The PFOH that celebrated the Winter Solstice

Last Wednesday 20 December Il Bisbigliatore held a Pataphysical Freak-Out Happening dedicated to the Winter Solstice. The event has been kindly hosted by the Rockodile, a pub and wine-bar in via delle Tre Cannelle 9 in Rome, Italy. The Rockodile is quite nice and perfectly equipped from the audio point of view.

Music for the event has been selected and mixed by Stefano Carbutti, Fulvio Savagnone e Aldo Semunuk (the latter two are dj podcaster of Radio Rock TO). There was the exhibition of the strong, matter-made and highly fauve paintings of Alberto Antonucci and of Stefano Carbutti’s pictures of suburban landscapes, plus selected video and all the rest.

There should have been a reading of poetry and prose with Michele de Vitis, but a sudden flu caught his one-year old child so Michele couldn’t be with us. Best wishes for a prompt recovery!

Below I’ve put some photos of the evening. You cannot hear the music, but rest assured of its high quality: we went from psychedelic rock of the ‘60 to German cosmic rock of the ‘70, from the ‘80 dark forth to the contemporary avant-garde.

Aldo Semenuk. The bat seems to rest on his shoulder with the greatest ease.

Myself proposing the darkest music, contrary to my usual style…

Alberto Antonucci (the green checkered shirt distinguishes the contemporary artist) turns his back to his portrait of Gregory Corso, painted in occasion of the event that celebrated the poet’s death.

Stefano Carbutti (il Bisbigliatore himself) entertains the audience.

Another work of Alberto.

The evening was closed by the Bisbigliatore himself at the console.

Pataphysical Freak-Out Happening – Winter Solstice

On Wednesday 20 December 2006 Il Bisbigliatore will organise a Pataphysical Freak-Out Happening dedicated to the Winter Solstice, @ the Rockodile, a pub and wine-bar in via delle Tre Cannelle 9, right in the centre of Rome.

The event will consist of poetry and prose readings with Michele de Vitis, music selected and mixed by Stefano Carbutti and yours truly (and maybe by some other podcaster of Radio Rock TO…), improvised painting with Alberto Antonucci, video projections and all the rest.

Winter solstice is a very strong symbol in the whole ancient world, from Celts to Scandinavians, from Germans to Romans. Celebrated under many names (Yuletide in the north of the world, Saturnalia among the Romans) it has been swallowed up by Christians, that have put their celebration for Jesus’ birth on top of it.

Be it as it may, the shortest day of the year is therefore also a symbol of rebirth: we have reached the bottom, it will still be cold for a couple of months, but the sun will shine a little longer every day that passes… Such will be our theme. Music, as in every PFOH, will be rather on the psychedelic side…

Come, all ye of good will!!!

UPDATE
Aldo Semenuk, dj podcaster of Radio Rock TO as myself, will be part of the event with his musical selections

Where is Go going?

I started to play go in the early eighties, giving up chess in the meanwhile: the more I played go, the more it looked to me as if chess was becoming too cramped, almost claustrophobic.

There were two aspects of go that I loved most (and still do): first, its subtlety, its deepness and its stress on flexibility and on keeping open the largest number of options as much and as long as possible.
It really fascinates me how professionals use so-called “probes” in order to force their opponent to choose a strategy, making him consequently lose some degrees of freedom, so to speak.

In the eighties, if I remember correctly, very few professionals played long, complicated and drawn-out joseki: Cho Chikun once said that he didn’t like them because they simplified the game too much, taking away subtlety. Kobayashi Koichi was criticised very often by his fellow professionals (especially Takemiya Masaki…) for settling the shape as much as he could.

Second, I really enjoy the great role played by intuition and “feeling” (something that I couldn’t find in chess). I’m not saying that brute force reading and calculation are not important, especially so when you go from the fights in the chuban (middle game) to the score calculation in the yose (endgame), but in fuseki (the opening) and early chuban, intuition has wide scope for action: no fuseki is (or at least used to be) like another one. Not so in chess.
Not for nothing my heroes are Shuko, Otake and Takemiya!

Yes, one should define “intuition”, and it is certainly true that intuition and feeling can be seen as skills that one acquires with experience, playing and studying literally thousands of games.

Mind you, I am a sort of post-hippie, my generation is the one that looked toward India and the “Orient” at large to find something that we couldn’t find in our western, rational mind. So it is quite obvious that I would cherish these aspects of the game of go, maybe missing or misunderstanding some others.

Then I stopped playing for ten years, and when I resumed playing some years ago, what kind of situation did I find?

