Monday, March 2, 2015

Angela Sheik Rocks the Queen

This post appears courtesy of IN Wilmington's blog - view the original post here...

By Guest Blogger, Ken Grant

Ken Grant has worked in Delaware media, politics, and marketing for 25 years. He and his Lovely Bride enjoy Wilmington's arts and culture scene as much as they can.

If the only thing Angela Sheik had to offer was her vocal range, it would be worth going to her show.

If the only thing Angela Sheik had to offer was her quirky-yet-profound songwriting style, it would be enough to draw an audience.

But, when you add in the talent of playing multiple instruments, both performing and engineering magical soundscapes while engaging the audience with fun asides and deep revelations, then you find words like “genius” and “brilliant” woefully inadequate to describe the talent of Angela Sheik...

Sheik started her concert Saturday evening at World Cafe Live at the Queen without introduction, fanfare, or words. While the overflowing crowd was caught up in conversation, Sheik made adjustments to her instruments and microphones, then started tapping her microphone in rhythm, laying down the first track of what was soon to become a multi-layered musical piece that silenced the crowd as they realized an alchemist was on stage adding ingredients to a formula that transformed seemingly simple sounds into auditory gold.

The last time Sheik played material from her latest project before a Wilmington crowd, she did so with the help of more than a dozen other musicians. This time she was trying to produce the same sounds solo – playing all of the instruments and feeding them through her loop machine, then adding her rich vocals.

The question is, how many instruments does Angela Sheik use in a performance like this? And the answer depends on your definition of instrument. Keyboard, accordion, xylophone, flute, auto harp, triangle, theremin – yes, those count. But what about the tapping on the microphone that sounds like a bass drum? What about the loop machine? Is that an instrument? What about when all of the music is fed through the theremin? Does it become a different instrument? And what about the point where Sheik instructs the audience to get out their smart phones, go to AngelSheik.com, scroll down the right column and click on the red box that says “play along” so they can pick a track to play while she sings “Evening Calls”? Does each phone count as an instrument?

Sheik's music explores a variety of themes, from love and loss to the struggle with ego – all in a way that forces the listener to engage as more of a participant rather than passively listening. Sheik takes the audience to new and different places throughout her show – and the audience seems to enjoy every turn and discovery.

Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Sinkane Brings A Distinctive Music Experience to Arden

By Guest Blogger, Alex del Tufo
Alex is a high school student attending Wilmington Friends School with an interest in journalism as a major. She is an editor for her school newspaper, has served as an intern at
Out and About magazine and has written for WXPN’s website. Alex hopes to expand her love of music and writing through helping with our blog.



Delaware’s local venue, The Arden Gild Hall, was honored to have Sinkane grace the stage on Friday, February 13. Sinkane is the stage name for Sudan native, Ahmed Gallab. He was accompanied by two backup guitarists and a drummer. The quartet’s individual skills accented one another perfectly. Sinkane’s unique musical style was introduced by Brooklyn band, Cookies. Their electronic style worked well with the electronic aspect of Sinkane, but Cookies’ female vocals and more pop sound contrasted in an interesting way.

I think that one of the most interesting parts of Arden Concert Gild performances is the variety. This was especially the case for Sinkane; I saw audience members ranging from teenagers to elders, all enjoying the music together. If you have never been to Arden’s Gild Hall, it is essentially an open room with a stage. For this performance, the room was about one-third chairs and the rest was open for dancing and roaming. I thought that this gave the show a laidback feel but let the audience appreciate the music more. Specifically, a few especially excited dancers enjoyed themselves in the back of the room.

Describing Sinkane’s musical genre is a near impossible task. I can say with ease that I have never heard anyone that has the same style or skillset as him and his band. According to wikipedia he is categorized as “krautrock, free jazz, and funk rock with Sudanese pop.” To tear that apart a little, krautrock is a style of rock with a more electronic sound. Although Gallab grew up in Sudan, he was born in London. This could explain his reasoning for the aspect of krautrock in his music, which has European roots. Free jazz is essentially a more unconventional style of jazz that fits well with the other genres of his music. The most complex part of his music style would have to be the Sudanese pop. This clearly was influenced by his Sudanese heritage. Sudanese pop is a blend of traditional Sudanese music -- violin, bongo, etc. -- combined with influences from American pop stars.

