Erika Dagnino è artista a tutto tondo,
poeta, scrittrice, performer, intellettuale
sì ma con un pensiero agitato anzitutto
dall’istinto, dall’impeto del fare e del crederci
nel farlo. Così si fondono alla musica
improvvisata i suoi versi che, sullo stesso
impulso, emozionano. La sua arte le ruga
la pelle perché è sulla pelle che la vive, da
quando decide di trasferirsi a New York per
confluire nella spontaneità artistica che ne
abita la scena, sfuggendo all’artificiosità
di quella italiana. E che, comunque, accanto
all’inglese, usi i suoni dell’idioma
natio la dice lunga in fatto di decisione e
coraggio: il tono, quasi sempre pacato, è
lo stesso nelle due lingue e riesce a far
breccia nel pubblico americano con l’aspra
dolcezza dell’italiano ed in quello italiano
con le dentali aspirazioni anglofone. Poca
musica, tanta musicalità e soprattutto
ritmo: e neppure canta. Per artisti simili i
riferimenti sono la beat generation, Allen
Ginsberg, jazz poetry, Amiri Baraka. Ma
Erika Dagnino va oltre, non resta ai precedenti,
porta in scena Erika Dagnino, la sua
forza, una disarmante genuinità mai naïve.
L’album si apre con l’intenso Preludio di
Filiano e Takeishi, compagni perfetti che
non si limitano ad accompagnare ma interpretano
i suoni emanati dalla voce nuda
che punta all’efficacia più che all’effetto.
Non serve soffermarsi sul significato dei
testi: impressionistico caleidoscopio di immagini
evocate dalle parole, si adagia su
di esse, e queste sulle note e le figurazioni ritmiche create dai
musicisti. Singolare la scelta dell’artista per un recitato senza
quasi enfasi: ma la sua voce risuona, apre orizzonti, suggestiona,
entra dentro flemmatica e fragile, lenta e decisa. Se Intermezzo
vede protagonisti unici ancora Filiano e Takeishi, nei singoli movimenti
il senso poetico si trasforma, varia alla diversa musicalità
della lingua — prima l’italiano e solo poi l’inglese —, sul suo respiro,
in una fusione di linee, di suoni, di vibrazioni: quella musicale
e quella parlata. E a ben sentire (non solo con l’udito), in
Quinto Movimento si può avvertire quanto la voce della Dagnino
sia pure musica, proprio quando è impegnata soltanto a "declamare"
numeri sparsi sopra archetto e rullante: e diventa il pezzo
più intenso dell’intero disco. Movimento Finale parte da polifoniche
percussioni, cui si accavalla il contrabbasso esteso — picchettato,
archettato, arpeggiato —, fino all’innesto della voce
che scatena un fitto inseguimento incalzato dal suo incedere trascinante.
Di norma non ci occupiamo di lavori cui il titolare non
sia musicista, per quanto la musica resti comprimaria. Ma Erika
Dagnino merita l’eccezione. Non solo come intellettuale — la poesia
atto creativo il cui trasporto si trasmette a chi ne fruisce — ma
ancor più come artista, che usa voce e parole e musica per esprimere
e suscitare sensazioni. Non per forza occorrerà procurarsi il
disco — anche se è facile intuire che lei preferirebbe — ma se vi
capitasse di sapere di una sua performance, fiondatevi e vedrete
se non farà vibrare spirito ed epidermide._An.Te
Sembra quasi di essere tornati ai tempi di Jack Kerouac e Steve
Allen al Village Vanguard di New York. Versi declamati con sottofondo,
o meglio, integrazione musicale. La cosiddetta jazz
poetry. Questo propone la poetessa italiana, ormai una habituée
della Grande Mela, Erika Dagnino, supportata dal suo trio, completato
dal contrabbassista americano
Ken Filiano e dal percussionista nipponico
Satoshi Takeishi. Un’esperienza decisamente
particolare, insolita, specie per il
nostro Paese, e per ciò, forse, ancora più
affascinante non appena si ha la possibilità
di parteciparvi, direttamente o indirettamente,
come in questo caso.
