Where would you set it all up? Claire Rousay needs a lot of gear, for what is a percussionist to do without a bunch of stuff to make sound with? Especially the “solo percussionist,” doomed to roam the earth with bags upon bags and crates upon crates of ephemera to lug to shows and bang around on. Now, I’m not saying Claire has some kind of Neil Peart setup or whatever, but you have to admit it would be kind of cool if they did. Neil Peart knows what’s up. *wink*
Maybe I got thrown off with the whole solo percussionist thing, because I assumed there’d be a lot of to-do. (And seriously, have you seen what Neil Peart plays?) But Rousay works in miniature – they don’t bang around a massive set or even a rock set, they just work with a minimal, albeit unusual, kit. And Rousay, instead of conventional rhythmic structures, intentionally eschews them for a more abstract experience. Rousay’s percussion is the physicality of everyday life. Closing your eyes and allowing the sound to overpower you will put you in familiar situations with uncommon results.
But there’s a jazz mind at work in Rousay’s skull, and you can’t help but superimpose Several Erasures (Already Dead) over some kind of lost quartet in your mind. Let’s splatter some skronk all over this.
Hmm… there it is.
But let’s take this as it is, and allow the motions and the movements to translate themselves within our everyday outlook into something more and weirder. Then let’s “bamboozle ourselves” into assigning importance to the minutiae. Because in the end, what is it all except for tiny little movements, sometimes in recognizable format, other times in pattern-resistant dysfunction? What do you think Neil Peart would say to that? WWNPD?
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