In the East, the arrival of strong, very strong Korean and Chinese players: this is really great, as otherwise the game could have ended up as something for a few pros and for a bunch of aged people in Japan… But this meant also, as I perceive it, the affirmation of a very aggressive style right from the beginning, and the appearance of almost established fuseki sequences where long, complicated, drawn-out joseki are instrumentally played in order to settle the shape quickly and go directly to a sort of oyose (large endgame) stage, where it is easier to calculate the value of each move.
Is go evolving towards chess? What happened to subtlety and flexibility?

In the West, there are a number of attempts to formalise the game using game theory and other mathematical and logic tools. One of the reasons for this is of course the possibility to arrive at writing a software that would be able to play at a reasonable level, but we have seen few results so far. Luckily, I say.
I think the real reason for this is the very western passion for rational and formal thinking, for putting everything in the right box identified with its proper label.
It almost looks as if people are trying to find the perfect move in the fuseki by applying some suitable theorem instead of relying on experience and “feeling”, as described above.
Is the western, rational mind taking over? What happened to intuition?
Are there professionals who use such approach?

Another aspect that seems weird to me is the hugely large discussion going on on how to devise a perfect and logically coherent set of rules and definitions for the game, able to take into account even the remotest and weirdest of the possibilities. (Ah, Gödel, where art thou?)

It seems to me that all that mathematical, logical and theoretical arguing on rules would scare any beginner (not to mention myself), making him/her believe that without a PhD in mathematics you cannot play go: not a good advertisement indeed! I have always taught go saying that it has 5 rules that you can learn in 15 seconds…

I’m not saying that those approaches to the game have no validity (and after all I’m still short of becoming shodan and shouldn’t talk much…).
Koreans and Chinese players seem to win more international tournaments than the Japanese do.
Intellectual formalisation is surely fun for those who practise it.
But I have the sensation that such approaches somehow diminish and simplify the game, an attitude that is only natural when one is afraid of empty spaces (agoraphobia) and wants to grasp a sure way around…

I, of course, have no answers, and perhaps I just like to grope in wild darkness…
But I promise: while still liking better to develop the left side of my brain, I will practise reading and counting as well, otherwise I’m afraid I’ll never reach shodan…

77 Million Paintings

Brian Eno has just released a DVD by the title of 77 Million Paintings. It is the first release of a large-scope project: in Eno’s own words, it is “Two things in one – it’s firstly a software engine that allows things to be configured and shuffled, and secondly it’s a stack of images that I have made that are then manipulated by that engine”.

In this first release there are 300 images, scanned at high resolution from Eno’s paintings, that the software fades randomly in succession, layering four of them at the same time. The visual effect is stunning: colours, drawings, modified pictures and images that slowly morph one into the other, all this on top of a beautiful soundtrack obviously produced by Eno himself. The artist states that the projection of the result of such manipulation is something between TV, painting and cinema. Personally I would think it is something far beyond…

77 million is the number of all the possible combinations: the software allows the morphing speed to be changed, but such number is so large that even at the fastest speed it would take 9000 years to visualise them all…

This piece of art is already very much enjoyable – one could spend hours being lulled by sounds and lights (veeeery psychedelich… ) but the next steps of the project would foresee the distribution of the morphing software, which would allow users to manipulate their own images.

But the nicest thing is that buying the DVD allows you the free use for non-commercial purposes of Eno’s compound images, as long as the artist and the title of the work are given credit. In practice the copyright is on the DVD and on the single images. Eno is on the path of saintliness…
Below is the copyright note of 77 Million Paintings:

COPYRIGHT© 2006 All Saints Records / Wordsalad, under license to Rykodisc.
All rights reserved.
Please do not copy this software.
However, you are welcome to use the compound images 77 Million Paintings generates for any non-commercial purposes you wish BUT PLEASE CREDIT THE ARTIST AND 77 MILLION PAINTINGS.
All compound images © Brian Eno

Scottish vernissages and Sushi

I haven’t recently posted much. I’ve been busy recording podcasts for Radio Rock To, your trustworthy PodRadio and helping DJ Peedie, aka my beloved Blondini, aka Emily Little, for her forthcoming vernissages in two important Scottish Art Galleries, the Broughton Gallery and the Smithy Gallery.

When we will be back I’ll tell you about art galleries in the Scottish Autumn…

Meanwhile, to keep you entertained, I am posting a hilarious movie on how to eat sushi, the Japanese way…

And now fetch the Whisperer…

Finally the blog of Il Bisbigliatore, the micro publishing house very underground of whose staff I’ve been part of for some years, is on and running.

