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just a quick plug - sydney opera house’s PIANO DAY stream tomorrow / next day (Patreon)

Published:
2022-03-28 09:52:26
Imported:
2023-03

Content


hello loves.


it’s been a very rough week for many reasons, but i have you, and you are feeding my soul.

i am catching up on comments - and catching up on everything, and i’m sorry it’s slow.


i have a lot to say and write about, from tiktok and the conversation that boiled up around “surface pressure”….to what is happening here in new zealand….to what it means when we all witness assault and abuse on a huge american stage and it all just feels fucking awful.

but right now i am tired, have been traveling all day and am about to travel more, and want to offer up something soothing and peaceful, because, i mean….war, confusion, violence, pandemic, exhaustion, rage, people all over the place going apeshit on one another and the volume on 11 across the board….

let’s take a breath and listen to some calming music, shall we??

i was honored that the sydney opera house folks invited me to take part in this year’s Piano Day - an annual worldwide event founded by nils frahm. it always takes place on the 88th day of the year (acknowledging the number of keys on the instrument, unless you’re one of those shitty 44 key casios).

for my bit, i recorded a new version of “the ride” from my latest album “there will be no intermisson” with a beautiful team of local kiwi filmmakers (hugh!!) and engineers (steven!!) on the stunning house steinway at roundhead studios, here in auckland.

you know the joint.

the song has grown since i played it every night on tour. i’m sure many of you have seen me play it.

“the ride” has taken on more meaning than i ever could have imagined.

i couldn’t get through the end of this take without crying. even if you’ve seen me play this one before … it feels raw and new. the recording is stunning. i’m different. and so the song is different, too.

other artists include andrea lam, zubin kanga, ian munro and vatche jambazian.



you can tune into the FREE online broadcast on Sydney Opera House’s platform, “stream” - Tues 29 Mar 7:30pm AEDT. here’s the link….

https://stream.sydneyoperahouse.com/videos/piano-day-2022

i hope to see some of you there.

off to bed.


more soon.

it’s a lot right now.

more than i can hold. but i’m holding.

i love you.


xx

a


Files

Comments

Dorit

So beautiful, Amanda. Thank you. The ride keeps evolving and never ceases to move me.

Anonymous

Very beautiful and sad. "The Ride" keeps growing and changing as so much pain and trauma continue to be heaped on the powerless while the powerful revel in their cruelty.

Anonymous

So nice. :) Oh, shoot. I meant to post this earlier in case you haven't seen it yet: https://youtu.be/bbjgY4FNBME

Anonymous

I do actually picture you sitting and singing beside me whenever things seem absurd ... your voice whisper-sings "It's just a ride" in my head :) Thank you for the gift of that song.

