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ANTILEGO
photoseries
Mexico-Germany, 2014
Magazine
Ixiptla, Spring 2015, Vol 3, ISBN
978-3-94-3514-35-3, Berlin, Germany
Magazine
Ixiptla, Spring 2014, Vol 1, ISBN
978-3-94-3514-25-4, Berlin, Germany

 
In Cuernavaca, while
making a photographic inventory of a family
collection of pre-Hispanic terracotta
fragments, I arranged the parts heads
looking at me, torsos breathing, limbs
reaching nowhere the way you instinctively
would: into bodies. While editing the
photographs, I realized I had accidentally
made a historical portrait of conquered
Mexico I was in front of an Antilego,
charged bodies assembled from pieces never
designed to coincide.
Orlando Patterson, in
Slavery and Social Death, names the
deliberate mixing of enslaved peoples from
different cultures and languages stripping
kinship, memory, and communication as the
foundational tool of domination. Guillermo
Bonfil Batalla's Mιxico Profundo
applies the same logic to indigenous Mexico:
a civilization systematically fragmented and
rendered invisible by the colonial project,
not destroyed but refused coherence.
The
fragments in the photographs are not ruins
they are Mιxico profundo in
material form, survivors of that social
death, still holding their particularity at
the threshold between erasure and
persistence. The operation has not ended.
This photo series became the origin of
Antilegos: three chamber pieces
assembled from incompatible materials,
performed as interludes between other works
in the program. Broken, but self-contained.
ANTILEGOS
Three Chamber pieces
Germany, 2015
1: Detuned, 4-line staff Keyboard and 2-channel video
2:Detuned, 4-line staff Oboe, violin and 2-channel video
3: Detuned, 4-line staff Clarinet, Viola and 2-channel video
2016 Austrian Premiere,
in DISKRETE MASCHINEN, Klangspuren Schwaz,
Tiroler Festival fόr Neue
Musik, Treibhaus Turm, Austria.
2016,
in ANTILEGOS, Kesselhaus, Kulturbrauerei,
Berlin
2015: World Premiere,
Strawinsky Saal, Donaueschinger Musiktage,
Germany
Commission: Ensemble Mosaik
Antilegos 1:
The performer's keyboard
is split: the left hand draws from viola
sounds, the right from electronics two
timbral worlds that don't resolve into a
single instrument. The 4-lines staff along
with for levels of detuning, gives the
performance a wide pitch bandwidth. On the two screens behind
him, the same performer appears mirrored,
reading at speed from a teleprompter
fragments of Carl E. Seashore's In
Search of Beauty in Music, a
psychologist's attempt to measure and
systematize beauty, alternating with
invented phonetic sequences AU-Au-Taka-neka
iuuu rhythmic but meaningless, read with
the same conviction as the Seashore's text.
Occasionally he turns his head to listen to
his other self. The live playing is simple,
almost childlike. The video is an irritating magpai.

Antilegos 1, as premiered in Donaueschingen
Antilegos 2: Two
performers play in unison
simple notes, lento, detuned tones, no extended techniques, no
argument, almost whispering in
the same breath. Just at the end
they go a bit wild: no reed, and
pizzicati. On the left screen
behind, a
time-lapse: the violin performer
moves through a room with an
action camera pointing at his
face from a helmet, the frame
lurching with every improvised
gesture. On the right screen,
the oboe at home, following a
metronome every click, he must
play a single note, then
immediately return to organizing
the plates and glasses in his
kitchen.

Antilegos 2, as premiered in Donaueschingen
Antilegos 3:
The live performers wear white
bathrobes domestic, private,
unguarded playing something so
gentle, the beginning of
something non discursive. On
the two screens, filmed
separately on different dates
with a custom two-camera dolly,
the same performers move through
fast improvised music read from
a moving teleprompter, the score
alternating between written
unison passages and the single
instruction poco a poco Free,
to poco a poco read notes.
What appears on screen as
simultaneity was never
simultaneous. Extreme
hyperactivity on screen, extreme
calm and intimacy on stage.

Antilegos 2, promo video. A the middle, the
tablet teleprompter
I was
offering the audience
incoherence, discontinuity,
detuning, and the uncomfortable
privacy of the domestic
parasitizing a mainstream
contemporary music concert from
the inside. Contemporary concert
music tends to be over-rational,
formally impeccable, and
riskless. Classical musicians
are trained to disappear behind
the score: they don't create,
they execute. I wanted to show
them as normal people someone
who organizes his kitchen,
someone who wears a bathrobe,
someone who reads nonsense with
the same conviction he reads
Seashore. But the critique
doesn't stop at the concert
hall. In daily life, people are
equally automated. The pieces
live right at that threshold.
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