Guide Musik und Medien - Filmmusik (German Edition)

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Commercial performance

The transparency of this moving projection screen generates a polyphony of simultaneous perspectives: double images with vibrant feedback elements between camera and projection and room-filling reflections of the slats, suggestive of Northern Lights. A video tutorial by the American locksmith Ron Reed serves as the conceptual starting point of the first collaboration between composer-performers Leo Hofmann and Andi Otto. In his instructions on how to pick a lock, Reed is less concerned with the mastery of technique than with a live dialogue between hardware and intuition.

Hofmann and Otto apply his idea of a lock as a black box that must be sensitively cracked to their musical interfaces: for years, both have been using gestural controllers of their own making in developing individual interpretation practices for their electronic music. Music by Andi Otto. The Flinnworks collectiv went to Dhaka to sew T-shirts, they inhaled fuzz, and navigated their way through strikes and cocktail bombs, tracing the people who make our clothes.

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Why would you rather earn 30 than 50 dollars a month, Naila? Do you see the naked woman on the T-shirt you are sewing, Shilpi? What does it mean to work in a compliance factory, Mumtaz? Songs of the T-shirt is a theatrical wandering through the global textile industry, between emancipation and exploitation, market and intimacy, Bengali mourning songs and upcycling fashion.

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Interviews will be reenacted, and consumption options played with, while clothes are continuously changed, following the question of whether it is morally wrong or necessary to buy a T-shirt 'Made in Bangladesh'. Andi Otto applies vocoder technology to the sewing machines on stage and the machines "sing" whenever they are operated. Artists of the Flinnworks collective have travelled to Lagos Nigeria to research about various implications of power, as in electrity, blackout, state power, or the power of storytelling in Nigerian movies. Nigeria is one of the five top oil exporters in the world, yet the state can't provide sufficient electricity for the population.

Imagine what would happen if all of Germany was hit by a seven day power cut. You can't? Well there is an institute that researches such issues, and what they find is a modern dystopia. It is introduced in the play as one of the unregistered patents by the 19th century inventor Nicola Tesla. Download the programme notes German only. Since I've worked as a freelance composer for theatre and dance productions.

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I find working in teams to be a great counterpart to my activities as a studio composer and solo performer. Working creatively through the process of artists from other disciplines delivers results which are often surprising and different from the outcome of a musicians only process. It's a performance about the paradoxical professional lives of Indian female performers in the Indian entertainment industry. Through interviews and workshops with students of the IIM Bangalore, the Flinnworks collective researched the everyday life and ideational world of this young Indian elite.

This material was then transformed into a performance, the result being a fragmentary yet factual and informative kaleidoscope, hovering between documentary and fiction, creating theatre that is entertaining, tragic, and visionary. This piece is about he sensorial memory of the body, how it transmits to our dreams and how these dreamt movemnet can be visualized.

Victoria Hauke and Chris Lechner have developed a choreography in the water. They explore the sensory body on land and in the water, the liquid qualities of the inside and outside of the movements.

Rakkautta ja muita katastrofeja () - Soundtracks - IMDb

Andi Otto performs live on synthesizers in a 4 channel sound environment. The second part of that performance took place in a lake in Hamburg Stadtparksee with eight performers in the water and Jan Drees on the music. Premiered in at Kampnagel, Hamburg. More info and videos on Victoria Hauke's site. Music by Andi Otto, feat. Berlin was the whorehouse of Europe.

War widows, or their children, would do anything for a mark, even as a mark came to be worth practically nothing four trillion to a dollar at one point in Gastronomy too, as one could eat the goose afterward. Apocryphal, one hopes, but such was the rep. In some respects, the notion of decadence was as integral as decadence itself. A commodified, self-conscious version of the real thing existed even then. The Nazis closed the clubs, hounded and exterminated the homosexuals, and, in the end, brought ruin on the city.

Bombed and desolate, traumatized by street fighting, starvation, and mass rape, and ultimately carved up, Berlin, after the war, barely heaved back to life. There was very little industry, turnover, or travel in or out. No corporation could take the political risk or tolerate the barriers to commerce. In such hothouse isolation, a small but fervid club scene took root. In , the founders of a small record label, Interfisch, started throwing illegal all-night parties in their office.

