E l e v e n A r a b e s q u e s
To D i a d o r i m

O t a c í l i o M e l g a ç o

[duration 02:03:30] all rights reserved

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The artist Otacílio Melgaço has two official curators in the virtual world. A curator (from Latin: ´curare´, meaning ´to take care´) is a manager or overseer. Traditionally, keeper of a cultural heritage institution (e.g., gallery, museum, library or, as the present case: sound archive) is a content specialist charged with an institution's collections and, highlighting the context in force here, involved with the interpretation of personal (heritage) material. Both, Mr. Paz and Mr. Campbell, are, therefore, reviewers of the Melgacian works. To learn more about their missions, tasks, assignments and responsibilities by means of valuable informations regarding the compositional process, the performative rhizomes and other special features, just click the following link: otaciliomelgaco.wixsite.com/preamblebypsp
(O.M.Team; P r e l u d e)

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“´The word a-r-a-b-e-s-q-u-e is derived from Western ideas of Arabic music, which were highly embellished. In the classical jargon, the arabesque is a type of music generally for piano, which uses melodies to create the atmosphere of Arabic architecture.´ Currently, these traditional canons are not necessarily inescapable references… However, Otacílio Melgaço preserves the ´spirit´ of arabesques, exultantly. We can hear echoes of Arabic sounds, indeed. Regardless of: updated, not stereotyped. For those who had difficulties to find out which musical sources were embraced by Otacílio Melgaço here, I tell you: Behind layers and layers of effects and ´sonic alchemy´, there are - between one or another instrument - also and principally pianos! Exception is the last arabesque, almost extra Piece - complex and imperious. In brief, a ghostly phonograph record, Spectra Collector! It´s quite ethereal because dedicated to a feeric being, I think. Eternal muse, beyond good and evil. Arabesques to Diadorim.

But who is Diadorim?

´Grande Sertão: Veredas (Portuguese for ´Great Backlands: Tracks´; English translation: ´The Devil to Pay in the Backlands´) is a novel published in 1956 by the Brazilian writer João Guimarães Rosa. The original title refers to the veredas - small paths through wetlands usually located at higher altitudes characterized by the presence of grasses and buritizais, groups of the buriti palm-tree ´Mauritia flexuosa´ (by the way, title of another recommended work of Otacílio - melgacootacilio.bandcamp.com/album/mauritia-flexuosa-11-pe-as-para-viola-caipira-transubstanciada-otac-lio-melga-o-duration-01-12-58 -), that criss-cross the Sertão region in northern Minas Gerais, Southeast Brazil - as a labyrinthine net where an outsider can easily get lost, and where there is no single way to a certain place, since all paths interconnect in such a way that any road can lead anywhere. The English title refers to a later episode in the book involving an attempt to make a deal with the Devil. Most of the book's spirit is however lost in translation, as the Portuguese original is written in a register that is both archaic and colloquial, making it a very difficult book to translate. The combination of its size, linguistic oddness and polemic themes caused a shock when it was published, but now it is considered one of the most important novels of South American literature. In a 2002 poll of 100 noted writers conducted by Norwegian Book Clubs, the book was named among the top 100 books of all time.´

Diadorim is the protagonist alongside brother in arms (´jagunço´) Riobaldo and ´represents the various ambiguities and paradoxes that arise in the´ chef d'oeuvre. Is, at the same time, ´the personification of good and evil, male and female, of certainty and doubt, and so on.´ There are a surprising secret (secrecy surrounding directly Diadorim) that pervades this entire saga and the author asks us not to reveal it to those who have not read ´Grande Sertão: Veredas´. I will respect Guimarães Rosa. All I reveal above seems sufficient and ready to encourage you to get to know even more the involved context. Rosian, Diadorimian and Melgacian.

A very important detail is that one of the characters is called Otacília: ´one of the women loved by Riobaldo; embodies purity, the ´love-feeling´, wife that hopes and prays.´ Nominally, Otacília is the Femino genre. Otacílio, the Masculine. In a way the composer and instrumentalist Melgaço is present in the greatest work of his admired Rosa. Much could be analyzed in this respect (singular parallel; ´mirror house´; predestination) but I'll defer to the next and adequate opportunity.

In Portuguese, ´Sertão´ is a term that derives from ´Deserto´ (´Desert´). There is no word that can really translate – in mythology and ubiquity – ´Sertão´ but ´Backlands´ is the most widely used – approximately. The great Desert of the deserts would be nicknamed 'Desertão'. Thus, 'De-Sertão' - 'Sertão'.

