Madrid (Spain) based composer and guitarist
Anthony Ocaña
I caught up with Anthony during my last trip to Spain, and we talked at length about his new vocal chamber ensemble piece setting of Ferlinghetti's "DOG", which will be premiered on June 12th of 2012 at 8 PM at Saint Peter's Church (Manhattan) by New Music New York. The piece is scored for two female singers, violin, guitar, percussion and narrator with megaphone. Instructions for the piece indicate that it is to be semi staged: the violinist is a derelict and is to wear pajamas; the guitar player has his case open to take donations, as if he is playing in the subway and the two female singers are two hip chicks from town...
Tell us a little bit about your idea with "DOG", what's the concept?
DOG
is a composition inspired on a poem by Lawrence Ferlinghetti, it's a
funny poem that deals with serious topics; there is this dog walking
through the streets of a big city, who contemplates the human-social
environment that surrounds him.
From
that global concept of the poem, I decided to write a piece that
contained the beauty of city rush with the sense of this dog walking
freely through it. When the heavy pulse of the city is interrupted, a
narrator starts to recite the poem, as if he was some philosopher
contemplating his environment on the tranquil waters of a sleeping city
or as if he was the "DOG". There is a theatrical element in the music;
it does not culminates in sound, and it asks the musicians to get
involved as actors in the process of delivering to the audience the
spirit of a big city and its rush, and the spirit of "DOG".
Why this poem?
I
came home one night late after a party, and I opened my email and read
that I needed to decide which poem I would use for this concert ASAP. I
opened an anthology on Beat generation poets that I had on my hands and
it coincidentally opened on the poem "DOG". In those days I was
discovering the music of a composer that I highly admire, Moondog. I
read the entire poem and fell in love with it; and it was then and there
that I knew what music I was going to write for it, and I knew it was
going to be my secret homage to Moondog...as you can tell I'm not good
at keeping secrets.
What was your compositional process with this piece?
I
dressed like a dog and started walking around Madrid, where I live, in
order to incarnate the poem and convert it into music..actually that's a
lie... I just love cities and have always lived in cities such as Ne
York, so I'm familiar with how they feel and smell. As I said before, as
I was reading the poem for the first time, I knew what music I was
going to write, so I sat in front of my computer with guitar in hand and
started materializing what was in my head. I knew I wanted the poem to
be narrated, the poem itself is so musical that it needs to be heard as
the author wrote it.
What are you up to these days?
I'm
touring with the Anthony Ocaña Trío (violin, cello and guitar) and
writing music for the group; we recently published an EP and we will be
publishing three more EP's based on my compositions for the trío in the
course of 2012-2013. I'm also performing solo guitar concerts, composing
music for a film and music for different performers such as the
wonderful Uruguayan pianist Humberto Quagliata.
Composer and guitarist personal voice is influenced by classical, contemporary, jazz, minimal, pop, Caribbean and Latin American idions. Born in Dominican Republic (“D.R.”) and became a Spanish citizen on 2007, currently residing in Madrid. Ocaña has recorded five albums: “A Paso de Cebra” with Sebastian Lerner (2001), “Anthony Ocaña” (2006), “Solo” (2008), “Wet Fields” (2010) and “Placeres” (2012).
...a real live
barking
democratic dog
engaged in real
free enterprise
with something to say
about ontology
something to say
about reality
and how to see it
and how to hear it
with his head cocked sideways
at streetcorners
as if he is just about to have
his picture taken
for Victor Records
listening for
His Master's Voice
and looking
like a living questionmark
into the
great gramophone
of puzzling existence
with its wondrous hollow horn
which always seems
just about to spout forth
some Victorious answer
to everything
excerpted from "DOG", in the poem collection, "A Coney Island of the Mind" by Lawrence Ferlinghetti
