THE TONY OXLEY ALAN DAVIE DUO
The Alan Davie Music Workshop ADMV 005
Price: 15.60 €
Purchase Order No.: 005
  Warenkorb
Tony Oxley percussion, violin,ring modulator, compressor, octave splitter
Alan Davie piano, cello, sopranino saxophone, bass clarinet, vibraphone, xylophone, ring modulator, trombone
   
   
01.
Song for the little dog
05:32
02.
Cavern of the snail for cello and cymbals
06:42
03.
Adventures with a magic ring
04:35
04.
Fruit flambé
05:28
05.
Song for the serpent
05:24
06.
On the seashore (bonus track)
04:21
07.
Fragment from a suite ´Country music´
03:29
08.
Fish fascinator
06:25
09.
´Bird trap´ for violin and cello
03:37
10.
High Tide Mark (bonus track)
04:56
 
Total time:  51:08

Tracks 1, 4, 5 and 10 recorded live by SM International Zurich on June 6, 1974 during a concert at Gimpel Hanover Galerie Zürich
Track 2 recorded on September 5, 1974 in Cornwall
Track 3 recorded on January 16, 1974 in Hertford
Track 6 recorded on September 4, 1974 in Cornwall
Tracks 7, 8, 9 recorded on March 5, 1975 in Hertford
Tracks 2, 3, 6, 7, 8 recorded by Alan Davie on a Tandberg 6000X with Six AKG D 202 Microphones and Vortexion Mixer

Dubbing and master cutting by John Hassell, London
First released on Vinyl in 1975
Re-released on CD on February 14, 2003 (including two additional tracks)

All tracks remastered in December 2002 by Hrólfur Vagnsson (Tonstudio Vagnsson), Hamburg

Cover painting: ´Squeeze the rainbow´, Alan Davie, July 1961, oil on paper, 16 ½ x 21 inches*
Liner notes: Alan Davie, Tony Oxley
Producer: Helma Schleif
Booklet design: Klaus Untiet (wppt:kommunikation)

* reproduced from the catalogue Alan Davie, ed. by Alan Bowness, Lund Humphries, London 1967 (1st edition)

© a/l/l 005

 
Release date: February 14, 2003
 

A truly sensational re-discovery of an original recording of the 70´s and a milestone in the history of Improvised Music created by the worldwide renowned painter, poet and master musician Alan Davie and master musician (and painter) Tony Oxley. For further informations on Alan Davie and Tony Oxley see MUSICIANS.


Excerpt from the booklet
The making of this music resulted from regular meetings with Alan and myself at Hertford and Cornwall in the 70´s. The language we had individually developed became the object of fierce scrutiny in collaboration.
The pieces represent in their own place what might be considered as paintings themselves each piece being directed by limiting the area of activity required.

Tony Oxley (2003)


Alan Davie: I confess
The child born in Scotland in 1920 shared with all children the intense visionary powers, fears, fantasies and terrors of true knowing which is really of the animals and therefore nearer to God than man. The child longed for some unknown adventure; yet his very shyness kept him to himself and his dreams.

The discovery of colours: red yellow mixing orange fire and the sun mixing chalks and grinding sandstones on a rock a revelation to the little one. Then the mud and sand and seeds and seashells pebbles leaves and twigs all arranged in jamjars; and then the making of dreamboats and birdships.

But perhaps most was the sounds: the clicking and clashing the bone clappering the stick and saucepan drum and soon the magic of the grass whistle in the meadow with the crickets creak and the bees buzz and soon the penny flute and soon the harmonica and soon the fascination of the ting tang ivory and ebony hammer joys on the piano strings and soon the dreams of guitars and mandolins harps ocarinas oboes clarinets organs violins piccolo horn trumpet trombone saxophone double-bass alto tenor and musical saw. What a magical manipulation of noise vibration buzz bell and wave with tongue lips fingers feet body and soul.

Not till later did I discover the magic of colour and brush. Father, being a painter, gave me one day some paints and a canvas, and I was able to approach the temple doors of this unknown dreamworld. Then I didn´t know the way, or was shy, or no one thought of showing me; so I contented myself sitting there outside, and fell in love with the world of Van Gogh and Gauguin.

At the College of Art in Edinburgh they did their best to teach me that I couldn´t paint and that painting was difficult; but somehow I knew better in spite of them, intuitively knowing that painting is neither difficult nor easy. There I learned to hate Art and to love the potters workshops and the goldsmiths craft, and there discovered the ceramics of Islam and the jewellery of Byzantium. There also I felt the drift to the discovery of jazz; manufacturing a key for a forbidden concert piano and playing quiet boogie-woogie with a foot on the soft pedal.

Then the war was a kind of a curious unreal thing; a kind of imprisonment and the prisoner´s discovery of his innermost freedom together with the soul-freedom of the sky and the flowers of the free forest. Under my army bed I discovered a dusty book of poems, and very soon became a poet, and found The Way at last, and wrote and wrote long into the night by candlelight. Then too, I found the love of women and trembling flesh and sweet lips.

The war over, I became a professional jazz musician, and really knew the joys of spontaneous improvisation, the losing of the ME, and the active audience participation, the fire of the heart and the belly, and the marvellous abandon.

I married me a wife, and we went away together, and we found the mountains and the snows together, and the Italian sunshine, and the marvellous mosaics and the gold and the white and the pink and the bottlegreen sea. Then I really began to paint in the way I had learned to write and to play jazz and in the way I had learned to make love: and I learned that All is in me and I in All; and I discovered that I really am a child for evermore, and an animal still, thank God; just like them: my parrot my canary my poodles my dachshund my cats my budgerigars; they really know: and my little blonde baby daughter knows too.
All the talking and lecturing and teaching and philosophising and writing mean absolutely nothing.
I discovered that I could be a bird (I had always longed to be able to soar like the seagulls) and now I can fly amongst my clouds, and swoop and climb and circle in my big white sailplane.
How much more important than Art, just to be a bird.

Alan Davie (first printed in the catalogue ´Visione Colore´, Palazzo Grassi, Venice, July-October 1963)



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