When we ask ourselves: which is The Magnanimous Desert? It´s inevitable that a name jump to mind: Sahara. Pristine mythical fount; cradle of fabulous Arabian; source of hypnotic legends and grains in eternal hourglass of The Thousand and One Nights. Because everything is gestated and calved from the desert men (even their architectural ontology): this is the origin, one way or another, of arabesque. To tie up the loose ends: The arabesque is a form of artistic decoration consisting of ´surface decorations based on rhythmic linear patterns of scrolling and interlacing foliage, tendrils´ or plain lines, often combined with other elements. It usually consists of a single design which can be 'tiled' or seamlessly repeated as many times as desired.
So the whole cycle engendered and adopted by Melgaço can be better understood. Now we can unite the pieces of this captivating puzzle. Between this and that, Otacílio Melgaço remakes etymologies - to tie up those loose ends. Offers arabesques to Diadorim; he will fetch in the Great Desert charms and incantations to the most enigmatic and stunning figure of the Great Hinterland (as well ´Grande Sertão´). Prefix: Hinter. The inner epicenter. Of lands, of beings.

A being coming from other time´n´spaces... It's gorgeous the cover art! Supported by a statue of Fitz-Gerald and pictorially prepared here by O.M., brings to light Diadorim almost interstellar, from other galaxies... Diadorim would be with the well closed eyes or staring at the highest? Diadorim - magic word, forbidden name - give us a state of sky-ey enjoyment or deeply breathes to fulfill its mythological destiny? And - everything is possible! Through the looking-glass, what you found there? - on your body would not be grains of sand? Grains of the Desert or Sertão - under the midnight sun, who knows? Gold metal grains, larger, expanding, sometimes reflecting feeric colors, spellbinding, a second futuristic skin; the hinterghost has no home and everything is a Melgacian dream now, a delirium, we are in his Victorialand! ´Forty feet Forty frantics Fish fate Fiss fate Clean fish Formidiablo...´ His Wonderland! `Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe.´
Melga(r)land(s)! Full of mirrors, labyrinths, echoes and to live is very dangerous. Like the sea (a sea of sand?). Sea, Swallow Me. Us. Bloody and Blunt. Ooze Out and Away, Onehow... Reverberations coming from the Eleven Arabesques in Minutiae remind me ´The Moon and the Melodies´, album produced by the collaboration of the Scottish group Cocteau Twins and the American composer Harold Budd. It's no secret the painstaking esteem that Melgaço dedicates to Cocteau Twins. I'll reiterate here my Interlude and also will, ecstatic, extrapolate. Eyes are mosaics and Ears can be memory gongs...

I N T E R L U D E

{Blue.
Bell.
Knoll.

Topsy-turvy, head over heels...

A magnetic hypothesis: I think this work of Otacílio Melgaço, among his creations, the most Cocteaunian! If once again O.M. wished to reveal - gently, without fanfare - indescribable love, devotion and surrender to Cocteau Twins, he succeeded once and once again and with all the honors of this world. And all others. More: there´s what he conveys in words and what he prefers to pass through sounds. Although a very private man, through amicable contact we ever had, it´s an intuition but I know the ´diabolical´ mind of Otacílio, his Machiavellian genius (in eccentric and godlike sense), and what I say seems to me undeniable, in fact.

The Eleven Arabesques - a captivating Treasure - would be the most beautiful homage already received by the Scottish group, I have absolutely sure.

No one could have given birth to ´this´ numbing record and no one could, through his offspring, generate a parallel like ´this´ (yes, I'm amazed at the thought that Liz Fraser is nonetheless a little Diadorim... Both twins?): no one apart from Melgaço. The tribute would be deciphered by the singular way the Brazilian composer and instrumentalist captures ´the Aura´ of the Cocteaunian Sound - their fabulously rare jewel! Are archetypes, certainly. Otacílio ´catches´ but does not reveal explicitly. No explicitness because otherwise we could fall back on what already exists: max manifestations that seem spectra of the originals - the trio - copied by epigones (even with the best intentions). Or else, in my opinion, when there is no dubbing attempts, there´s considerable discrepancy between what I hear and who is honored. Of course, I recognize laudable exceptions. Ordinarily - or they sin because want to be ´the same´ (it's impossible) or sin to be unconvincing in their differences. O.M., an artist of the same level of Scots, takes another path. His deference rises to the unequalled ´spirit´ which is the ontology of the band and starting from this stratosphere is that Otacílio Melgaço mixes his authenticity with regards to Elizabeth Fraser, Robin Guthrie and Simon Raymonde. No explicitness or truism ... coming to an exact point: there´re only traces of voices in the last arabesque! The disc remaining is all instrumental. No vocalic vibrations!: taking into account a group - worthy of such encomium - that probably and presumably possessed the most incomparable singer who may have stepped on this planet (and thankfully she keeps walking). No words! But ... in other words, Melgaço sought the indivisible part of that sonic fluxus, you see? He took a challenging and hazardous path. He has the perception that all three are a deep-rooted musical body and is considering this uniqueness that goes beyond the stylistic concretion up to the magmatic sap that makes C.T.: Cocteau Twins! Otacílio recognizes such nectar and lives up to its etymology. In Greek and Roman mythology: the drink of the gods! (In this case, gods are a triumvirate.) And this life blood also starts flowing in the Melgacian veins. (I'm sorry, in this case, gods already are a tetrarchy) and, Ave!, we can hear the flow of the vital blood! Eleven times.}

