music

Subterms

    More stories

    • 125 Shares138 Views

      in Music

      Yasunao Tone Dead: Experimental Composer and Fluxus Artist Was 90

      by

      A Japanese-born multimedia artist whose associates included John Cage and Yoko Ono, he pushed digital music past its breaking point.Yasunao Tone, an experimental composer and multimedia artist associated with the Fluxus movement who used manipulations of digital technology to turn digital technology against itself, including a 48-minute exercise in aural endurance made up of squawks and bleeps from a mangled compact disc, died on May 12 in Manhattan. He was 90.His death, in a hospital, was confirmed by Artists Space, a New York contemporary art nonprofit that presented a retrospective of his career in 2023.Before moving to New York City in the early 1970s, Mr. Tone, a native of Tokyo, was a founding member of Group Ongaku, a groundbreaking free-improvisation ensemble, and of Team Random, an early computer art collective.He became an influential figure in the Japanese wing of Fluxus, the loose-knit avant-garde movement that began in the early 1960s, whose members included John Cage, the experimental composer; Nam June Paik, the video art pioneer; and Yoko Ono, the conceptual artist. All of those artists influenced his work.Mr. Tone, left, performing in 1976 with Suzanne Fletcher.via the Estate of Yasunao ToneWhatever the medium, the guiding principle of Fluxus was to “promote a revolutionary flood and tide in art, promote living art, anti-art,” as its founder, the artist George Maciunas, once put it.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

    • 113 Shares148 Views

      in Music

      South by Southwest London Has Its Own Musical Touch

      by

      The festival, which has a long association with music, presents an opportunity for London acts to perform on a bigger stage.When South by Southwest first began in Austin, Texas, in 1987, the Shoreditch neighborhood in East London was still filled with empty warehouses. But it was beginning to attract a wave of artists who would help it eventually become synonymous with music and culture.Almost 40 years later, this area will be the site of South by Southwest London, the organization’s first foray into Europe. And for some of the London-born musicians who are performing, it’s a huge opportunity that also reflects the area’s reputation and artistic cachet.“It’s super exciting that it’s now finally arriving on home soil,” said Joel Bailey, an R&B and soul artist from Southwest London whose stage name is BAELY. He continued: “London’s got so many different hubs of, kind of like pockets of creative spaces and Shoreditch is definitely one of them. It’s thriving.”Jojo Orme, who performs as Heartworms, was born in London and said she briefly lived in Shoreditch. “They just have the fingers on the pulse there. It’s always beating,” she said, adding that “so many people love to travel to Shoreditch for a show because it’s always a good time.”Jojo Orme, who performs as Heartworms, said people flock to shows in vibrant Shoreditch, the festival’s home base. “They just have the fingers on the pulse there.”@kate.samsara.photographySouth by Southwest London, which begins on Monday and runs through June 7, will feature performances by more than 500 artists across about 30 venues as part of its music festival. It will also include a film and conference series, just like the flagship festival in Austin. An Asia-Pacific branch of the event started in Sydney in 2023.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

    • 138 Shares198 Views

      in Movies

      It’s Still South by Southwest, but This Time It’s in London

      by

      The music, tech and film festival, long known for being in Austin, Texas, expands to Europe for the first time.The artist known as Beeple set a record in 2021 when a work of his — a collage of 5,000 images that existed only as a digital file — sold for $69.3 million in a Christie’s auction.Beeple, whose real name is Mike Winkelmann, is one of the artists participating in the inaugural edition of South by Southwest London, the music, film and tech festival. This time, he is presenting “The Tree of Knowledge,” a critique of the human addiction to smartphones.“People don’t fully recognize how much their phone is stressing them out,” and how much they’re “dialing up the noise,” Beeple said in a phone interview. “They could make the choice to dial down the noise, and just put their phone down, and exist in a much more calm state in which technology still exists.”The work is a refrigerator-size box containing a giant tree (recreated via projection mapping), with screens on all sides, and a large dial. When viewers turn the dial, the box is covered with live news, stock prices and data, illustrating the information overload faced by humanity.“The Tree of Knowledge” by Beeple (Mike Winklemann) is designed to address humans’ addiction to smart phones. It features four video screens arranged in rectangular pillars with imagery generated from a variety of real-time data.Tree of Knowledge/Beeple Studios The owner of the Tree of Knowledge can control the work further by pressing a “choose violence” button, which initiates a violent state for several minutes before destroying the tree. The tree regenerates when the violence ends.Beeple Studios“The Tree of Knowledge” encapsulates the spirit of South by Southwest London, which begins on Monday and runs through June 7. The event will feature a diverse group of speakers, including the ABBA singer-songwriter Bjorn Ulvaeus, the actor Idris Elba, the wellness and meditation expert Deepak Chopra, the primatologist Jane Goodall and the comedian Katherine Ryan. There will also be voices from the technology world, including Demis Hassabis, co-founder of Google’s DeepMind lab and co-winner of the Nobel Prize in Chemistry; and Alex Kendall, the chief executive of Wayve, a developer of artificial intelligence systems for self-driving cars.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