The space, in a Kreuzberg basement reached via ladder, had six-foot ceilings. It took on the name UFO. The year before, Dimitri Hegemann, one of the founders, had travelled to Chicago to arrange a licensing deal with another label. While there, he had idly browsed through its so-called white labels—rough demos, not ready for sale—and picked out something strange. It was techno from Detroit. Hegemann, a Westphalian, who had moved to Berlin in , was a musicologist, a producer of British electronic music, a fan of American punk especially the Dead Kennedys , and the founder of an experimental electronic-music festival called Berlin Atonal, but he had never heard music quite like this.

He brought a stack of Detroit techno records back to Berlin. The genres for which Berlin is best known, house and, especially, techno, are mostly, as manifested there, noncommercial, rigorous, esoteric, and both experimental and orthodox. The utility, in this case, is mostly that of providing succor and pleasure, a sense of direction and purpose, to addled bodies and minds. The most characteristic subgenre, which peaked in popularity about a decade ago and has been explored to the edges of tolerability ever since, is minimal techno, a spare distillation that people have sometimes likened to the knocking of spoons on pots but which others parse as though it were Brahms.

Techno is repetitive, relying on subtle changes over time to intrigue the ear.

It eschews lyrics, melody, and, arguably, harmonics. Say it again. The pleasure comes in repetition, in sly referents, and in the nature of the sound—the depth and texture of the low frequencies or, in the case of acid house, the squelchy bass of the Roland TB synthesizer. House, which originated in the gay dance clubs of Chicago and less so New York in the eighties, often features a snare on the two and the four. Purists object when you call this music E. Shortened to E. The nomenclature is convoluted. To the dabbler, it can seem that there are more genres than there are differences between them.

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Techno emerged in the early to mid-eighties in and around Detroit, at the hands of black middle-class d. Techno was also developing on its own in West Germany, in the underground clubs of Frankfurt, as a logical extension of the early electronic music of Kraftwerk and of the rhythms and sounds to be mined from the records of synthpop acts like Depeche Mode. Juan Atkins, one of the godfathers of Detroit techno, says he lifted the term from the futurist Alvin Toffler, but it may have been in use in Europe before anyone in Detroit took it up, in record stores, as a designation for synthpop or for the sound that would come to be called electro.

The debate goes on. The techno that would flourish in Berlin was the Detroit strand that Hegemann brought back. As the pent-up underground energy of the West spilled into the empty wastes of the East, Hegemann and his partners, amid the rush to colonize derelict spaces, discovered a hidden depository in a Mitte basement beneath a former Wertheim department store near what had been the Wall.

It had been vacant since They set up in the vault and called it Tresor. The space was symbolic of reconciliation: straddling East and West, packed with reunified Berliners—skinheads and soccer hooligans from the East in frenzied harmony with the gays and the hippies. The soundtrack was techno.

In Detroit, techno had hardly left a mark, but in Berlin the music, and the Detroit d. In some respects, techno—and its variants and relatives—represents a kind of post-Cold War folk music, endlessly adaptable, performable by anyone.

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Techno was all about anonymity. The artist became part of the public. Security is light, rules are lax. Generally, there is no bottle service, no V.


In this respect, they bear little resemblance to, say, Studio 54, which, glorious as it may have been, begat a stratified style that metastasized into the models-and-bankers Maybach-and-Cristal rat race that deflected a generation away from the clubbing life in the U. Low-density neighborhoods make for lenient noise enforcement and therefore endless nights and powerful subwoofers; a liberal civic spirit means no blue laws or last calls. Actually, you can do pretty much anything on the street except jaywalk. Wednesday has always been a big night in Berlin, especially for resident d. Someone had told me to go to Farbfernseher, a small club in an old television store under the S-Bahn tracks on Skalitzer Strasse.

What bars I passed were all but empty. On my last visit to Berlin, in the spring of , just after the Wall fell, a friend and I had driven from southern Poland, expecting a kind of punk paradise. Instead, we found a desolate sprawling half city with no center and no discernible scene. Here I was in Berlin again, a generation later, still wondering where Berlin was. Farbfernseher was a shuttered storefront on the ground floor of a graffitied apartment house with building sites on either side.

I got there early, at around midnight, and claimed a spot along the wall by the bar, overlooking a small dance floor.