Obsequiously I ask permission to you for a bit of explicit good mood: Only do not ask me ´Why e-l-e-v-e-n are the arabesques?´ But even so, if ´impertinently´ the question is thrown into the air, I would say: The interval of an octave and a fourth is an 11th. A complete 11th chord has almost every note of a diatonic scale OR In Igor Stravinsky's The Rite of Spring, there are 11 consecutive repetitions of the same chord OR 11 is a spiritually significant number in Thelema OR In Basque, ´hamaika´ - ´eleven´ - has the double meaning of ´infinite´, probably from ´amaigabe´,´ endless´, as in Hamaika aldiz etortzeko esan dizut! - I told you infinite/eleven times to come! - OR English-speaking surveyors have developed several slang terms for 11 to distinguish it from its rhyme ´seven´: ´punk´, ´top´ & ´railroad´ OR The number 11 is important in numerology, as it is the first of the ´Master Numbers´ OR Being only one hour before 12:00, the ´eleventh hour´ means the last possible moment to take care of something, and often implies a situation of urgent danger or emergency OR In Astrology, Aquarius is the 11th astrological sign of the Zodiac OR The Eleven is a song by The Grateful Dead AND so on… After all, I have the hypothesis that cites Stravinsky as my favorite. Well, I'm not so sure. What really matters is that we must always allow us - just as I allow myself now - valuable doses of irrationality in our lives, no? João Guimarães Rosa, on one occasion, said that this book ´Grande Sertão: Veredas´ was his autobiography irrational. Perhaps the eleven arabesques are irrational pages of a biography - among many possible others - of Melgaço. Will we have to get lost in the infinite vastness of the Great Desert to find out? What I can say categorically is: If we get lost in the vastness of the Grande Sertão that is the Artwork of Otacílio Melgaço - more and more as far as possible We´ll find ourselves.” (Caio Campbell; Anglo-Brazilian semiologist and musician)

“Deaf. Are we all becoming d-e-a-f?

It is clear that much of the world's population changed their listening habits. If before there were so many focus on custom full-time to absorb and enjoy the act of listening to a phonograph record, nowadays, it seems that this scenario is entering extinction. I refer to new generations, in the majority. Worrying because is already the massive present and the inexorable future. Albert Camus and his Myth of Sisyphus: - The everyday man does not like to ´waste time´ (sic). On the contrary, everything speeds. At the same time, however, nothing interests him but himself. He continues rushed behind a hope whatsoever. The absurd man (and so I shall call O.M.) begins where the everyday man ends. At the point, leaving the rush, the spirit wants to enter. In his diversity. I would say, the spirit of the time (the time heart and not a transient entropic crippling acceleration), life, art, revolt, freedom! Notwithstanding we witnessed and we suffered the Despotism of Everyday Men. Today, various activities are held at the same time and or music becomes a mere background or even if is actually absorbed is placed side by side with other frantic attractions: computer, mobile phone, television etc. The scenario: Someone who eagerly returns home and sits in a comfortable chair or lie in bed; reduces the intensity of light or throws himself to uterus from complete darkness; telephone and computer turned off; places the disc in the player and from body´n´soul this ´old-fashioned´ man surrenders to a unique experience: he will hear the new work of one of his favorite artists: all I have narrated above is really almost a fiction - today. The most common image is the individual that downloads the same phonographic album, or just one or other track, and quickly will be part a folder containing thousands and thousands of other works incarcerated on a computer while there will be a new waiting for other artistic releases that will have the same automatic destination. And, the original disc will be heard simultaneously as an e-mail will be written or a movie is watched or phone conversation unfolds or whatever - but this is the current schizophrenia of postmodern life or whatever is. In the end, nothing is really heard. What counts is that everything is stored and what matters is the next to join the millions of dead archives. Famous last words to the less innocent, in fact are we not here referring to a gradual deafness Kafkian process?

