film+gig ~review~

 

Film screening series inauguration at Espai Motel. The entrance is so small and un-neoned I miss it the first time and bike around cursing for a good 10 minutes. When I'm at a point of examining every door and checking whether there's some secret entrance, I realize there's an opening in the seemingly plain white wall, and rows of chairs inside. There's only three people there, and a bunch of leaflets, but none relating to this film cycle or the show going on tonight. If I didn't get a tip about this happening through friends of a friend, there's no way in hell I could have found out about it by chance. Half past eight there's ten people, including me and the people who work here. The place has a vibe of a everyone-knows-each-other hangout. They're selling beer at the tiny bar, and possibly crisps, but someone could have just brought these along. As an alien, solitary viewer, I sit and scribble waiting for the movie. One whole wall is a blackboard, and there's coloured chalk on the side. Animal Collective is playing and there's a two-headed dinosaur figure on the woodenbox-table next to me. First two rows are old, big, red leather armchairs. A reddish light is on, and people are sitting on the floor at the very front. A beer bottle falls off a ladder and smashes on the floor. The projector has to be taped to cast an even image on the wall. Only with its light illuminating the ceiling, I notice it is covered in massive egg containers.

La ciénaga (The Swamp) by Lucrecia Martel is the first of four films in the series Mujeres tras la cámara (Women behind the camera). Sergio Morera, one of the people behind the cineclub, says he chose this movie because he liked it, and because it was very straightforward, but also powerful in its simplicity. Introducing the movie he points out its incredible sensitivity to sound, and indeed, the film is filled with sounds in a way that brings to mind Lisbon Story - I kept imagining how massive their sound recording device had to be, possibly the biggest presence on set. The dialogue is hyperrealistic, and a bit hard to understand even for native Peninsular Spanish speakers - the film is set in Argentina, and follows a story of a family in a confusing succession of images and conversations. Women are present onscreen almost throughout the entire movie, as the family revolves mainly around them. There's not really a reference to any time, political event, or anything that would help to place the story, which renders it even more unreal, or perhaps magically real, set in a mythical village right outside your big city. The most pervasive presence, however, is that of water - and for the most part, dirty water, like in a swamp. All kinds of water sounds are also beautifully recorded, so it's just as interesting to listen as it is to watch, and discover the sonic differences between torrential rain, dirty swimming pool, wine poured in a glass, a running shower, tap, etc. The film had an international release, so it's probably not impossible to find, and you can see the trailer here. It was good.

 

The real deal though comes after the screening - Your Kid Sister and the Wolfgang Orchestra play a set of all their four songs, and repeat one for the encore. They're two girls wearing animal ears/hats (and for one song, also sunglasses) who, playing only accordion and xylophone, manage to sound like a captivating cross between CocoRosie, Regina Spektor, and Beirut. The songs are beautiful, and perfectly rehearsed - and all that increases my utter, utter surprise and disbelief when I find out, talking to them after the show, that they are exchange students in Barcelona, and only played one show before. Maia Vidal, aka Your Kid Sister, recorded the four songs last summer in Montreal, and was then asked to play a gig at an experimental music festival in France, so asked her friend Risa to learn xylophone (which she did in two weeks) and join her as the Wolfgang Orchestra. Disappointed with the study abroad program at University of Barcelona (something I empathize with very much), or, as Maia puts it, being spoiled by art school in Montreal, the two decided to relegate classes to secondary importance and get as many gigs as possible before Risa goes home after the end of this semester. Talk about a great, great way of spending a year (or semester) abroad! I wonder how many exchange/Erasmus students can say they spent their time abroad developing a new musical project, finding venues, and playing gigs! (Not to mention how many people record slick EPs over summer on their computers.) I was so impressed and overwhelmed by their songs + niceness and friendliness + rendered speechless by the fact that it was all so fresh and unestablished yet sounded super smooth and tight that I entirely forgot to ask what Maia's influences were, and why she called herself Your Kid Sister. The unprofessional non-journalist that I am, I didn't check her MySpace prior to the gig: an answer of sorts to both these questions lies right there: The character that was created is a (duh) younger sister who, having found your Rancid records, dragged them into her room and learned to sing along. As you can tell, she never understood that Punk was a movement, a state of mind, or that she was doing it all wrong (...) she literally expected the wolves to come after listening to the Rancid album "And out come the wolves". So Your Kid Sister's Poison is Rancid's Poison reworked as a heartbreaking accordion tune, and the album "I waited but the wolves never came" is both an homage to my favorite punk band of all time and an indulgence into sweet, quilted, experience of childhood and melody (...) It's conceptual! It's kitsch! It's satire! Yay! Punk - you're doing it so wrong it's fantastically right. Please check Your Kid Sister out: www.myspace.com/yourkidsister; she is bound to outgrow her older siblings. (Plus she gave me a hug.)