Miguel Poveda (vocals); Moraito Chico, Juan Carlos Romero (guitar); Paquito González, Antonio Coronel (percussion); Bobby Soto, Carlos Grilo (palmas).
1 Buenas intenciones - Tangos 2 Tierra de calma - Farruca 3 Como la luna en el agua - Bulerías 4 Calle del mar - Malagueña 5 Y en medio el río - Sevillanas 6 Naúfragos del hambre - Soleá 7 Alfileres de colores - Bulerías 8 Detrás de la memoria - Seguirilla 9 La radio de mi madre 10 Canto de la resignación - Toná
thegoodone is the word to say to get to juice from the flaming oranges
Miguel Poveda’s new record, “Tierra de Calma”,(well not new now) has several powerful moments and one true jewel. The jewel is the “Toná de la Resignación” with music by Juan Carlos Romero, who composed all the entire record, and poetry by José Luis Ortiz Nuevo. A simple melody, inspired in the so-called tonás campesinas. It is a cante which situates itself on the other side of tragedy, in an intimate, reflexive, stoical terrain. A short melody with the feeling of melancholy and nostalgia.
Poveda is in top form with elegrant phrasing, strength and a solid base. He’s brilliant without overwhelming because everything flows naturally. Other noteworthy moments: the tangos “Buenas Intenciones”. Fresh, natural, healthful, energetic with a sassy bit in major key and a nod to the Triana of Betis and el Titi. Also the bulería “Alfileres de Colores”, a bullfight poem from texts of Pedro Rivera and music by Diego Carrasco who sings it with Poveda. Jokes and fun, serious business. Having a ball within the rhythm of twelve beats. Poveda’s light and Carrasco’s pure need. A verse of Quintero/León/Quiroga, the sentimental journey of a forgetful country. With a free-form guitar introduction full of color. more
One of moast beautifull cover designs and photography I have seen.
At this point-1971- Duke Ellington was jazz's oldest survivor
but he himself didn't feel like it
-still insisting his best numbers were "the ones coming up tomorrow".
Well here tomorrow arrived and
the influence of African and Oriental styles and rhythms are integrated into
this eight-part suite-Duke's shinning moment!
The opening "Chinoserie" is perhapes best of all-an extended piece
that blends Ellington's usual big-band swing approch with a very carnavalesqe
avante-garde rhythm similar to "The Creator has A Master Plan"."
Didjidoo",based on Duke's experience with the
native Aboriginal people of Austrailia is (in retrospect) quite
funky with it's use of polyrhythms and scaling horns.Most delightful though
is "Acht O' Clock Rock"-basically a simple 3-chord extension
of Louis Jordan/Little Richard-style rock n' roll
done up big band style.So pretty much he brings many of the more
popular musical styles of the early 70's-afro jazz,funk and rock
into his world of Ellingtonia and much good spirits will be felt by all!
Maybe Ellingtons most important work
and certainly the most significant of his latter years.
an amazonian wrote
Duke Ellington – piano Mercer Ellington, Money Johnson, Eddie Preston, Cootie Williams - trumpet Malcolm Taylor, Booty Wood - trombone Chuck Connors - bass trombone Russell Procope - alto saxophone, clarinet Norris Turney - clarinet, alto saxophone, flute Harold Ashby, Paul Gonsalves - tenor saxophone Harry Carney - baritone saxophone Joe Benjamin - bass Rufus Jones - drums
My full name is Benjamin Obadiah Iqbal Zephaniah which is Christian, Jewish and Muslim. I was born in the district of Handsworth in Birmingham. My poetry is strongly influenced by the music and poetry of Jamaica and I can't remember a time when I was not creating poetry. This had nothing to do with school where poetry meant very little to me, in fact I had finished full time education at the age of 13.