>> An aside: Fortunately here in Bandcamp everything is correct and it seems fair for those who create art and for those who will appreciate - hear or purchase honestly the artist's work. But what happens out there - through unethical mechanisms - can be very different: as the artist who should live of his making - as well as any other professional - will have his invention downloaded 'for free' (Is there a free lunch for this ´Downloader´? Probably this ´virtuous´ guy should think: Yes, for the artist lunch is always free). Musicians, in this sense, are the most affected. Perhaps the ´politically correct´ comrade believes that the creator survives feeding on light, paying his bills with a smile or something. Perhaps ´naive and well-meaning´, he has no idea all the way that the creator had to tread - not forgetting the many studio costs, session musicians, legalizations etc - until his music finalized and recorded and even inserted on the internet. Perhaps the same ´sympathetic fella´ that - with a clear conscience - performs this ´kind´ of tricky download should be called corsair or marooner or raider, I suppose. Willy-nilly... One of the justifications given by them is that musicians should be sustained through shows, while the works continue to be plundered virtually. It would be like telling a writer, 'Hey, do not feel bothered by having your books smuggled because you can live giving lecturing or being invited to literature festivals.' In musical universe, is easy to think about artists (or pre-made puppets?) hired by major labels (do not know if they still exist but you understand that it´s a metaphor for the entertainment industry power - always in favor of some and against many); quite rich; who dominate the media; that dictate what that easy entertainment industry will do (or will continue to be their marionettes - since ´everyone´ has high profits); with a power of imperious propaganda; consumerism handlers in style steamroller; usually artistically are disposable as toothpaste or soap (their audience is lobotomized), but the important thing is to be photogenic and never stop being news... But and the independent? I mean serious professionals, dedicated and that not allow themselves to be mere automatons objects of consumption. Professionals who often only have the virtual world to effectively expose their confections. Those who struggle to survive and also struggle to bring to light their creations! Anyway, this really seems irreversible... Lamentably what I have described is an extension of the long preceding context, have no doubt. Extension of the following context, too. <<