Preludio apre la seduta di musica e poesia,
introducendo lo spettatore/ascoltatore
alla performance, in maniera libera
ed ancestrale, con un frastagliato e scoppiettante
tappeto di percussioni e la voce
cavernosa e incidente del contrabbasso
di Filiano, cui fa da contrasto, o meglio,
da contrappunto quella riflessiva e cadenzata
della Dagnino, che dal Primo al
Quarto Movimento di questo Cd — e in
qualche modo, pure nel Quinto Movimento,
anche se il testo è costituito da
numeri — declama i suoi versi ermetici,
in italiano e in inglese, con particolare
attenzione per l’andamento ritmico e sonoro
delle parole, in entrambe le lingue,
e in comunione con le linee tracciate e
scavate dai due partner. C’è un grande
slancio creativo sia nel recitato della titolare
sia nel supporto musicale dei suoi
compagni d’avventura, i quali puntano a
rispondere, colpo su colpo, verso su
verso, e ad integrare così la sua intensa
narrazione poetica, usando variegate,
smerlate, tambureggianti percussioni,
nonché un contrabbasso suonato, strusciato,
striato con l’archetto, o armonicamente pizzicato. Un
progetto evocativo, con parole e frasi musicali in libertà, ricostituenti
al loro interno e nella loro interezza un significato intrinseco,
non dato solamente dalla loro somma quanto dal loro
simultaneo moltiplicarsi. Ognuno racconta una storia, tesse una
parte della tela: tutte queste storie si intrecciano, si rincorrono,
si amalgamano. Ogni filo del discorso, poetico e musicale, si
lega ad un altro, fino a comporre un variopinto insieme di significati
e di spunti suggestivi che rimandano ad altri, affini o
meno. È musica cangiante e gorgogliante, anche quando viene
"privata" della voce, su Intermezzo per esempio, dove il contrabbasso
di Filiano incrocia e fa stridere le sue linee con le percussioni
arrembanti e seghettate di Takeishi, oppure su
Movimento Finale, squassato da ondate percussivo-rumoristiche
e da sottili ma ficcanti interventi di basso: qui, i due strumentisti
orchestrano e danno vita ad un dialogo a due, serrato e
coeso, intrigante e multisfaccettato, che non fa rimpiangere,
anzi amplifica, le triangolazioni testual-musicali con la Dagnino,
tanto che a metà brano, pure lei si inserisce con una sua poesia,
completando il trio con un’altra bella, sofisticata commistione
di jazz poetry._Ma.Ma.
A. Terzo, M. Maimeri, Black&White - jazzColours Luglio 2015(Anno VIII, n. 7), Italy
file:///C:/Users/me/Downloads/Pagine%20da%201507LugN0807_PDF%20(1).pdf
GOOGLE TRANSLATE:
Erika Dagnino is complete artist,
poet, writer, performer, intellectual
yes but with a rough first thought
by instinct, by the force of doing and believing
in doing so. So blend the music
He improvised his verses that, on the same
impulse, excite. His art is the wrinkle
because the skin is the skin that lives, from
when he decided to move to New York to
flow into the artistic spontaneity that
inhabits the scene, escaping artificiality
of the Italian. And that, in any case, next
English, uses the sounds of speech
native speaks volumes in terms of decision and
courage: the tone, almost always calm, is
the same in both languages and can be
inroads into the American public with the rough
sweetness of Italian and the Italian
with English-speaking dental aspirations. Little
music, lots of musicality and above
rhythm and even sings. For artists like the
References are the beat generation, Allen
Ginsberg, jazz poetry, Amiri Baraka. But
Erika Dagnino goes well, you just previous to,
brings to the stage Erika Dagnino, its
force, a disarming naturalness never naïve.
The album opens with the intense Prelude
Filiano and Takeishi, perfect companions that
but are not limited to accompany interpret
the sounds emanating from the naked voice
pointing to the effectiveness rather than the effect.
No need to dwell on the meaning of
texts: impressionistic kaleidoscope of images
evoked by words, is on
of them, and on these notes and rhythmic figures created by
musicians. Unusual choice for an artist played without
most emphatically, but her voice resonates, opens horizons, impresses,
gets inside phlegmatic and fragile, slow and determined. If Intermezzo
starring unique yet Filiano and Takeishi, in the individual movements
the poetic sense is transformed, it varies at different musicality
language - the first and only Italian then English - on his breath,
in a fusion of lines, sounds, vibrations: the musical
and the spoken. And to feel well (not only with the hearing), in
Fifth Movement can be felt as the voice of Dagnino
even music, just as it is committed only to "recite"
numbers scattered over bow and snare: and become the piece
the most intense of the entire disk. Movement Finale part from polyphonic
percussion, which overlaps the extended bass - staked,
archettato, arpeggiated -, to the junction of the voice
that triggers an intense chase spurred by his gait dragging.
Normally we do not mind the work which the holder does not
is a musician, as the music remains comprimaria. But Erika
Dagnino worth the exception. Not only as an intellectual - poetry
creative act whose transport is transmitted to those who benefit - but
even more as an artist, he uses voice and words and music to express
and arouse feelings. Not necessarily need procure
disk - although it is easy to see that she would prefer - but if you
He happens to know of his performance, and you will see fiondatevi
if not will thrill and spirit epidermide._An.Te
It almost seems to be back in the days of Jack Kerouac and Steve
Allen at the Village Vanguard in New York. Verses declaimed with background,
or better, musical integration. The so-called jazz
poetry. This offers the Italian poet, now a habituée
the Big Apple, Erika Dagnino, supported by his trio, completed
bassist American
Ken Filiano and percussionist Japanese
Satoshi Takeishi. Experience definitely
special, unusual, especially for the
our country, and so, perhaps, even more
fascinating when you get a chance
to participate, directly or indirectly,
as in this case.
