Tag Archive: Carla Bozulich


CARLA BOZULICH / FRANCESCO GUERRI

Teatro Comandini, Cesena, Italy  13th October, 2012 (part of the Màntica festival)

carla_bozulich

Bozulich & Guerri pictured at another show.

One thing you can say for certain about Carla Bozulich is that she sings and plays (guitar) from the heart.

She’s not one of those artists who are content to go through the motions or to give a carefully rehearsed performance.

There’s a certain affectation about this heightened self expressiveness but, fortunately, the honesty of her brand of punk poetry cuts through any pretentious arty-fartiness.

She thrives on spontaneity and distrusts the limitations and  ‘straight’ framework of verse-chorus-verse songs.

She uses words as a way into the subconscious self and improvisation as a way of bypassing formulas.

Her modus operandi is primal and cathartic – she wants to shred the deadness of empty gestures, to tap into thoughts without rationalising them first, to be open to the freedom of impulsive ideas, to give voice to her demons.

This show with Italian cellist Francesco Guerri gives an insight into a creative process that depends heavily on trial and error. Rhymes or reasons are optional extras so we are left to make what we will of the title of the one hour performance – ‘Witching Witching Witching’ – and the following lines of freeform verse in the programme:
in the
tree in the night a bright bug lit the leaves
underneath it
peaked it was woman it was paper it was
branded on her

Carla Bozulich doesn’t speak any Italian and introduces songs in mostly incoherent English – lost in some linguistic middle ground.

At one point she says : “There is a man on the bus. You say ‘what man on the bus?’. I say ‘don’t complain when this man burns down your city” . “It’s hard to translate”, she concedes, which is putting it mildly. Hard to comprehend more like!  The moral we are meant to take from this is : ‘Be nice to the man on the bus’.

“Most of the songs are written especially for this show”, Bozulich says at one point then later contradicts herself by saying that they haven’t actually prepared much in advance. As someone who prefers the existential thrill of being in the moment I wouldn’t imagine forward planning is among her priorities. Papers are scattered on the floor but if they contain lyrics they are not placed where they can be read and are probably there as a reminder of earlier brainstorming.

“I’m a little nervous tonight”, she admits but she doesn’t say this in any apologetic way – she just wants us to know something about where her mind is.

The small theatre venue is dimly lit and, for once, the instruction not take photos or videos is adhered to. The audience mainly sit and sprawl on cushions – on the same level as the artists. Two times, Bozulich wanders among the audience half singing, half ranting.

Francesco Guerri works on the cello in a very frenzied and physical manner – often dispensing with the bow to make playing literally a hands on experience. His day job is as a music therapist in a hospital in Bologna and his approach to the instrument gives some insight into the healing potential of music as a means of expression beyond words. This is undoubtedly one of the factors that drew these two artists together.

In one interview (with Ondarock) Bozulich said “Music is the only way to be non existent”. You get a sense that any performance by her is one of someone getting lost in the invisible fire of the spirit.

Some of it works – most of it doesn’t – “we didn’t charge extra for the mistakes”, she says at one point.

CARLA BOZULICH CONCERT REVIEW

Carla Bozulich
Carla Bozulich

A cold Tuesday night in Emilia Romagna, Italy. Not quite freezing but chilly enough perhaps to discourage citizens from leaving the cosiness of their homes. Maybe for this, or possibly due to the woefully scant publicity, this intriguing triple bill at Teatro Rasi, Ravenna was a sparsely attended affair, under 100 brave souls venturing out. This made for a fairly flat atmosphere for these three bands to contend with. As none of them trouble much with between song banter, the songs are interspersed with pregnant pauses lending the performance a stilted feel. “Is anyone out there?”, asks Carla Bozulich’s bass player at one point with a hint of desperation. After our half hearted response she concludes “There’s two at least”! Carla Bozulich herself seems disconcerted by the fact that she can’t see we the punters; pitching her performance into an unquantifiable void was clearly troubling to her.

Bozulich’s set focuses on the songs of anguish and rage of last year’s atmospheric ‘Evangelista’ a radical shift from her critically acclaimed reinterpretaion of Willie Nelson’s ‘Red Haired Stranger’ that marked her solo debut in 2003. There’s nothing remotely country orientated about her new material, as you would expect with collaborators who include members of apocalyptic post-rockers like ‘A Silver Mt Zion’ & ‘Godspeed! You Black Emperor’.

Clad fetchingly in all black designer rags and 16 hole boots, Carla Bozulich paces the stage like a caged animal or else jumps frentically like a child throwing a tantrum (breaking a guitar string and almost losing her knickers in the process!). It’s an energetic display that craves for more than the polite applause than she achieves and in this regard I can appreciate her frustration. I get something of the same feeling when teaching unresponsive students in a language class – groups known in the trade as ‘the living dead’. The desire to stomp and curse to generate some (any!) reaction is strong.

Still, casting a critical eye on Carla Bozulich, it is also plain that she pushes a bit too hard at times. The subdued tension of a slow building track like ‘Pissing’ contains more menace and attitude than more primal explosions of feeling. What she achieves best, assisted by her highly accomplished backing band, is the ability to integrate noise dynamics with a controlled and poetically charged intensity. Atonal walls and wails of sound compliment her emploring voice perfectly. The two songs that close her set – ‘Baby,That’s The Creeps’ and ‘Evangelista I’ – are prime illustrations of the balance between stretches of abstract free-form with relatively structured content. Both these are both scary and original pieces brought to life on stage by the virtuoso playing of Thierry Amar (?) on double bass.

(A rough video of Evangelista can be viewed on my YouTube recording:

Accompanying Carla Bozulich’s headline slot are a somewhat incongruous foursome from California who trade under the name of Gowns. It’s not hard to see why there’s quite an Undeground buzz about their brand of psychedelic Velvets style rock meets drone. They are fronted by the attention grabbing figure of Erika Anderson whose length and legginess is emphasised by mini skirt and luminous white tights. Aside from her looks, she also demonstrated some impressive guitar abuse and cool Kim Gordon-esque vocals. In marked contrast, looking like an Indie-rock love child of Woody Allen, Ezra Buchla looks postively nerdy. His electro-noodling, violin droning and general vocal raging all sounded more mannered and less convincing and more self consciously arty. My favourite. however, was Jacob Felix Heule on drums. I was particularly taken by the energy of his playing and his neat trick of balancing extra cymbals on his kit to create a shimmering and sizzling backing.

It was a good night for drummers. The opening act had one Vittorio Demarin showing off the original art of playing violin (more drone!) with one hand and pounding out a tribal beat with the other. He makes up one third of FatherMurphy whose name sounds Irish, whose music sounds English but who are in fact Italian. Not that you’d guess their nationality from their performance. The songs are sung in a cockneyish drawl and singer Federico Zanatta takes nervous gulps of water in between songs rather than risk destroying the enigma with banalities like band name or song titles. The ghost of Syd Barrett looms large over Father Murphy who blend his quirky style with more expansive psychedelc tinged tunes.

All in all, a good night of new music but also proof that bands like these are more at home in the turmoil of sweatier and noisier venues than the stiffer formality of theatres.