Picking up the thread, I am not against technology, however. I am a user as all inevitably are. I'm hopeless as to how the human being explores technology and allow himself to be exploited by technologies which become enslaving. Can you feel the difference? (Someone who has analyzed all this - above and below - panorama is Paul Virilio, a French cultural theorist and urbanist. He is best known for his writings about technology as it has developed in relation to speed and power, with diverse references to architecture, the arts, the city and the military.) To resume my reasoning: Lack very little for two people one facing each other, I repeat: one facing each other communicate not through the mouth and the word spoken and heard but by keys of an electronic device. Even if they are a few inches from each other, believe. Are walking the streets, whether in a restaurant, in a concert hall (who cares about being polite?), where they are: more and more are people-and-keys: inseparable. Is a gradual graft. Typing and typing and typing (People and keys. People and screens. People and headphones. Whatever. Will soon be chips embedded in their bodies...): but in fact, what is being shared? What is so relevant and so urgent - all the time? Excuse me, most of the time is ephemera and extreme proof of how people are psychologically and emotionally/sentimentally disabled. Is a gradual dehumanization. There are an impressive number of people who can not live without being connected 25 hours a day; excuse me, but only very empty beings to live an overwhelming obsession or addiction like that. Some of these cases are from people who should aim less palliative means to give meaning to their lives. Other cases are sincerely for medical treatment. Welcome Brave New World! Continuing: A Dantesque glimpse: Cut - in a Skinnerian experiment - the connection of a considerable part of the world population and in following day the suicides will have increased considerably, no? That sentence should be only a tragic joke but I wouldn't doubt it one bit. And there´s another Titanic aggravating: the issue of rampant Consumerism. As brainwashed or the only way to many people endure their existence... In the words of the great Brazilian geographer Milton Santos (I do not remember verbatim but the core of the statement is): ´the more overpowering fundamentalism today is consumerism!´ I agree entirely. Is a gradual dehumanization or are gigantic signs of vulnerability and weakness of the human being in the face of being human. Worse than that: are signs of bankruptcy/collapse of being in humans beings. Do not believe in those who said that this is irreversible (the whole panorama I described here) and said that who rebels against, is ´against the future´. It is a demagogic cyberidiocy. Errare humanum est, perseverare autem diabolicum. Because I can only envision the future as a projection of a man that goes deeper in himself, becomes more empathic, sensitive, perceptive, insightful, inventive, curious, politically and socially conscious and not manipulated, sustainable planetarily, …, finally: human indeed ... and not someone more like a machine. A perfect machine. Perfect even in its inhumanity. Perhaps the real perfection will take place when a robot, instead of owning human and humanoid characteristics, achieve maximum inhumanity, no? It seems to me that the inhumanity becomes a compliment - more and more. And the men increasingly becoming like a robot. Perhaps it is rather an unavoidable evolution. Will be? Still people performing numerous tasks at the same time humanly unable to actually engage in none of them. Everything becomes multiplied but ephemeral, a tangle of superficialities. There is a marked difference between human beings use robotic privileges for their own benefit and the benefit of all mankind and the same human being gradually transformed into a robot. It does not seem so strange that some men of influence (which occupy various areas of knowledge or global power - the latest statement that touches on this subject was made by Dalai Lama) cogitate that among several decades, the real robots will be able to try or kill or enslave men. I believe that no one else than the men themselves are contributing to make it happen inevitably. It would cease to be a science fiction to become the chronicle of an announced hecatomb. But who knows the planet will be better in robotic hands? I do not doubt. Should doubt? I do not think I'm being apocalyptic because much of what I say above is what I conclude as I watch the reality around me, around us. It's amazing how technology evolves but not the humanism. We are able to land a probe on a meteor but unable to be tolerant as our fellow men. And when I watch the discouraging news (since as white cops are incredibly acquitted of the murder of always black suspects until wide open new waves of anti-Semitism; from eternal maintenance of dictatorial figures... - some of them dreaming of the exhumation of old empires - ...figures in the power of their particular properties, or rather, countries ... until the imposing and crushing supremacy of economic policies in relation to undervalued human life and ad infinitum) from Europe, USA, Russia, Africa, Middle East, Far East, ..., and simultaneously I do not alienate myself from everything that happens on my street, my neighborhood, my city, my state, my country ... I remember the song of an old bard:´And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard - It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.´ Ya, the times they are a-changin ... again. It´s not anachronistic nostalgia - irony is, ladies and gentlemen. If I do not quoting Dylan, probably would opt for Messiaen and his Quatuor pour la fin du temps. And now? So Faulkner defined Albert: ´Camus said that the only true role of man, born in a absurd world, is to be aware of his life, his revolt, his freedom.´ I agree and does not fail to leave me stunned when Stephen Hawking recently stated that artificial intelligence can be a threat. Annihilating. If the A.I. is developed quickly and indiscriminately - unlike as with humans. In the past, Albert Einstein already said that no one knows when will be the third world war, but after - everything would be taken up with sticks and stones. He probably made a mistake. In a fully cybernetic future, will not be stones and sticks but computer chips. Making an analogy with the subject I am dealing here, hope we do not come to that. Anyway. It would be sardonic and laughable: computers, iPads and iPods and more and more smart smartphones and all the technological range (that´s coming because everything I have mentioned now will be garbage - maybe not so much recyclable - because, in fact, decisive and crucial technological advances, today, are beyond our imaginations) turning against his Flatterers as if they were a last Virus. The Exterminating Angel! Never the Buñuel´s metaphorical film made so much sense! Abruptly: Yes, I'm being sarcastically caricatural but if one day this happens, surely everyone will already be definitely (blind, dumb and) mainly d-e-a-f.

Some artists give an answer to that. For me, Otacílio Melgaço is one of them.

Proposals as ´Onze Arabescos para Diadorim´ do not forego the technology but the directions pointed are encouraging. The Melgacian soundscapes are an invitation to relearn that the artistic fruition is an act of existential rise (in its most wholesome sense, matured, transcendent).

If today everything tends to be as fast as possible, O.M. often features us the sound Pieces of long durations - because it is intended to entrench, to penetrate more and more on immanences. If today the relationships tend to be pragmatic in the extreme, O.M. floods us with meanders and, using an astrophysicist metaphor, wormholes. If today generally people are led to distance themselves from their inner worlds, O.M. makes us dive into the depths of our being (as did the most outstanding creators throughout art history). If social molds make the individual increasingly individualistic, O.M. relies on self-knowledge which is bridge to togethers. If an indiscriminate materialism supersedes noble predicates, O.M. suggests to us, by own example as an indefatigable cultural instigator, that the aesthetics and ethics go hand in hand. These parallels have no end. Better listen to his sonic seeds. I can assure you: the works of Melgaço are a watershed.