    • 138 Shares119 Views

      in Music

      As ‘Pretty Little Baby’ Goes Viral, Connie Francis Is Joining TikTok

      by

      With a forgotten song becoming an unlikely hit, the 87-year-old singer is happy to be back in the spotlight.Sixty-four years ago, Connie Francis recorded “Pretty Little Baby” as one of dozens of songs in a marathon recording session that yielded three albums within two weeks. It did not, at the time, feel like a song that had the makings of a hit, so it landed on the B-side of the 1962 single “I’m Gonna Be Warm This Winter” that was released in Britain. Since then, it was more or less overlooked.Then came TikTok and its canny ability to resurrect decades-old songs for a new generation.Over the last few weeks, “Pretty Little Baby” has been trending on the social media app — it has been featured as the sound in more than 600,000 TikTok posts and soared to top spots in Spotify’s Viral 50 global and U.S. lists — bolstered by celebrities and influencers, like Nara Smith, Kylie Jenner, and Kim Kardashian and her daughter North, who have posted videos of themselves lip-syncing to it.The ABBA singer Agnetha Fältskog used the song for a clip on TikTok in which she said Ms. Francis had long been her favorite singer. And the Broadway actress Gracie Lawrence, who is currently playing Ms. Francis in “Just in Time” — a play about Bobby Darin, Ms. Francis’s onetime romantic partner — also posted a video of herself lip-syncing to it, in her 1960s costume and hair.The song’s current popularity is an unexpected twist to Ms. Francis’s long and illustrious career. In 1960, she became the first female singer to top the Billboard Hot 100 and, by the time she was 26 years old, she had sold 42 million records and had two more singles top the Billboard charts. But this particular song, which she recorded in seven different languages, remained so obscure that Ms. Francis, 87, told People magazine that she had forgotten ever recording it.Amid the frenzy of the unexpected attention, Ms. Francis is trying to figure out how to turn this sudden attention into opportunities for herself. She and her publicist, Ron Roberts, enlisted Mr. Roberts’s son to help them set up a TikTok account for her and, in a phone interview on Thursday, she said she had been mulling the idea of emerging from retirement to do some kind of show in the next few months.This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

    • 150 Shares189 Views

      in Music

      Ute Lemper Still Sings Songs of Rebellion. The Stakes Are Still High.

      by

      The German-born cabaret performer’s latest album celebrates the 125th anniversary of Kurt Weill’s birth, yoking classics to the language of today’s music.“Welcome to Weimar — to the year 2025,” Ute Lemper announced.The German-born singer and actress was greeting friends and colleagues who had squeezed into the Birdsong Society’s small headquarters by Gramercy Park to hear her perform songs from her latest album, which celebrates Kurt Weill, a composer Lemper has championed for four decades.Sliding into the album’s title number, “Pirate Jenny,” Lemper got even closer to a listener who had been standing just a few feet away, fixing him with a snarling grin. Featured in “The Threepenny Opera,” the most celebrated of Weill’s noted collaborations with the playwright Bertolt Brecht, the tune has been covered by artists from Nina Simone to Judy Collins. It’s also the only standard written from the perspective of a hotel maid waiting for a ship of pirates to arrive and, at her behest, murder all the guests.“It’s a song about revolution and rebellion,” Lemper explained in an interview before the event. The singer is less intimidating in conversation than she is when channeling bloodlust. She’ll turn 62 in July, and with her long, lean frame and impossibly high cheekbones, she still projects the cool beauty of a runway model.Lemper was perceived as something of a rebel herself, at least in her native country, when Decca Records released “Ute Lemper Sings Kurt Weill” in 1988. The album, which evolved from “a little fringe record I made in Berlin” a couple of years earlier, earned Lemper an international fan base — with one notable exception.“The Germans hated it,” Lemper recalled. “They weren’t interested in speaking about the past.” Decca’s chief executive at the time, Roland Kommerell, German himself, had started a project dedicated to bringing back music that had been banned under the Nazis, including classical symphonies and Weimar-era cabaret songs — music composed by Jews who were persecuted or, like Weill, forced into exile.“It was a huge chapter to rip open; it was still bleeding at the time,” Lemper said. “And suddenly, I was in the position to have to respond to hundreds of journalists about this music. I became almost the representative of my generation, the Cold War generation, in Germany.”We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

