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Sahba Aminikia & Pınar Demiral: Nasrin's Dream
Kronos Quartet

Sahba Aminikia & Pınar Demiral: Nasrin's Dream

  • Apr 20, 2016
  • 2 min read

My most recent piece, The Wind Will Blow Us Away, for String Quartet which was commissioned by my friend and long-time collaborator, Hannah Nicholas was premiered at The New Tropic, Miami, Fl as part of O, Miami Poetry Festival on April 4th. The piece was performed again at The New World Symphony on April 10th by Hannah Nicholas, Julia Yang, Maya Cohon and Rebecca Reale. The visuals for this piece were original and designed by Syrian NY-based artist, Kevork Mourad. The piece more of a descriptive piece of music which is based on the poetry of Forough Farrokhzad, arguably one of Iran's most influential female poets of the 20th century, a controversial modernist poet and an iconoclast who died tragically in the late 60's. The poetry is recited by the performers and embedded inside the piece.

Text:

Inside my little night, alas,

the wind has a rendezvous with the leaves;

inside my little night, there is fear

and dread of desolation.

Listen.

Hear the darkness blow like wind?

I watch this prosperity through alien eyes.

I am addicted to my despair.

Listen.

Hear the darkness blow?

This minute,

inside this night,

something’s coming to pass.

The moon

is troubled and red; cloud

are a procession of mourners waiting

to release tears upon this rooftop,

this rooftop about to crumble, to give way.

A moment,

then,

nothing.

Beyond this window, the night quivers, and the earth once again halts its spin.

From beyond this wind, the eyes

of the unknown are on you and me.

May you be green, head to toe,

put your hands like a fevered memory in mine...

these hands that love you.

And cede your lips

like a life-warmed feeling

to the caress of my lovesick lips.

The wind will one day blow us away.

The wind will blow us away.

Farrukhzād, Furūgh. "The Wind Will Blow Us Away." Sin: Selected Poems of Forugh Farrokhzad. Trans. Sholeh Wolpé. 1st ed. Fayetteville: U of Arkansas, 2007. 34-35. Print.

 
 
 

By DAVID MERMELSTEIN 2/8/16, 7:24 PM


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The Kronos Quartet is so often on the road that even its fans forget the group is based here. So it occurred to its members—David Harrington and John Sherba, violins; Hank Dutt, viola; and Sunny Yang, cello—that an annual festival dedicated to the unusual repertory Kronos inspires and champions might strengthen the ties between this forward-looking ensemble and its home. And so the group presented a series of concerts from Feb. 4 through 7 largely devoted to emerging composers at SFJazz Center, one of this city’s most appealing new venues. Like Kronos’s tribute to the composer Terry Riley last year, also at SFJazz, these programs, under the banner “Explorer Series,” typically featured a bevy of guest artists and unusual instruments, to say nothing of the atmospheric “backing tracks” intrinsic to the scores the group favors. Premieres of various stripes (U.S., West Coast, San Francisco) dominated, but only the concerts on Thursday and Friday included international debuts. More important, two-thirds of the works on Feb. 4 were composed by women; half on Feb. 5. Thursday’s concert opened with the premiere of Franghiz Ali-Zadeh’s “Reqs (Dance),” in which the rhythms of the Azerbaijani composer’s homeland sounded like music that might accompany a German Expressionist film or be played by a Gypsy band. Another premiere, Reena Esmail’s hypnotic arrangement of N. Rajam’s “Dadra in Raga Bhairavi,” successfully mimicked Hindustani music by having Ms. Yang (Kronos’s newest member and sole female) slap the body of her cello to imitate a tabla. Mariana Sadovska’s 20-minute “Chernobyl.The Harvest” couldn’t be anything but mournful. But it suffered by immediately following an arrangement of Severiano Briseño’s “Man From Sinaloa,” with 27 instrumentalists from a local arts high school augmenting Kronos to form what sounded like a huge mariachi band. The Ukrainian- born Ms. Sadovska also contributed her talents as a performer, singing in a strong but

wounded voice and playing the harmonium to produce organ-like sonorities. Powerful

as this effect-filled “pagan requiem” was, it felt overwrought and overlong.

Friday’s program began with Nicole Lizée’s gimmicky but engaging “Golden Age of the

Radiophonic Workshop [Fibre- Optic Flowers],” in which each member of Kronos did

double-duty on another “instrument”: Mr. Harrington on smartphone; Ms. Yang

manipulating the electronic game Simon; Mr. Sherba tapping a manual typewriter (take

that, Leroy Anderson!); and Mr. Dutt moving the stylus on a phonograph. Yet Aleksandra

Vrebalov’s “Bubbles” topped it for innovation, with Kronos joined by the vibraphonist

Andy Meyerson and 30 members of the outstanding San Francisco Girls Chorus,

conducted by Valérie Sainte-Agathe. Never have buzzing lips, piercing whoops, and

giggling been so beguiling, and when these singers drew out “I Love You,” it was

impossible not to be moved. (The text appended a John Cage quotation to Robert

Creeley’s short poem “The Language.”)

The chorus remained for the Tehran-born Sahba Aminikia’s “Sound, Only Sound

Remains,” an ingenious and arresting concoction of live and recorded music that makes

impressive political as well as aesthetic points. The Swedish composer Karin

Rehnqvist’s “All Those Strings!” required just one guest artist, the Finnish kantele

virtuoso Ritva Koistinen, and she enchanted, plucking her zither-like instrument to

sound like a harpsichord at one point and a guitar at another.

Albert Behar’s five-movement “Lost Wax,” receiving its premiere, reached back in time,

assimilating Bartók’s field recordings of Hungarian peasants, captured on wax cylinders,

with new music for string quartet, variously evoking Debussy and Ravel, Bartók, and

Stravinsky through pizzicatos, harmonics and the bow-tapping technique called col

legno. A suite of tunes by Rahul Dev Burman largely written for Indian films concluded

the evening on an aptly exotic and upbeat note.

Mr. Mermelstein writes for the Journal on classical music and film.


 
 
 

By Jesse Hamlin

Published 10:25 am PST, Wednesday, February 3, 2016


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San Francisco composer Sahba Aminikia never heard a woman sing in public, on radio or television while growing up in Tehran in the 1980s. They were banned from doing so by Iran’s ruling mullahs after the 1979 Islamic Revolution. The clerics think the solo female voice can trigger lust, says Aminikia. But he wanted to hear and share the singing of Iranian women, who can only perform in private homes, for all-female audiences or, since the reforms of the 1990s, in a background chorus.

“Now you can see women onstage in Iran, but never as the main performer,” says the 34-year-old composer.


 
 
 
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Visuals: Avideh Saadatpajouh

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