´Arabesque´ is a French word for Ornate Piece. What differs the Melgacian arabesques from others is that Otacílio puts an eccentric veil over these creations; he paradoxically hide his ornaments to be searched as a holy grail, in my opinion. Or if you prefer, as a lapis philosophorum/philosopher's stone.

´Onze Arabescos´ = ´Eleven Arabesques´.

Eleven elixirs. Eleven Antidotes. Eleven epiphanies. Eleven after-lights.” (Pablo S. Paz; Argentinean musicologist)

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I - Another notable arabesques

The most well-known are Claude Debussy's Deux Arabesques, composed in 1888 and 1891, respectively.

Composers who wrote arabesques include:

Robert Schumann: Arabeske in C, Op. 18
Jean Sibelius: Arabesque, Op. 76/9
Moritz Moszkowski: Opp. 15/2, 61, 95/4 and 96/5
Cécile Chaminade: Opp. 61 and 92
Edward MacDowell
Anton Arensky: Op. 67
Johann Friedrich Franz Burgmüller: Op. 100
Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky
Bohuslav Martinů: Seven Arabesques for cello and piano (1931).
Harold Budd: Arabesque 1, 2 & 3 (2005)
Louis Vierne: Arabesque, Op. 31;

II - Turkish music

Arabesque or Arabesk (Turkish: Arabesk) is a term created by Turkish musicologists for an Arabic style of music created in Turkey. The genre was particularly popular in Turkey in the decades from the 1960s through the 1990s. As with Arabic music itself, its aesthetics have evolved over the decades. Although melodies and rhythms are predominantly Byzantine and Arabic influenced, it also draws ideas from other aspects of Balkan and Middle Eastern music, including bağlama music and Ottoman forms of oriental music;

III - Milton Almeida dos Santos (1926 – 2001) was a Brazilian geographer who had a degree in law. He became known for pioneer works in various fields in geography, notably urban development in developing countries.

...for purposes of pragmatism and clear exegesis,
Wikipedia was the main source...

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Between two parentheses...
(Atonalism, Twelve-Tone, Serialism, Musique Concrète... Acousmatic. Eletroacoustic. Magnetic Tape. Expressionism, New Objectivity, Hyperrealism, Abstractionism, Neoclassicism, Neobarbarism, Futurism, Mythic Method. Electronic...Computer Music, Spectral, Polystylism, Neoromanticism, Minimalism and Post-Minimalism...are addressed by Melgaço. Paradoxically New Simplicity and New Complexity also.
Art Rock, Free Jazz, Ethnic Dialects, Street Sounds are occasional syntax elements.
All the possibilities mentioned above and others that were not mentioned are the usual accoutrements of the composer/instrumentalist to establish his ´babelic´ glossary. We can prove this in a short passage of a single composition up along the entirety of a conceptual phonograph album. All distributed over a career and idiosyncratic records. Have we a universe before us and I propose to see it through a telescope, not a microscope.
I propose not handle very specialized topics here. Otherwise would be, with the exception of musicians and scholars, all hostages of a hermetic jargon. Because more important is to present Otacílio Melgaço to the general public and not to a segment of specialists. Faction of experts not need presentations, depart for the enjoyment beforehand. For this reason there is no niche here for intellectual onanism and encrypted musical terminology. The reason for these parentheses is to establish such elucidation. The non-adoption of technicalities leads to more panoramic, amplifier reviews. Are You always welcome. Those who do not dominate contemporary music and are introduced to the world of ubiquitous O.M. [autodidact and independent artist who, being more specific, does not belong to schools or doctrines; artist who makes Music and that´s enough; music devoid of labels or stylistic, chronological, historical paradigms or trends] and Those who belong to the métier and turn to enjoy propositions they know and also delving into advanced Melgacian sound cosmogonies...
I conclude poetically. ´Certeza/Certainty´ by Octavio Paz. ´Si es real la luz blanca De esta lámpara, real La mano que escribe, ¿son reales
Los ojos que miran lo escrito? De una palabra a la otra Lo que digo se desvanece. Yo sé que estoy vivo Entre dos paréntesis.´ If it is real the white light from this lamp, real the writing hand, are they real, the eyes looking at what I write? From one word to the other what I say vanishes. I know that I am alive between two parentheses.
We´re all more and more a-l-i-v-e now.)
- P.S.P.