Nicole Mitchell/Elizabeth Marino
Sonic Projections
Vision Festival 19, Roulette, Brooklyn 14 June 2014
It is as if somebody’s moving
Heavy furniture into a tiny apartment. The acoustic piano breaks in:
Put. That. There.
* *
A tuft of red against thick brown wool tweed. That touch of sound.
The chaos roars back.
Her rough lyrical intervention matches
Growl for growl.
The quartet’s leader sways in flip flops.
Urging, prodding, coxing, and stomping out a sound.
Lifting it high above her head.
* *
That rough lyricism again.
Good dark chocolate
Laced with red peppers.
Meadow Sunlight in the Swinging Field
We think of a soprano flute
As something light -- BUTTERFLIES Lighter than air
And its flutist – under the sun
Rarely a first chair – BUTTERFLIES.
But keep in the back of your mind BUTTERFLIES
See B R E A T H = L I F E.
Nicole contracts – under her sun
And releases her breath to fly,
hold and reach every ensemble member
and they she reaches, reaches.
Whether the “idiomatic logic that goes on” in her
or Joni’s head allows her students to follow -- BUTTERFLIES
But never simply imitate her – sun down.
Or is she a teacher who allows her listeners to sing
or urges her students to fly on their own
There is that pedestrian art – and BUTTERFLIES
And those aires that limn the marvelous sun.
Indigi Trio – Nicole Mitchell Solo Flute
Grass hopper in black leathers sings
In the dead of night.
Take this sound and push it to the end
Of my fancy. Far into the waking day
Jumping till no piercers find a place
To name land.
Grass hopper in black leathers sings
In the dead of night.
Here here here I am.
Come catch me.