I wanted to reach more people so at the age of 22 I headed south to London where Page One Books published my first book Pen Rhythm. My mission was to take poetry everywhere and I was able to do this through performing my poems directly to the people. I try to write poems that are fun but they should also have a serious message. I am very concerned about racism, animal rights, pollution and I have always believed that boys and girls should be treated equally. I hate wars and I think it is not right that adults should tell children not to deal with disputes by fighting and then those same adults go and fight in wars. I think armies should be banned.love jogging, Kung Fu, football, collecting old banknotes and exploring woods and forests. Most of my best friends are animals and I am passionate about being vegan. I love being on television programmes and I have been on some silly ones like The Bill and Eastenders. I have also been on things like Live and Kicking, Blue Peter and Wise Up - they were fun but they don't pay you much. I have travelled around the world many times and my favorite countries for performing are in Asia and Africa. I now live in Lincolnshire but I still support the best team in the world - Aston Villa! From Benjamin forKidz
1: Uptown Downtown 2: Naked 3: Superstar 4: Touch 5: Rong Radio Station 6: Our Fathers 7: Slow Motion 8: Responsible 9: Homesick 10: Genetics 11: Things We Say
Listen - Naked
Poetry pass
Stubborn Ass still uses the pass. He doesn' t know why, he just thinks it's fun saying thegoodone!
Rong Radio Station My ears are battered and burned and i have just learned that i have been listening to the wrong radio station
My mind has been brutalised now the pain can't be disguised I've been listening to the wrong radio station
I was beginning to believe that all black men were bad men and white men would reign again I was beginning to believe that i was a mindless drugs freak that couldn't control my sanity or my sexuality I was beginning to believe that I could not believe in nothing except nothing and all i ever wanted to do was to get you and to do you. I've been listening to the wrong radio station.
My future has been blighted i am so short sighted I've been listening to the wrong radio station
I was beginning to not trust me, in fact, i wanted to arrest me I've been listening to the wrong radio station.
I've been dancing to music that i can't stand. I've been reciting commercials to my girlfriends. I've been trying to convince myself that what i really need is a sunbed and a mortgage and some hairspray, the kind of hairspray that will wash my grey blues away.
I been trying to convince myself that i could ease my conscience if I gave a few pence or a few cents to a starving baby in Africa because African babies need my favours because Africa is full of dictators and oh yeah globalisation will bring salvation! I've been listening to the wrong radio station.
I thought my neighbours formed an axis of evil I wanna go kill people I've been listening to the wrong radio station.
I am sure I didn't inhale so why is my mind going stale I've been listening to the wrong radio station
I was beginning to believe that all muslims are terrorists and christian terrorists think they existed I really did believe that terrorism couldn't be done by governments not our government, not white government I just could not see what was wrong with me. I gave hungry people hamburgers you see I was beginning to believe that our children were better than their children their children would die from terrorism but i couldn't hear their children call and a child from Palastine simply didn't count at all. What despair, no children i was not aware I'd been listening to the wrong radio station.
For years I've been sedated, and now i think I'm educated I've been listening to the wrong radio station and every time i got ill, i took the same little white pill I've been listening to the wrong radio station.
When it started I was curious but then it got so serious It was cool when it began but now I really hate Iran and look at me now i wanna make friend with Pakistan I wanna bomb Afghanistan, and i need someone to tell me, where the hell is Kurdistan? Yeah, you can be my ally for a while until i come to bomb your child and I'm sure there's a continent called the middle east and i think i can bomb my way to peace I've been listening to the wrong radio station.
I've been listening to the wrong jams, I've been listening to the wrong beat I've been listening to the wrong radio station. I've been listening to the wrong tones of the wrong zones I've been listening to the wrong radio station I've been listening to the wrong voices I made such mad choices I've been listening to the wrong radio station. I've been listening to spies I've been listening to lies I've been listening to the wrong radio station.
I needed to know what some pop star somewhere was having for breakfast I needed to know that I was no longer working class I needed to know if the stock market rose 1 percent I needed to know that I had a ruler to give me confidence I needed to know that my life would improve loads if I had an operation on my nose. I needed to hear that DJ say, "Good morning, good morning!" I thought he was there just for me I loved the way that he would say, "This show was sponsered by...". "Oh my oh my", he made me cry I've been listening to the wrong radio station.
Can you dig this? I put my self on a hit-list I've been listening to the wrong radio station I'm laughing and I'm crying and I'm watching myself dying I've been listening to the wrong radio station.
Listen to him, can you hear? Listen to her, can you hear? Listen to it, can you hear? Listen to me, keep this frequency clear! Tune in, Drop out.
More Poetry
Nature Trail At the bottom of my garden There's a hedgehog and a frog And a lot of creepy-crawlies Living underneath a log, There's a baby daddy long legs And an easy-going snail And a family of woodlice, All are on my nature trail.