Il Bisbigliatore has already published a book of poetry that has sold more than 400 copies so far (go and ask the big publishing houses how many copies they sell for a poetry book…), another one is about to be published, we have organised many events & happenings with great success of both critic and public – one of them, very important, in memory of Gregory Corso.
We haven’t uploaded yet all the content we want to upload, but you can already get an idea. Meanwhile, you can find below our statement of intentions…

“Il Bisbigliatore (the Whisperer) appears in a 1969 novel of William S. Burroughs (“The Last Words of Dutch Schultz”).
…
Il Bisbigliatore is a mutant organism in which artists and ideas converge: an underground dream in the nobler meaning of the word, built from scratch with the contribution of those who cannot help but rebel to the loss of value of the individual.

Experimenting around the territories of communication through the production of works of different nature and the organisation of events, happenings and exhibitions in which such works are presented, Il Bisbigliatore aims principally at stimulating the individual thinking and the confrontation with what is imposed to him/her, with the hoped-for result of widening the cultural, emotional and intellectual horizon, for all those involved.

A whisper in favour of mankind, this time“

Stay tuned, we will very soon propose new events & happenings, then we will post some excerpts of prose and poetry from our authors. In short, we won’t twiddle our thumbs…

P.S.
The blog is in Italian, but if you want something translated, just ask me.
While I’m at it, the title of this post is the English translation of the Italian translation of W.S. Burroughs, as we have only the Italian edition of “The Last Words of Dutch Schultz”. If any of you could help with the original wording, we would be really grateful…

One Big Damn Puzzler

Imagine a small, remote, exotic and sweetly primitive island.

There live a whole bunch of good-natured islanders – some of them have somehow lost a limb or two. Among the characters, an old one-legged sorcerer, called Managua, that is trying to translate Shakespeare’s Hamlet into the local pidgin English in order to stage it for his fellow islanders; some suspicious-looking “girls” who get their flashy bras and shoes from a mysterious white Miss; another powerful sorcerer, some angry wives and some beautiful girls.

The islanders have of course many taboos (for instance only men can eat a hallucinogenic sweet and get in contact with their dead relatives, or shit all together while exchanging amiable conversation in a social setting, on a beach that is subsequently washed at high tide…) but sex, or death, are not one of them. And magic seems still to work effectively.

There arrives a young American with an agenda, full of good intentions and affected by a somehow bearable form of OCD (obsessive-compulsive disorder).
His arrival starts a snowball series of events that, for better or worse, will change the life of everybody…

This is a terribly incomplete description of “One Big Damn Puzzler”, by John Harding (Black Swan, 2006).

The tale of how the islanders lose their innocence is full of inventiveness and packed with carefully intertwined episodes; drama, comedy and grotesque are perfectly mixed together: you laugh a lot, and, when it is time, you get moved to tears.
You can even read the best rendition of an attack of jealousy I’ve ever found in a book – it perfectly matched my own experiences in the field…

And in the end Harding masterly manages to bring together all the lines he has thrown out: everything goes at its place, everything gets its proper conclusion.
You do not see this very often accomplished, and it is the sign of great authorship.

This is really one of the best book I’ve read in the last few years. Warmly recommended.

P.S.
The title is nothing less than Managua’s translation of one of the most famous verses of the Great Bard:
“Is be, or is be not, is be one big damn puzzler…”

iPod turns five, many happy returns!

Exactly five years ago Steve Jobs launched the iPod.

Lot of skepticism in the beginning (who on Earth would buy a 400$ mp3 player with a hard disk??!?) and then the huge, gigantic success that’s under everybody’s eyes.

Why? Music, of course.
But, beyond that, is it necessary? Certainly not.
Is it beautiful? Certainly yes.
It puts together a zen aesthetics and a zen simplicity.

But remember, Beauty is very often absolutely “unnecessary” from the business profit-productiveness point of view, and yet we crave it, and enjoy it.
And sometimes, after all, it can be turned into profit, as Apple very well know…

I have seen the movie on Go Seigen

Beware, you may find some spoilers ahead…

Last Sunday I went to see the movie on Go Seigen. In fact almost the whole go club of Rome was there.

It was the première at the Rome Film Festival, section Cinema 2006 (i.e. the official concourse), so the director, Tian Zhuang Zhuang, one of the most important contemporary Chinese directors, and the protagonist, Chen Chang (also in Kar Wai Wong’s 2046 and Ang Lee’s Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon), were there to say a few words of circumstance before the show.
Really few… all the director said was that go is such a difficult game that the movie doesn’t intend to explain it. Nothing more, not a single word on the movie itself. A little strange, if you ask me.

Being a go player, it is a bit difficult for me to give a non-biased evaluation of the movie. The game of go is certainly represented in all its beautiful aesthetic and, if you like, mystic.
The dedication and devotion of go players toward their art is shown very well – just consider how well the WWII times are depicted, when players were playing in military uniforms, not expecting to return alive to continue the tournament, or the scene when they resumed the game after the atomic blast in Hiroshima had thrown the playing room in total chaos (which is historical, see this article on the atomic bomb game).

