina collective. and i feel very lucky i don’t have to live in such a country…
i hate this idea of the cello as the sound of harmony and peace. why the hell do everybody put water in the video background of every cello piece?? are they thirsty? for me cello is war. so it came to me. so i took it. so it remains. i play cello as an act of self-defense. my cello is my semi-automatic rifle. being 18 i listened for the first time to the opening chords of the zoltan kodaly op.8 sonata for solo cello. that was not a caress, it let a scar on me that is getting uglier over the years. equilibrium is not the absence of conflict, but on the contrary, it’s the encounter of two opposing forces that alternate winning. stop the fight between these two forces, and the tightrope-walker will fall into the void. mine is not a peaceful cello.
…the worse is that the “giant”, thanks to this made for you advertisement, will be able to sell us, not only stuff we don’t want, but a hole life style. making us believe, we choose freely and willingly. aren’t they doing that already? scary.
it’s very curious, my talk at TEDxBerlin was about this matter exactly! and this guy is also from berlin… the truth is it’s very scary the amount of control the “giant” has over us. we are totally tracked! and what scares me more, it’s not that they know where i go or when, and that they can follow me… they don’t give a shit about me!! what really scares me, is how they can use that information in the future to create advertisement made for me, to sell to me shit i don’t need, shit with which concept i even deeply disagree with… but with all that info they have about me, the will fucking create the best fucking advertisement made just for me… and i will buy that shit. holy shit!!
i bought a cembalo to bring back that old joy in dark hours, it always helped me a lot when i was down… what i didn’t expected is that being totally up, as i am these last weeks, the cembalo would take control of my life, i would stop playing cello, i would stop going to work, and as today, i just wouldn’t eat, just to fall into it’s arms, and enjoy this sweet never-ending stockholm syndrome. hard drug is this sound.