Bartolomé Ferrando

By Jessica Karuhanga

Sound performance with newspaper
Sound performance with little objects

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Bartolomé Ferrando, Sound performance with little objects 7a*11d 2016 PHOTO Henry Chan

Bartolomé Ferrando tells us he is is going to perform four pieces. He needs our help for the first piece. He hands out tissues to the audience. Whenever he repeats a gesture we blew our noises emphatically into our personal tissues. The audience is his orchestra. He says in a commanding tone, “More strength!” This is the moment where the second piece begins. He opens found news print and responds to each leaf with his body.

Trump. Trump. Trump. Trump. Trump. mp mp mp. more more more more moore moorre morre morre. Ch Chi Chi China China na na na na. Op Op Op Opin Opinion Opinion Opinion. Ontario Ontari Ontari Ontario.

Sounds feel familiar and my friend seated beside me trying to bring it back to form, to translate it’s poetics, to grasp it – asks what language? I respond – I feel it is nothing.

He whispers whispers carefully
caressing the leaves of newsprint as though
conjuring the contents and visuals inside
emitting
slowly
he caresses
into a fold
into a crinkle
faster still
with
incidental sweeps
swiftly
leaves fall.

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Bartolomé Ferrando, Sound performance with little objects 7a*11d 2016 PHOTO Henry Chan
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Bartolomé Ferrando, Sound performance with newspaper 7a*11d 2016 PHOTO Henry Chan

There is an applause. The third act begins. Ferrando presents a tiny silver cup. He squeals gibberish. B b b b b b blu bla bl bl bl. A fuchsia string unravels. He continues to make trumpet noises until his face is flush red and mirroring the rose of the string. The string is carefully shoved back inside the cup. He puts these contents in the pockets of his jacket. There is an applause. The fourth enactment begins. He picks up two transparent bowls.These bowls are goggles. He utters sounds into them. He drinks this energy. He pushes the bowls to the edge of the podium. He cries as if this matter were alive, desperate, human and on the brink of some end. We clap.

 

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