There are caterpillars waiting For their time to come to fly, There are worms turning the earth over As ladybirds fly by, Birds will visit, cats will visit But they always chose their time And I've even seen a fox visit This wild garden of mine.
Squirrels come to nick my nuts And busy bees come buzzing And when the night time comes Sometimes some dragonflies come humming, My garden mice are very shy And I've seen bats that growl And in my garden I have seen A very wise old owl.
My garden is a lively place There's always something happening, There's this constant search for food And then there's all that flowering, When you have a garden You will never be alone And I believe we all deserve A garden of our own.
Miss World Beauty is about how you behold more than silver more than gold if I say I am beautiful it means beauty is accessible, beauty is about how you greet de everyday people dat you meet you are beautiful so all rejoice your beauty is a natural choice.
My sister is a beautiful girl she don't want to be Miss World her value is not prize money more value than a pearl my sister is a beautiful girl human delight she could be out of sight but she would rather stay and fight.
Her legs are firm and strong best for self-defence my sister kicks like wildfire so cause her no grievance she won't walk the platform to upsex people's lust and you can't get the number of her height, age or bust, she don't want to go to the market to be viewed like a slave the viewing time is over put de judge in the grave, she don't need to go to the market 'cause she's already won beauty contest no contest she don't need to run.
I talk 'bout people in society who judge you by your looks, den, give you a number dat is written in a book, and, lustful eyes from all around come to look at you, and, day judge your lifetime by a quick interview.
My sister is a beautiful girl But she don't want to be Miss World her personality cannot be rewarded by no judge or earl. My sister is a beautiful girl She needs no contest and you can't put her with another judging who's the best. And you cannot judge my sister's heart By looking at her breasts.
Talking Turkeys! Be nice to yu turkeys dis christmas Cos' turkeys just wanna hav fun Turkeys are cool, turkeys are wicked An every turkey has a Mum. Be nice to yu turkeys dis christmas, Don't eat it, keep it alive, It could be yu mate, an not on your plate Say, Yo! Turkey I'm on your side. I got lots of friends who are turkeys An all of dem fear christmas time, Dey wanna enjoy it, dey say humans destroyed it An humans are out of dere mind, Yeah, I got lots of friends who are turkeys Dey all hav a right to a life, Not to be caged up an genetically made up By any farmer an his wife.
Turkeys just wanna play reggae Turkeys just wanna hip-hop Can yu imagine a nice young turkey saying, ÒI cannot wait for de chopÓ, Turkeys like getting presents, dey wanna watch christmas TV, Turkeys hav brains an turkeys feel pain In many ways like yu an me.
I once knew a turkey called........ Turkey He said "Benji explain to me please, Who put de turkey in christmas An what happens to christmas trees?", I said "I am not too sure turkey But itÕs nothing to do wid Christ Mass Humans get greedy an waste more dan need be An business men mek loadsa cash'.
Be nice to yu turkey dis christmas Invite dem indoors fe sum greens Let dem eat cake an let dem partake In a plate of organic grown beans, Be nice to yu turkey dis christmas An spare dem de cut of de knife, Join Turkeys United an dey'll be delighted An yu will mek new friends 'FOR LIFE'.
Riddim having a word
I have learnt that equality
May not mean freedom,
And freedom
May not mean liberation,
You can vote my friend
And have no democracy.
Being together dear neighbour
May not mean unity,
Your oppresors may give you chances
But no opportunities,
And the state that you are in
May have its state security
Yet you may be stateless
Without protection.
You my friend do not have to follow your leader,
The government does not have to govern you,
Im telling you Mom, you are greater than the law
If you are just when the law is not.
You see, once you are aware that new Labour
Does not care for the old workers
You may also know that change
May not mean revolution,
Once you realise that old conservatives
Are running out of things to conserve
You may also know that all politicians suck the same.
