miércoles, 21 de diciembre de 2016

Feliz Navidad

Este blog cierra actividad hasta enero.
Aprovecho para desear a los lectores feliz Navidad, con este chrisma dylaniano, obra de la ilustradora Andrea Reyes (ojo a esta joven autora que está preparando una interesantísima novela gráfica para 2017 sobre Valle Inclán y la Primera Guerra Mundial)

martes, 20 de diciembre de 2016

Bob Dylan, gira europea para la primavera de 2017

Estos asuntos del Nobel a Dylan le llevan a dar un par de conciertos por esas tierras. Ya se han publicado fechas, y de paso algunas más para empezar a hablar de una gira europea en la primavera de 2017.
Hay fechas para Suecia, Noruega, Dinamarca, Alemania y Francia en abril, y en mayo en Gran Bretaña.
¿España? Lo veo complicado.

miércoles, 14 de diciembre de 2016

Bob Dylan, un apunte antropológico

Del discurso que Bob Dylan envió a la academia y que leyó la embajadora, se puede sacar mucho. Es un texto breve, pero abre varios temas interesantes, como la tensa relación entre creatividad y realización de la idea; la intención del creador; la sorpresa por encontrarse en esta "compañía extraña".
Pero hay un párrafo realmente revelador. Al final casi del discurso, Dylan afirma que "cada persona tiene una identidad individual, separada, un mundo en sí mismo". Después de apuntar que ha actuado para 50.000 personas y para 50, dice esta frase. Porque 50.000 son una sola. Porque el problema que ha tenido la música popular es que corre el peligro de masificar en vez de individualizar a cada oyente. Quizá la mercantilización o la industrialización sean las culpables. Quizá la propia simplicidad de las canciones. Pero la intención de Dylan era hablar a cada uno de sus oyentes. Hacer a cada persona, más persona al escuchar sus canciones.

Texto del discurso de Bob Dylan en los Nobel

Good evening, everyone. I extend my warmest greetings to the members of the Swedish Academy and to all of the other distinguished guests in attendance tonight.

I'm sorry I can't be with you in person, but please know that I am most definitely with you in spirit and honored to be receiving such a prestigious prize. Being awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature is something I never could have imagined or seen coming. From an early age, I've been familiar with and reading and absorbing the works of those who were deemed worthy of such a distinction: Kipling, Shaw, Thomas Mann, Pearl Buck, Albert Camus, Hemingway. These giants of literature whose works are taught in the schoolroom, housed in libraries around the world and spoken of in reverent tones have always made a deep impression. That I now join the names on such a list is truly beyond words.

I don't know if these men and women ever thought of the Nobel honor for themselves, but I suppose that anyone writing a book, or a poem, or a play anywhere in the world might harbor that secret dream deep down inside. It's probably buried so deep that they don't even know it's there.

If someone had ever told me that I had the slightest chance of winning the Nobel Prize, I would have to think that I'd have about the same odds as standing on the moon. In fact, during the year I was born and for a few years after, there wasn't anyone in the world who was considered good enough to win this Nobel Prize. So, I recognize that I am in very rare company, to say the least.

I was out on the road when I received this surprising news, and it took me more than a few minutes to properly process it. I began to think about William Shakespeare, the great literary figure. I would reckon he thought of himself as a dramatist. The thought that he was writing literature couldn't have entered his head. His words were written for the stage. Meant to be spoken not read. When he was writing Hamlet, I'm sure he was thinking about a lot of different things: "Who're the right actors for these roles?" "How should this be staged?" "Do I really want to set this in Denmark?" His creative vision and ambitions were no doubt at the forefront of his mind, but there were also more mundane matters to consider and deal with. "Is the financing in place?" "Are there enough good seats for my patrons?" "Where am I going to get a human skull?" I would bet that the farthest thing from Shakespeare's mind was the question "Is this literature?"

When I started writing songs as a teenager, and even as I started to achieve some renown for my abilities, my aspirations for these songs only went so far. I thought they could be heard in coffee houses or bars, maybe later in places like Carnegie Hall, the London Palladium. If I was really dreaming big, maybe I could imagine getting to make a record and then hearing my songs on the radio. That was really the big prize in my mind. Making records and hearing your songs on the radio meant that you were reaching a big audience and that you might get to keep doing what you had set out to do.

Well, I've been doing what I set out to do for a long time, now. I've made dozens of records and played thousands of concerts all around the world. But it's my songs that are at the vital center of almost everything I do. They seemed to have found a place in the lives of many people throughout many different cultures and I'm grateful for that.

But there's one thing I must say. As a performer I've played for 50,000 people and I've played for 50 people and I can tell you that it is harder to play for 50 people. 50,000 people have a singular persona, not so with 50. Each person has an individual, separate identity, a world unto themselves. They can perceive things more clearly. Your honesty and how it relates to the depth of your talent is tried. The fact that the Nobel committee is so small is not lost on me.

But, like Shakespeare, I too am often occupied with the pursuit of my creative endeavors and dealing with all aspects of life's mundane matters. "Who are the best musicians for these songs?" "Am I recording in the right studio?" "Is this song in the right key?" Some things never change, even in 400 years.

Not once have I ever had the time to ask myself, "Are my songs literature?"

So, I do thank the Swedish Academy, both for taking the time to consider that very question, and, ultimately, for providing such a wonderful answer.

My best wishes to you all,

Bob Dylan

Discurso de Bob Dylan en los Nobel (pronunciado por la embajadora de los USA en Suecia)

Hoy que celebramos el aniversario de este blog...

martes, 13 de diciembre de 2016

Patti Smith, la Nobel vicaria, se emociona interpretando A Hard rain's a-gonna fall

Maravillosa Patti Smith como Nobel vicaria. Exquisita etiqueta dylaniana, traje negro y camisa blanca abotonada. Su melena canosa suelta. Interpretó un emocionante A Hard rain's a gonna fall. Tanto que se le saltan las lágrimas: "I'm sorry, I'm so nervous", y muy delicada solicita a los músicos (una guitarra muy sobria, un pedal steel, y toda una orquesta al final) que le acompañaban comenzar otra vez. 
Ojo a los príncipes Victoria y Daniel que siguen el ritmo. Príncipes dylanitas.

miércoles, 7 de diciembre de 2016

Antonio Resines y Nacho Sáenz de Tejada (Sala Clamores - 50 años con-sin Dylan)

Gracias Nemo, uno de nuestros lectores, llegamos a este vídeo en el que podemos ver a Antonio Resines, traductor de las letras de Bob Dylan, interpretando Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues en Clamores.