I thought that Sinkane’s distinct sound was not to be missed and their music combined with the atmosphere of the Gild Hall made for a perfect winter night. Sinkane and Cookies truly set high expectations for future performers soon to come to the Hall. I don’t think that Sinkane was for everyone just because of his “out-there” style, but I believe that anyone who is open to new music should really give him a listen. Spending my Valentine’s Eve with Sinkane was an excellent decision and, as an Ardenite, I hope to see him and the band return in the future.

See www.ardenconcerts.com

Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Visual Interpretations of Oscar Wilde's Salome at Delaware Art Museum


Salomé, 2011, Barry Moser
Oscar Wilde had quite a reputation as a provocateur in late 19th Century Victorian England -- and it's that reputation, as well as his wit and his sexuality, that people commonly remember today, even moreso than his work.

In the early 1890s, shortly after the publication of his famous (and only) novel "The Picture of Dorian Grey," Wilde became a success as a playwright. The one-act play  "Salomé" was written in French after a conversation about the Biblical story of John the Baptist inspired him. Wilde, of course, was Irish, and he usually wrote in English. He chose the language because of his love of France -- the country he would retire to after he served jail time for “gross indecency with other men” just a few years later.

“Salomé” is short and brutal, centering around a beautiful young woman living with the stigma of her mother's accused incestuous marriage to get stepfather, Herod II. When John (referred to as C) insults her mother and spurns her, she exacts her revenge: When Herod offers her anything she wants if she dances for him, she chooses Jokanaan’s head on a platter. Literally.

Salomé Kisses the Head of Iokanaan, 2011, Barry Moser

The Dancer's Reward, 1906, Aubrey Vincent Beardsley 
Salome was first published in English in 1894, translated by by Wilde's lover, Lord Alfred Douglas, and with illustrations by Aubrey Beardsley. The translation was more flowery than Wilde's style, the illustrations, compared to “the scribbles a precocious schoolboy” by Wilde himself, are sometimes over the top. In 2011, Salome was re-translated by Joseph Donohue, in a style that most agree more closely fits with the way Wilde originally wrote it in French. The illustrations for this version are by Barry Moser; the etchings, in contrast with Beardsley’s style, have an almost photo-realistic look.


The cistern, 2011, Barry Moser
The exhibit starts with Moser's work. This seemed backward to me at first, but as I went through the room, it made sense. Moser's illustrations, placed in chronological order tell the story in images. By the time you get to the last one, you have his idea of what Salomé was really about (the captions on the wall help if you’re not familiar with Wilde’s version of the story). Moser sets a dark mood, featuring a diverse cast of Romans, Nubians, Jews, and Nazarenes. The etchings convey the feel of a stage play, or at least the feeling that real people are being portrayed.
"Let me kiss your mouth," 2011, Barry Moser

“Let me kiss your mouth” shows Jokanaan, the object of Salomé’s desire, despite his almost emaciated appearance, refusing her advances. Wilde plays with sexual objectification — Salomé is seen on both sides of it, and she commands the power position at all times, at least in her own mind. After Moser’s interpretation comes Beardsley’s. The two collections couldn’t be less alike, but, while Moser’s etchings are stunning, Beardsley’s are not inferior — just wildly different.


The Stomach Dance, 1906, Aubrey Vincent Beardsley 
Beardsley’s illustrations have a look that more closely resembles political cartoons, and he was pretty clearly making some statements of his own that weren’t actually in Wilde’s work -- for example, there is homoerotic imagery where there was none on “Salomé,” and Wilde is caricatured more than once (and not in a flattering way). In a couple of instances, Beardsley’s original submissions were rejected for being too bizarre, sexual, or off the map; the Rejected and Accepted versions are displayed together.
The Peacock Skirt, 1906, Aubrey Vincent Beardsley 

Despite Wilde’s criticism’s of Beardsley’s work, the lithographs are quite beautiful and captivating. “The Peacock Skirt” look as if it could be a high fashion illustration, but it does highlight the almost detached interpretation, as it doesn’t directly refer to anything in the play. As an exhibit as a whole, “Salomé” bridges over a century, showcasing a great difference in aesthetic. Some might argue that the Donohue/Moser update righted the wrongs of the 1894 Douglas/Beardsley collaboration -- and there’s little doubt that the update more accurately captures Wilde’s words as they were intended. But to be able to look back on the 1894 artwork in conjunction with Moser’s enhances the timeliness of Beardsley’s work. It was both a reflection of and a rebellion against its time, which is something that can’t be truly captured in the 21st Century.


See www.delart.org