Electroacoustic guitar, laptop Live at Cafe Teufelhart, Dachau, May 16 2007
I was quite surprised when I found out from Steffen about the booking in Dachau as this is one of those place-names that have become synonymous with human atrocity. Don Van Vliet (Captain Beefheart) sang it perfectly in his «Dachau Blues.» As the Jewish son of a Holocaust survivor, performing in Dachau was especially resonant. Amplifying those feelings, I first imagined the name of the venue, «Teufelhart,» to be some ironic comment on the innateness of evil in humans. On tour with V-Effect in 1983, we passed by the concentration camp on our way to Regensburg by van. It was late in the afternoon on a cold rainy day and the grayness of the light blended with the grayness of the camp buildings to create an iconic image of bleakness.
For this concert, Axel from the Jazzclub Dachau picked me up in Munich and we drove to the village where we sat outside the cafe and enjoyed the sunshine, pastry and good espresso. He filled me in on some of the history of the village: before Hitler, it had long been known as an artistic community, a center for painters and musicians. It is very much that way now with galleries and restaurants. One can’t but help imagining a summer afternoon in 1941 or 1942, artists enjoying a kaffeeklatsch while nearby, the horror unfolded.
Despite the weight of the Holocaust, I’m angered in the way that contemporary Jewry acts as if they own all to themselves all of the suffering of WW2, all of the extermination, all of the death, and that it gives them license to do any brutality to the Palestinians who just happened to be living (some for thousands of years) in «their» Promised Land. For those who justify this with «God’s Covenant with Abraham,» it must be pointed out that the Covenant was for Abraham and ALL of his descendents which most certainly includes the Muslim world as they regard Abraham as their founding patriarch.
Returning to Dachau, we can’t forget that Hitler’s first victims there were the mentally ill, Communists and Socialists, homosexuals. What defines a Holocaust? Is it sheer numbers? A «capital H»? Why are there not international memorials for the vast millions of Chinese executed or dead of starvation during the Cultural Revolution? Stalin’s tens of millions? The Khmer Rouge? The Hutus and Tutsis? Darfur? How many hundreds of thousands of innocent citizens of Iraq killed as a result of the illegal and immoral American attack and occupation will it take for that absurd misadventure to be recognized as an atrocity? As my friends and I often say to each other once the discussion heats up, «let’s not get started.»
The Cafe Teufelheart is run by Mrs. Teufelheart – kindly and a lover of art and music. The club has a great kitchen and the performance space seems small but can pack in a good number of people at tables on the floorspace or up in the balcony in seats. I performed two sets which were recorded by Jan. One might call the music a live remix of my various solo programs for electro-acoustic guitar. Some of the themes are well-documented on the solo CD’s «Velocity of Hue» and «Quadrature» – others, unnamed, appear suddenly and then disappear after revealing their nature.
Vocabulary is arguably the key ingredient in any entirely solo performance on any instrument other than the piano. Concert In Dachau is, perhaps, the best realized music Electroacoustic guitarist Elliott Sharp has ever committed to record. It's rare to get the chance to take in a musician's very thought processes as is possible here, and a by-product is Sharp's vocabulary being is thrown into stark relief. It's to his resounding credit that it's rich, varied and alive with nuance.
Over the course of four lengthy performances, he seems at times to be in a kind of dialogue with the music itself. There's a moment in "Dachau 1" where the sheer level of his engagement evokes a Terry Riley-like minimalism, but the sense is usurped in the face of the volume of Sharp's ideas and their degrees of resonance. He seems acutely appreciative, at such moments, of Derek Bailey's "in the moment" approach to solo guitar, the knowledge seeming to fuel his own creativity, and acting as a kind of spur to his playing.
In the opening passages of "Dachau 2," Sharp is preoccupied with the guitar's augmented vocabulary. Both strings and the ways in which they are to be manipulated result in music that could just as easily be the product of a duo as opposed to a solo performance. Here Sharp shows himself to be a player of finesse; it's that quality, however, which informs the changes the piece undergoes.
"Dachau 3" finds him more preoccupied with the nature of the electric properties of the guitar, in a manner that, more than anything else, here shows how alert he is to the potential it has to offer. A reflective air sometimes pervades, but such is Sharp's appreciation of musical construction that he never seems to lose sight of where the music is going. In that respect, at least, Sharp is taking his music to new places. The whole program is in essence a manifesto for restless creativity, even while on "Dachau Encore" Sharp evokes the spirit of Blind Willie Johnson with his dexterous slide playing.