    • 125 Shares159 Views

      in Music

      Karol G’s Ode to Curves, Plus 7 More New Songs

      by

      Hear tracks by Alejandro Sanz and Shakira, St. Vincent, Stereolab and others.Every Friday, pop critics for The New York Times weigh in on the week’s most notable new tracks. Listen to the Playlist on Spotify here (or find our profile: nytimes) and at Apple Music here, and sign up for The Amplifier, a twice-weekly guide to new and old songs.Karol G: ‘Latina Foreva’The Colombian singer and rapper Karol G cheerfully fends off some unwanted male attention by praising Latin women instead: “Those curves don’t even exist in NASCAR.” The inventive pop-reggaeton production stays light and changeable, with little keyboard blips and string lines making sure the familiar beat is always laced with bits of melody.Alejandro Sanz featuring Shakira: ‘Bésame’Husky meets breathy in “Bésame” (“Kiss Me”), the new duet by Alejandro Sanz, from Spain, and Shakira, from Colombia: a 20-years-later reconnection after their 2005 megahit “La Tortura.” They trade endearments over a track that connects Latin pop to Nigerian Afrobeats — and, in the bridge, tosses in some flamenco handclaps for more trans-Atlantic fusion.Guedra Guedra: ‘Drift of Drummer’Abdellah M. Hassak, the Moroccan electronic producer, records as Guedra Guedra. Guedra is a Tuareg dance that shares its name with a cook pot that becomes a drum when covered with an animal skin. “Drift of Drummer” mixes field recordings that Hassak gathered in his travels across Africa with hand drum machines and synthesizers. Juggling ever-changing layers of percussion over a brisk implied pulse and a terse bass line, the song is a cauldron of rhythms, humanized by snippets of speaking voices.St. Vincent featuring Mon Laferte: ‘Tiempos Violentos’St. Vincent is joined by another high-drama songwriter and singer, Mon Laferte, for a third iteration of “Violent Times,” which appeared on her 2024 album “All Born Screaming” and its Spanish-language version, “Todos Nacen Gritando.” The ominous horns, looming drumbeats and James Bond-theme chords of the original track remain. Where Laferte takes over certain lines, she brings her own sharp-clawed sweetness.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

    • 113 Shares99 Views

      in Movies

      Jeff Goldblum Says Jeff Goldblum Is ‘Not a Performance’