Pedro B. Gorman

Hello There, Amanda, & My Thousands of Siblings! Most of you know me as the Pedro B. Gorman-happy-dappy crowdcast enthusiast, and at best, I guess I am. I decided tonight, of all nights, to write here more because Patreon call & response threads can be clunky. I also decided to write here because, though I am temporarily in paradise, I am sad, but also deeply moved I wanted to post a photo diary of the past couple of days in a paradise called Sesimbra, 40 minutes away from Lisbon, where I brought my mother, Isabel, who is 81 years old and, though she has no life threatening illness as of yet, she is terrified of dying, and knows she is on a possible last stretch—at least in the sense that she has lived many more years than she has left. I also brought my mother here because she needed to escape the flat where she lives with my older sister. Despite the fact that my sister, due to her own mental health issues (chronic dysthymia and complete anedhonia) is my mother’s prime carer, both mother and daughter have such an awful relationship as to be redolent of Bette Davis and Joan Crawford in “Whatever Happened to Baby Jane,” except the are not sisters, as in the film. But the dynamic between them is the same. I also brought my mother here because she hadn’t been to this “neck of the woods” in more than 50 years, in her early thirties; before that, she had come here with her parents as a child. A magical thing happened today (and I am sorry I cannot post the illustrative photos/videos, as format issues and clunky file transfer glitches wont allow it, I will have to describe it. I awoke at dawn, and was so deeply over by the seafront “infinity” view from the breakfast table that, while my mother still slept, I quietly packed and descended to the beach, enchanted by the flocks of gulls I extensively photographed. My mother’s osteoporosis would never have allowed her to descend all the fifty five steps to the beach with me anyway, and it would have been too windy and cold for her even if she had. When I returned from half-bathing in freezing Atlantic waters, starting a poem, and taking scores of photographs, she was awake. I had brought her goodies like cakes, and pastries she loves, and was showing her the photos with such enthusiasm, that I was taken aback (but soon fully understood) when she burst into convulsive tears. Her father (my maternal grandad, who died a terrible slow cancer death when I was eight—I am 45 now), and whom she adored, had an equal passion for nature photography, but also for poetry and literature (and I am a budding writer, as yet unpublished). Her torrent of tears was brought on by some tone in my voice, and some goin in my eyes as I was showing her the photos that took her back to the time when her own father would show her photographs he had developed himself. She confessed that until that moment, she has never realized how much of her own father I had in me. A few minutes after her emotional outburst, we were visited by a gull on our window sill who stayed, studying us intently, and whom we fed some crumbs and shrimp to. Because she was already so shaken by buried memories which came flooding forth, and became so overwhelmed she had to swallow a Xanax, I allowed her to enjoy the gull’s visitation as simply that. But there was something about the way the gull was looking at me, and at her. I felt it was my grandfather’s spirit. Later, during lunch, she revealed something to me I did not yet formally know: that every man—including my father—she ever had a relationship with treated her violently; beating her, or cheating on her, or making her the “other woman” in their own flawed but still ongoing marriages; and that the only two men she ever felt loved and respected by and treated gently by were both her father, and by me. I am writing late into the night to share this with you because, since we have sent every waking moment together the past two days, I haven’t yet had a chance to tell any of my friends, I needed to get this off my chest. As some of you may know, I you’ve ever watched me and Amanda speak on crowdcast, that here 2019 show in Portugal, Braga, occurred shortly after my father’s death who—though a philandering husband, was, at least, to me, a loving father and friend. I could go on writing now for another three hours here, in an emotional spew—about how horribly women are treated by men—and here is my point—especially strong, intelligent, anti-establishment, anti-patriarchy women such as my mother once was…but I want to rise at dawn again and go down to the beach to finish processing everything I learned today. If these days any of you Sibling Patrons consider me a kind, loving soul, it was largely owing to my mother’s love for me over the years—the values she instilled in me. ---- The above piece was written on Saturday 25th March. On Tuesday, shortly before leaving our Air B'n'B, I read this post, and sensed your sadness, Amanda. I briefed my mother on ho unkind the Tik-Tok world had been to you, and also the internet world. And, herself a single mother in the 60's (to my older sister), where divorced women in Portugal where considered "sluts from hell," she wanted to join me in this message of Love to you, Amanda, especially as a single mother and a woman much harangued by the Patriarchy. And she also wanted to say hello to all of you who have kept me going since 2019. I also sensed all of you Sibling Patron's sadness, anger and frustration at the way strong, independent, anti-patriarchy women the world over suffer. So, here is a gift of love from my mother and I. I recorded a short video with her, especially for y'all, and, Amanda, of course, for you too. My mother knows well what being mistreated is, and through me, she has come to know and love your work, and takes much solace in the comfort I derive from this here community, so she wanted to say hello after I had told her what had been going on with y'all. Here we are, wishing you all Love. https://youtu.be/9PNf7nwNJCg Much Love, Isabel Gorman & Pedro B. Gorman

Anonymous

thank you and hugs to you ❤️

Anna McCotter

We’re all holding. xxxxx

Jonah Poirot

I love you, steadfast traveller. I wish you gentle journey

Len Tower Jr.
>>80851885

Pedro: Amanda could be done, reading comments on this blog. If you really like her to see this, post it very early on the next one. Rock love, Len

Pedro B. Gorman

Thank you, my dear Len! I suspected as much. Which, in a way is good, because i'm making a mini film with the gull footage, and our video at the end. Love Unbound, Pedro B. Gorman

Lauren Carnall

That's so lovely. I enjoy nihls music and know so little about him, this is a joy of a fact to learn. Hope those who saw this enjoyed!

Kim Harris

I think others have said it better but you are enough. Let tiktok go - it is not your job to bend to a shape that every last human will agree with.

Anonymous

Loved this version so much!