In the opening passages of "Dachau 2," Sharp is preoccupied with the guitar's augmented vocabulary. Both strings and the ways in which they are to be manipulated result in music that could just as easily be the product of a duo as opposed to a solo performance. Here Sharp shows himself to be a player of finesse; it's that quality, however, which informs the changes the piece undergoes.
India's Ace Flautist , needs no introduction to music lovers all over the globe. By virtue of his phenomenal talent, he and the Bansuri are literally synonymous. If the flute is likened to a temple, Pt. Ronu Majumdar would be its foremost worshipper. Ranendranath Majumdar, popularly known as Ronu Majumdar is a force to reckon with in the realm of Indian classical music both as a thinking musician and scintillating performer. Ronu Majumdar began playing the flute under the guidance of his father Dr. Bhanu Majumdar, late Pt. Lakshman Prasad Jaipurwale and finally the revered Pt. Vijay Raghav Rao. He was also fortunate to receive training from his grand guru Pt. Ravi Shankar. A powerhouse performer, Ronu Majumdar is firmly rooted in the Maihar gharana which has also given shape to sturdy musical oaks like Pt. Ravi Shankar and Ustad Ali Akbar Khan....
A musician who is listed in the "European Jazz Masters" and whose name is linked to the Zagreb Jazz Quartet, the Zagreb Jazz Quintet, BP Convention, BP Convention Big Band, BP Club All Stars, and Bosko Petrovic Trio, has died at the 76thage.
Legendary jazz musician Bosko Petrovic died at the 76th year of life in his apartment in Zagreb, Croatian media reported.
The founder of the popular jazz band Zagreb Jazz Quartet, a musician who later led the other Croatian and international membership - Zagreb Jazz Quintet, BP Convention, BP Convention Big Band, BP Club All Stars, and Bosko Petrovic Trio, was born in Bjelovar 1935th year. He started learning the violin at age six, and with 14 fell in love with jazz through listening to the American Forces Network. Later, playing the accordion and drums, and brilliant on the vibraphone. He is also known that the expression of their jazz incorporating elements of folk music.
Petrovic was the most important Croatian composer of jazz and some of his songs such as "Green Lobster Dream" or "With Pain I Was Born," will remain of lasting value Croatian musical creativity. source
From Moscow to l.A.
Boško Petrović & Neven Frangeš Duo
Boško Petrović-vibes; Neven Frangeš-piano
1. From Moscow to l.A.2. Green lobster dream 3. With pain i was born 4. Un chien Andalou 5. Keka kolo 6. Sarabanda 7. Valsa for jazz mama 8. Epitaph 9. Silver side 10. Croatia 91
Elvis Stanić Group Bolja strana svijeta / Le Meilleure Partie Du Monde
01. Sarabande 02. La passion c'est trop court terme (feat. Josipa Lisac) 03. Earthborn (feat. Valerija Nikolovska) 04. Domus De Janas (feat. Tamara Obrovac) 05. Kisha 06. Com' un Fier a bosc' (feat. Meri Trošelj) 07. Kiamet 08. Peter Pan Pickin' Strawberries 09. Le fardeau du temps 10. Hedwiga 11. Posve slobodna ( La passion c'est trop court terme)(feat. Josipa Lisac)
“The Better Side Of The World” is my comeback to musical roots, the music I grew up on, and wich I have almost forgotten in the years of coming of age. It's also my comeback to the accordion, the instrument i entered world of music with and due to wich I still hear and play music as an accordionist, although I've become well acquainted with a number of varied instruments.
This is not a jazz CD, at least not to such the extent as the previous one, although much is expressed in the language of jazz. I have tried to abandon myself to my Mediterranean roots and all the music from the other side of the sea that managed to touch my heart, to fado, tango, flamenco, Maori and African music, Sardinian and French sounds. I hope I have managed to carry over at least a small part of that endless warmth, beauty and good energy that overwhelmed me when dreaming and creating this music. (Elvis Stanic)
Newer liked winter or snow (first real one i saw when I was eighteen), now living in this mountains i really miss our Mediterranean sunshine. This is an album from an ususally jazz fusion guitarist that integrated some of Mediterranean warmness and easiness into his sound. Blend of Croatian traditional music, Latin rhythms makes this sound as a world music project, my nostalgia is maybe making me loosing my objectiveness, but I think he managed to avoid sterility that world music sound can sometimes carry. Elvis Stanić, multi-instrumentalist, (guitar, accordion, mandolin, tarabuke, keyboards, maybe more) earned my respect as a musician, by playing and living of jazz in Croatia, a mission impossible concerning how small market it is. Hope you will like it and that it will passas thegoodone.