Maybe the most charming go scenes are those where Kitani Minoru, Go Seigen best friend and rival, and his go dojo are sweetly described.
The dojo was unique: Kitani and his wife trained in time some 60 pupils, hosting them in their house and treating them as their own children. All the players that dominated the go scene in the ’70, ’80 and ’90 came out from the Kitani Dojo.

Strangely one aspect of Go Seigen life is not openly portrayed: in 1947 he was made to leave the Nihon Ki-in, the professional association – this was probably due to his strong involvement with that suspect religious sect. This is the reason why he didn’t took part for some years to professional tournaments but instead played a lot of newspapers-sponsored jubango (a ten-games one-to-one challenge) against all the strongest players, defeating them all.

Finally, the last scene is just perfect: 1984, to celebrate his retirement from active play an old Go Seigen plays his last game as a ceremony in a beautifully formal setting. After the beginning rituals, his opponent carefully picks a black stone from the bowl, and slowly plays THE move, placing his stone on Tengen, the centre point of the Goban.
For non-go players, read this to understand the meaning of such a move as a homage to Go Seigen’s whole career.

Having said so, the movie itself sort of disappointed me. Go Seigen’s life has been full of events, including a world war, so history, plot and adventure are all there. Visually the movie has all the magnificent beauty that Oriental directors have accustomed us to.

Still, something is missing, IMHO.
It is true that biopics are a very difficult genre, and those that turn out to be also great movies are those that, beyond plot and adventure, from a famous life issue a moral (just like in Aesop or La Fontaine), a general principle or a way of conduct that could appeal or be of inspiration to us normal people.
Maybe this is just how I saw it, but, putting myself in the clothes of a non-go-playing person, I’ve found this aspect somehow lacking. In other words, I couldn’t perceive necessity in what the director proposed us with this work.
Am I too picky? Go and see for yourself!

Japanese Go players in Rome

On Saturday 7 October a group of 33 Japanese go players from a Nagoya go club came to visit Rome and asked to play go with local players. They were lead by Baba Shigeru, 9 dan professional, and Shigeno Yuki, 2 dan professional and Secretary to the International Go Federation and assisted by Oka Isamu, from the go club of Pisa.

The go club of Rome took care of the local organisation of the event and of the subsequent dinner.

We were very lucky to obtain the support of the Japanese Cultural Institute in Rome, thanks to its Vice-Director, Omori Hiroshi, a go player himself.

The Institute is really beautiful, situated in one of the greenest area of Rome (close to Villa Borghese) and graced by an astounding Japanese-style garden. A truly incredible setting for this goodwill meeting.One of the poetic names that the Japanese gave to go is “Shudan”, that means “Hands talk”. A beautiful metaphor of how this game allows people of different languages, cultures, races, religions, to share and dialogue in peace and respecting one another. Having fun in the process…

The talk of hands started Friday night at the hotel of our guests. They let us know that they were a little tired, having just come from a two-days excursion to Napoli, Sorrento and Pompei, so they prevented us that the playing wouldn’t last long in the night.
Now, you must know that another poetic name of go is “Ranka”, that means “Rotted handle”: the legend goes that two woodcutters working in a forest decided to have a short rest and play a quick game of go. When they finished they reached for they axes only to find that the wooden handles had rotted during the years spent playing… Another version of this legend is reported here.
All this to say that when I left to go back home at 1:30 in the morning, everybody was still there playing…

The “official” event was on Saturday afternoon. Omori-san had arranged things in the theatre of the Institute, that offered an incredible view.

The go club of Rome, beside having brought the necessary refreshments (you know, playing go makes you thirsty…), fielded a team of 23 players, with two guest players from Napoli, Carlo Nitsch 1 dan and Luca Esposito 6 kyu.

Needless to say, we all had a great time. No better way to start a friendship than a couple of games of go.

Baba 9 dan pro and Shigeno 2 dan pro gave running commentaries on games, so that everybody got at least two stones stronger…

Then we all went to a traditional pizzeria-trattoria overlooking the Tevere river. After having gone through the formality of eating, gobans and stones appeared again and playing was seamlessly resumed.

I started a conversation with three Japanese gentlemen in a mix of Italian, Japanese, Spanish, English and gestures (hand talk again…). The subjects? Weeeell… Gina Lollobrigida, Sophia Loren, Romolus and Remo, Julius Ceasar…

A beautiful experience. I don’t know how, but Paolo Scattini stole from Baba Sensei the promise to bring back the whole group next year.

See you all next October, then!

P.S.
To see more pictures, click on the film looplet below:

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