Prelude opens the session of music and poetry,
introducing the viewer / listener
performance, in a free
and ancestral, with a jagged and crackling
carpet of percussion and voice
cavernous and accident bass
of Filiano, which is contrasting, or better,
counterpoint and rhythmic reflexive
of Dagnino, who from the first
Fourth Movement of this CD - and in
Somehow, even in the fifth movement,
even if the text is constituted by
numbers - declaims his verses hermetic
in Italian and English, with particular
attention to the rhythmic and sound
words, in both languages,
and in communion with the lines and
dug by the two partners. There is a great
creative impulse is recited in the holder
both in support of his music
fellow adventurers, who often want to
answer blow for blow, upwards
towards, and to integrate so its intense
poetic narration, using varied,
scalloped, drumming percussion,
as well as a bass played, rubbed,
streaked with a bow, or harmonically pinched. A
project evocative, with words and musical phrases in freedom, tonics
in them and in their entirety intrinsic meaning,
not only because of their sum as from their
simultaneously multiply. Each one tells a story, weaving a
part of the canvas: all these stories are intertwined, chasing each other,
amalgamate. Each train of thought, poetic and musical, is
alloy to another, up to compose a colorful set of meanings
and suggestive ideas to external, related or
less. Music is changing and bubbling, even when
"Private" of the voice, on Intermezzo for example, where the bass
Filiano crosses and makes screeching his lines with percussion
arrembanti and serrated Takeishi, or on
Movement Finale, shaken by waves of percussive's noise-
and thin but insightful interventions bottom: here, the two musicians
orchestrate and create a dialogue with two, and tightened
cohesive, intriguing and multifaceted, that does not regret,
indeed amplifies, triangulations integrated as-musical with Dagnino,
so much so that in mid-song, she also fits with one of his poems,
completing the trio with another beautiful, sophisticated commingling
Jazz poetry._Ma.Ma.
Words and sounds arrange themselves against any notion of centre. There is no centre here that dictates form and symmetry: this is about the core, something more dense and subtle, connected to beginning and indeed connected to care. And this core is shaped as a constellation: the concentrated act of making words and sound opens up to dissipation of making sound happen, in listening, yet all its elements are held together. No prescribing narrative or anecdotes: a repertoire of aural gestures prompts my hearing and allows it to err in and out of its permeable boundaries into words. "Sides" is not just rhythm, not just poetry, it has no canonical function or meaning, it makes new meanings as I hear its sounds take form.
sugar45 http://www.breakaplate.com/index.php/slam-productions/
Just 8 months after the recording of Signs, reviewed a year ago, the trio replaces the quartet and with only voice, double bass and percussion succeeds in producing an album, Sides, that is in no way diminished by the reduced input – if anything, it might even be considered more elegant, more motivated: more awe-inspiring. While Italian and English words are used to express the same ideas, so do the poetry and the music discuss the cultural implications of sounds upon words. There seems to be a sort of metamorphosis from the composite sounds into the new meanings of the contemplations directed towards the listener, or perhaps drawn by the listener from those deliberations.
This transmutation in turn reflects upon the notion that there may be a point to be made about musical emotion and analytical understanding – yes of course there is a difference, but is it important? Should we ignore one in favour of the other?
The words are paraded through the work with a physically powerful deliverance and ingenious cadence that lend them a seemingly incipient autonomy, taking them out of the world of ordinary meaning. This transformation is also applied almost in reverse in Track 5, where the poet recites a set of numbers as laid out in a 7x6 matrix in the booklet which accompanies the CD. This piece is reminiscent of the Number Poems of Neil Mills, written in 1969 and published in 1971 by the Arts Council of Great Britain as part of Experiments in Disintegrating Language (33 AC 1971 mono Side 1).
Neil Mills wrote in the sleeve-notes: "I believed that the meaning which emerged in the reading of poetry lay primarily in intonation and rhythm and only secondarily in semantic content, i.e. that what was important was how something was read, rather than what was said – the human voice functioning as musical instrument."
Mills also thought that "numbers provided a very limited range of spoken sound-values", but here Erika proves him wrong and it is the elegance with which she addresses the tool which is her voice that enables her unsettling annunciation.
Here is another exquisite album from the voice and pen of Erika Dagnino, the hallucinatory bass playing of Ken Filiano and clarity of expression brought by Satoshi Takeishi's Japanese percussion.