Today is Orthodox Christmas. I grow up in a family that celebrated two Christmases, having a Catholic father and an Orthodox Mother, and as a child I looked forward to those holly-days, though newer baptized (my father thought that, should be my choice when I become a man (thank you Dad)). We didn't exchange gifts or spent a week frantically shopping or whatever people do nowdays, we were just together, decorating a tree, went to church. And then came the 90's, and war, we converted from socialism to "democratic society". To gain more power ower people, politicians did some services to the church (Vatican) in return they gave something back, politics were spoken from the altar. Along with national pride, new fashion was in, becoming an express christian, religious beliefs were mixed with nationalism, and along with people guns were blessed. Tragically the war was between Catholic, Orthodox and Muslim. I have a respect for honest Christians and Muslims i hope they won't get offended by this, it is history.... Loosing fate in institutions doesn't mean loosing fate in people. There are beautiful people out there with flags of different colours. To those of you celebrating today, I wish a Marry Christmas, Христос се роди! Hristos se rodi!
Orthodox Chants from Russia
1. Psalm 104: Bless the Lord, O my soul 2. The Great Litany [Liturgical Chant] 3. Blessed is the Man [Kiev Chant] 4. Lord, I have cried unto Thee (Tune of the Optina Pustyn Monastery) 5. Stichera (tune of Kiev-Pechera Lavra) 6. Glory, Stichera ("At God's Back") 7. Joyful Light [Znamenny Chant] 8. Vouchsafe, O Lord [Tune of the Optina Pustyn Monastery] 9. Stichera in the Litany [Znamenny Chant] 10. Stichera in the Versicles [Znamenny Chant] 11. Now Lettest Thou Depart 12. Hail, O Virgin
Learn moreof Russian chants trasnslated to English texts?
This is how it is Christmas in our neighbouring country. Christmas for Serbs who are Christian Ortodox, comes two weeks later than that of Roman Catholics. Serbs do not celebrate Christmas on December 25th, but on January 7th, while they celebrate New Year on January 13th rather than on December 31st. This is because the Serbs follow the Julian calendar, while Roman Catholics follow the Gregorian calendar.
The Gregorian reformation of the calendar came into force on 1582. It made corrections in the Julian calendar, the ten days from October 5th to 14th were canceled. Of course, not all countries changed over to the Gregorian calendar at that time. Germany, for instance, didn’t accepted the Gregorian calendar until 1775, while Bulgaria didn’t do so until 1917!
Serbs, like the most other people, accepted officially the Gregorian calendar, but all holidays, specially of cultural or religious contents, were celebrated according to the Julian calendar.
Badnje Vece – Christmas Eve January 6th
On the day before Christmas, the 6th of Januray, Serbs celebrate Badnje Vece. It is necessary to prepare badnjak (yule log) in advance. The Christmas Eve got its name from the badnjak tree. Actually badnjak is the most beautiful young oak that one can find in the woods.
The 6th of January, in the morning, the habit is to go in search of badnjak (oak branches with leaves). When the right one is found, it is necessary to cut it and bring it to the door of the home and to leave it there.
In the villages, where one still can find homes with old-fashioned hearths, the custom is that the father and the oldest sun go out to pick up the badnjak and to nock on the door of their home. Mother opens the door. Entering, they should say to the mother: "Welcome to you Badnje Vece! ("Christmas Eve")" and take the badnjak to the fireplace and place it on the fire to augure good fortune.
The custom is also to put straw around the fireplace, to simulate the connection with the earth. Usually, Serbs put coins, walnuts, almonds, dry figs on the straw, all the gifts for the children.
The traditional January 6th supper for Serbs is religious diatary meals, usually fish.
Christmas Eve supper is very interesting. It is very rich even if it is always meatless meal. Symbolically the food is always related to the world of death – baked beans, fish, dryed figs, dryed plums and apples.
