Chicagojazzen - “Jag Trivs Sämst I Öppna Landskap” “Jag Trivs Sämst I Öppna Landskap”

By Rick Weaver · September 23, 2014

At first, the coin is flipped. Chicagojazzen plays the heel to Ulf’s anthem. Chicagojazzen, like Eva Garbor, chooses metropolis, the meddler’s paradise: a version that is softly blighted: a city, simplified and censored, from the pen of a playwright. We see lurking; we see a light rain that will not stop. The water, when standing, is tall enough to splash onto suits when struck.

From below a puddle built from sewer flow, the bolometer is aimed up at the cell site guarding the high-rise. The twins on the twenty-fifth floor flap their curtains. When the curtain is closed, their lamp is not visible. When the curtain is open, the lamp, shaded by green glass, shines through the window. Their intermittent flapping causes erratic flashes through streaks and night. From below the puddle, where passers-by glance down to see dancing and unidentified forms, to the twenty-fifth floor office, a connection is made. A conglomerate of bright blinkers, interspersed, part the mudbanks of the sewer’s murk. The circumference widens; sinkholes of light form.

The entrance into Chicagojazzen’s TV movie afterlife sequence is heralded with drum crashes and bright brass; their cheerful and celebratory power undermines the cool crime jazz scene of the first half. The final portion is clean-cut, at one with its environment, at home, with its feet up. The dog delivers the paper.

• Chicagojazzen: http://c-h-i-c-a-g-o-j-a-z-z-e-n.blogspot.com
• oma333: http://oma333.com