SPARKS 21

Ron and Russell Mael, a.k.a. Sparks, had a luminous (or should I say: ludicrous) idea for the promotion of their 21rst album. One day, not to long ago, the bold and the beautiful stopped in their tracks, looked at each other and exclaimed: why don't we play the 20 first ones as an introduction to our coming of age album? One album a night plus one encore? There must have been a short trembling of air in their Pentagon before a grin and a smile moved the curtains and an unisono "Yes" escaped their mouths. Normal people would have bombed the idea the next morning, but not the duo known for wit, exuberance and propaganda. They formed a backing band, started to rehearse their 240-and-some-more-songs, and booked the London Carling Academy for twenty nights. Tickets could be bought from one to twenty-one shows, the latter being the Golden Ticket to Sparks Paradise. A bargain, for L 350.
Yes, 240 songs had to be learned, adding up to 4.825.623 notes (please check this for yourself, we may have missed one of two), arranging ends to songs that faded out on the albums along the way. An effort on a both artistically and commercially unparalleled level, a historic feat that won't fail rock historians to notice and put in their books. This is stuff the Guinness Book of Records is made of!

And so the Nice Guys kicked of the extravaganza on Friday May 16, playing their 1972 Halfnelson album in front of a crowd of devotee's, coming from all over the place: Vancouver, San Francisco, Hollywood, Long Beach, New York, Australia, Hawaii, Sweden, Moscow, Germany, France, Holland, Great-Britain, and wherever else they've been hiding over the last thirty-something years.

And did they have fun! Where Russell had to learn most of his songs by heart, finally, the fans produced them effortlessly, singing the words they dreamed so many dreams, before he could even spit them out himself. Clapping the claps, churning the "Ooh's" and "Aah's" on every big beat, only dumpfounded by endings they only knew as fade-outs on the albums.

They already stepped up the ante the second night, when the Golden Boys disguised a woofer in tweeter's clothing. More people had arrived, the whole congregation indiscreetly sang along when R&R marched in the Girl from Germany.

Kimono my house, the third night, was sold out!

This celebration will continue on an almost daily basis, culminating in the happy delivery of #21. Because, as Mr. Young will remember, it's better to burn out than to fade away.

Will this town, 36 six years later, on June 13, be big enough for these exotic creatures of the deep?

TRANEN MET TUITEN

'Wanneer heb je voor het laatst gehuild?' vroeg vriendin J. die haar onlangs bij Frans Bromet geleerde interviewtechniek in de praktijk wilde brengen. Nu, daar had ik snel een antwoord op: 'Aan het slot van de voorstelling Peter Pan was hier van jeugdtheatergroep Max. Ik zag die voorstelling in de Krakeling tijdens een schoolvoorstelling. Ze was zo inventief gemaakt en werd zo hartverwarmend gespeeld, dat de zes tot achtjarigen het uitkraaiden van plezier. Bovendien was Jef van Gestel een overrompelende Peter en Suzanne Boogaerdt een hartverwarmende Wendy, terwijl Tinkelbel tot ieders verrassing door de lucht kon vliegen. Ik raakte door de voorstelling en de onbevangen reacties van de kinderen zo ontroerd, dat ik tegen het einde als een kind zat te janken.'
Zo mooi kan theater zijn en zo kweek je het publiek van de toekomst.

FEELING ARRANGER

Though the concerts happened already three months ago: I am still under the influence of the electricity Neil Young charged upon me with his enigmatic way of guitar playing in the Amsterdam RAI, last (I won’t be back till) February (comes). Yes, I have assisted many shows in the past, both in the U.S. and in Europe (I was even on stage in Oakland when CSN&Y, amongst others, played in front of 60 thousand), but I cannot remember being charged in the way I feel now.
Why is this?
Let me offer three explanations: 1. the room was relatively small, it barely held 2000; 2. I saw three shows in a row, so the charge of the first night was doubled by that of the second, et cetera; 3. Because of the proportions of the room, the electricity fields Mr. Soul worked up from his old black guitar were literally overpowering; they ricocheted from every wall, the ceiling included, invading each and every listener, to finally charge the inner sanctum of his or her soul.
I use the words ‘charge’ and ‘electricity’ not by accident: more than before, and thanks to the proximity of the artist, one could observe that Young is not your most agile electric guitar player (beware: he is a master of the acoustic guitar). During a visit to his ranch, he explained to me one sunny morning, sitting on a chopped tree, that it wasn’t his trade to find out what to play, but what notes to leave out.
Well, Neil the Electrician is a man in a mine field. By touching his strings, the positions on his axe, he is manipulating volts (in the fields of electricity it’s ploughing time again…), provoking explosions, intensifying and relaxing electric fields. One of the crew informed me that Neil knows exactly the volt levels that are current in a room. He feels it when they change from, let’s say, 220 to 223! And he adapts.
So, to bring this to a conclusion: the loner is a feeling arranger. Neil Young is pitching a high voice together with a high voltage, and the receiver becomes ecstatic.
Intriguing of course, how this piece of electronic art was off-set with Neil’s personal assistant Eric presenting naive paintings announcing the songs. According to Elliot Roberts, these paintings were offered on Internet, with profits going to the Bridge School. The paintings were made while Young delivered his fine goods, he himself clad in a black suit with patches of paint smeared all over it. The metaphor isn’t hard to discern: Young, who likes all kinds of shops (cars, trains), was on this occasion toying around in his paint shop. While Eric painted his ‘masterpieces’, Young was smearing his touches of electricity over the audience. Working up his musical masterpieces, using voice and guitars as his brushes.
Funny then, he didn’t include ‘The Painter’ in his repertoire. When he came down the second night in his painter's suit, I said to him: "I think you're ready for 'The Painter' now." Surprisingly enough, the answer was quick and short: "I don't think so."

TRANEN

Met enige regelmaat krijg ik de vraag: 'Jij ziet en hoort zo ontzettend veel, kun je mij adviseren waar ik heen moet gaan?'

Dat kan ik in de meeste gevallen wel, maar in hoeverre is mijn waardering jouw waardering? Kan mijn enthousiasme jouw belangstelling wekken?

Ik bevind me in een uitzonderingspositie. Doordat ik veel zie, ben ik ook uitermate kieskeurig. Niet snel vind ik iets zo goed dat ik er mijn vrienden naartoe durf te sturen - theaterhaters zijn er al genoeg. Dat betekent niet dat ik al het andere niet de moeite waard vind. Er valt altijd wel iets te ontdekken: een bijzondere rol, een nieuw talent, een interessante regiebenadering.

Enfin, bij deze opening geef ik twee tips door: 1. Nietzsche's Tranen door De Tijd (bijna overal uitverkocht) - opnieuw het wonder van theater: uit het niets ontstaat in anderhalf uur een fascinerende wereld die je nog dagen in de greep houdt; 2. Naar Damascus door Toneelgroep Amsterdam - bizar stuk, fabelachtig gespeeld door het ensemble onder aanvoering van Jacob Derwig en Karina Smulders.