At the end of supper, all the rests of the food should be left on the table and covered with a tablecloth, until Christmas morning. The belief is that during the night the spirits of the dead come to eat the food left for them. This way Christmas Eve has the character of All Souls’ Day
Before going to bed it is very important to cover the badnjak with hot ash so it will burn slowly to the following morning. .... more
Koljivo (also known as zhito) is a sweet boiled wheat dish used liturgically in the Orthodox Christian tradition. Compare koljivo to Polishkutia. The most striking difference, perhaps, is that Poles eat their wheat pudding almost exclusively on Christmas Eve, and Orthodox Christians eat theirs on Christmas Day and after a funeral, on the first Friday of the Great Lent, and at slavas.
Recipes vary widely from household to household, but usually consist of boiled wheat berries with honey or sugar, nuts and, sometimes, dried fruits, cinnamon and cream.
Makes 8 servings Serbian Cooked Wheat Pudding - Koljivo (Zhito) Prep Time: 1 hour
Cook Time: 3 hours
Total Time: 4 hours
Ingredients:
Note: Wheat berries are available at health food stores and online, but kamut berries, whole-grain barley or rice can be substituted (cooking time must be adjusted) with good effect.
1 pound wheat berries, picked over and thoroughly washed
1 teaspoon salt
1 pound ground (not chopped) walnuts
1 pound confectioners' sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla, rum or almond flavoring
1 teaspoon cinnamon
Preparation:
Place washed wheat in a large pot or Dutch oven and cover with several inches of hot water and let stand for 1 hour. Drain and wash it well in lukewarm water 2 times.
In a large pot or Dutch oven, bring wheat, 4 quarts water and salt to a boil, reduce heat and simmer until tender. Do not overcook. When wheat is done (anywhere from 90 minutes to 2 hours), rinse in lukewarm water and strain twice. Let the wheat stay in the strainer over a bowl to catch the drips overnight.
The next day, mix wheat with walnuts, sugar, flavoring and cinnamon. Transfer to a large glass bowl and decorate.
To serve for a funeral, mound the koljivo into a shape resembling a grave. Sometimes the entire surface is dusted with confectioners' sugar and the deceased's initials are outlined on top with raisins, or a cross is made with raisins or sugar cubes. A candle often is placed in the center of the koljivo and lighted at the beginning of the memorial service and extinguished at its end. After the ceremony, those attending eat the koljivo while expressing good wishes for the departed.
...Songs Of The Volcano was filmed during two trips in 2003 and 2004, on location in and around Rabaul, Papua New Guinea. The camera I used stood up remarkably well considering what we were up against. On the first trip, the shooting conditions were pretty extreme. The volcano Tavurvur, which had destroyed eighty per cent of the town in a violent eruption in 1994, was still spewing out tonnes of fine volcanic ash, which sometimes got a bit lumpier and fell like snow. Generally it was a bit like bull dust and could find the tiniest gaps to enter, except its razor sharp granules with a bit of friction worked like sandpaper and could wreck anything. Coupled with the incredible humidity and torrential downpours, it was a mighty challenge to keep equipment clean and working properly. When we were shooting outside, I was constantly lens-cleaning with a can of compressed air, brush and cleaning tissues, usually under my shirt or another cover of some sort. ...more
Same old ass same old pass 6 steps to haven, thegoodone is up there. For some good friends down here...
Till the age of 40, Paul Bowles (1910-1999) was a composer and music critic, composing for Broadway musicals, Hollywood movie scores, incidental music for ballet. He once acknowledged to be a composer of ‘hotel music’, though his serious music calls to mind that of Copland, Virgil Thomson, Francis Poulenc or Satie. It is actually when he get tired of writing easy music that he turned to writing literature. Curated by Claudia Gould and Stephen Frailey, ‘The Voices of Paul Bowles’ is an audio portrait combining some of the composer’s music with readings from his own texts, morrocan traditional music and location recordings from Tangier and Morroco where he lived from 1947. The most striking device is the handsome and warm voice of Bowles reading through his writings. Also notable are the lively field recordings of folk local music Bowles made himself in 1959 (tracks #01, 03, 06 & 09). The simoon (my conjecture) heard at the end of ‘The Garden’, track #08, is a short but evocative recording of a North Africa typical wind. Bowles own compositions are exquisite vignettes full of humour and wit.