      by

      Listen to and Follow PopcastApple Podcasts | Spotify | Amazon Music | YouTubeAt 72, Jeff Goldblum has not lost a step. He may, in fact, be picking up the pace.An unmistakable screen presence since the mid-1970s, when he stole scenes in “Death Wish,” “Nashville” and “Annie Hall,” Goldblum has recently hammed it up as the Wizard of Oz, in last year’s “Wicked” (and this year’s sequel), and Zeus himself, in Netflix’s “Kaos.”Beyond film and television — where he’s also popped up in recent years on “RuPaul’s Drag Race” and the millennial-skewering “Search Party” — Goldblum has become a fixture in the worlds of fashion (attending two consecutive Met Galas), music (having recently released “Still Blooming,” his fourth jazz album) and the internet variety show circuit (gamely eating hot wings and shopping for sneakers).To each role, fiction and non-, Goldblum brings a contagious enthusiasm and plenty of Jeff Goldblum, working his amiably offbeat public persona, born from defining roles in “The Big Chill,” “Jurassic Park” and “Independence Day,” into everything he does. To watch him move through the world is to witness that immutable movie-star magic incarnate as he kisses hands, asks questions and makes the days of strangers with solicitous eye contact and effusive approachability, seemingly without ever flagging. (Goldblum is also the father of two children under 10, who are being raised by Goldblum and his wife, Emilie, a former Olympic rhythmic gymnast, in Florence, Italy.)Jeff Goldblum at The New York Times’s office in Manhattan. “It’s not a performance, and I don’t feel like it’s inauthentic,” he said of his public persona. “I feel like my interest in people is real.”It can all seem exhausting — and that’s before learning that Goldblum found the time to personally sign thousands of copies of his new album, which features appearances by his “Wicked” co-stars Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande. Yet in a recent interview on Popcast, the actor and musician insisted that the perpetual Goldblum experience — influenced by his study of the Meisner technique — is not an act, but his lifeblood.“It’s not a performance, and I don’t feel like it’s inauthentic,” he said. “I feel like my interest in people is real and I’m thrilled to be here, when I have an opportunity to let that run free and express itself. That feels wholesome to me, and nourishing.”We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

    • 100 Shares159 Views

      in Music

      How the Cowbell Gave Latin Music Its Swing

      by

      When life gets loud, let the rhythm get louder.Ran-kan-kan: Long before I could name the source of my excitement, my body responded to the strident signature of Latin dance music. The cowbell strikes like a drum but rings like a horn, the high pitch piercing through salsa’s dense thicket of overlapping patterns. Just when I feel myself drifting from the dance-floor herd, the cowbell summons me back to the rhythm’s raw nerve. Musicians call this function el amarre, from the Spanish amarrar — to fasten, to moor, to seal the deal. A paradox, maybe, that the instrument that brings all the others in line should incite the most euphoric feelings of freedom. I’m already sweating through my silk, so why resist the cowbell’s erotic revelation? When the fever reaches a certain pitch, complexity must give way to relentless repetition — one just-right note, catechized precisely like a prayer. Eso es. Just like that.Prayer, I learned recently, might be the right metaphor: The cowbell we know today is a direct descendant of instruments that spread through West Africa with the early iron-making technology of the Bantu migrations, and that continue to structure the diaspora’s ritual music, from the double-mouthed agogô of Yoruba bembé ceremonies to the triangular ekón of the secret brotherhood known as Abakuá. Like a god, the bell lays down our shared timeline. The sharp attack puts you in your place — enter here, act now — amid the din of drums and dancers. The job of the bell, I’ve been told, is to stay steady.Maybe that’s how these timelines survived the apocalyptic chaos of the Middle Passage. When diverse captives converged on the Caribbean, they sought out substitutes for the instruments they no longer had the freedom to craft. In Puerto Rico, they fashioned bomba drums from rum barrels; in Cuba, they turned the humble wooden crate, used to pack salt cod, into the cajón, whose special resonance later found a place in Spanish flamenco. Soon enough, free people of color gained access to forges for smithing bells from scratch, so I sometimes wonder if it was not only necessity but sheer virtuosity that compelled musicians to play most anything: hoe blades, machetes, paint cans and, yes, ranchland cowbells, struck with the handles of decapitated hammers.In New York City, the improvisations continued: Fania’s Johnny Pacheco stalked the carts in Central Park to steal the copper cowbells hanging from the horses’ necks. Eddie Palmieri, salsa’s founding father, told me how the drummer Manny Oquendo would take his cracked cowbell to a body shop for repair: “What is it with the cowbell?” the welder, used to mending fenders, finally asked. “Well,” Oquendo grunted, “that’s what gives the swing to the band.” By the 1950s, Latin music had become big business, so it’s no surprise the cowbell was perfected and mass-produced right here in the Bronx, by a Puerto Rican auto mechanic named Calixto Rivera: first in his apartment, then, after noise complaints, in a workshop behind Yankee Stadium. If you don’t make the cowbell by hand, Rivera once told The Times, “it doesn’t go coo-coo — it goes blegh-blegh.”We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More