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juushikaToday (yesterday now) I had the incredible chance to go to one of the Palimpsest release parties slash performances slash book signings. I knew when I first heard of these that they would occur across the nation, but never expected that they would come so close to my home. When I found out a few days ago that they would be performing in Oregon, I mentioned it to Devon—and bless him, we made it to the Salem performance.
It was beautiful.
The book was Palimpsest (my review of it is here)—the story of four strangers drawn together in a magical, sexually-transmitted city. The author, Catherynne M. Valente/![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
yuki_onna, read from the book—her voice is as deep and rich and nuanced as the world that she has created. She chose passages from throughout the book: November's list, the tales of the trains, the teahouse, Camiria on the beach, each one renewing my love for that character or that scene, each making me anxious to reread the whole book. Paired against the readings, S.J. Tucker/s00j performed, mostly songs from Quartered: Songs of Palimpsest. I've fallen in love with Tucker's recordings, but her live performance exceeded all of my expectations. "You'd never expect so much sound to come from such a small person," the boy said. Her voice is vast, and delicate; accompanied by acoustic guitar, or Valente's readings, or pre-recorded backgrounds which layered her voice against itself into echoes, she made music bold and live and wild in that small room above a bookstore. Afterward, Valente signed by copy of Palimpsest and I picked up Tucker's album Sirens. They are both lovely people in person, from the few minutes that I had to talk to each.
But the experience was more than that summary.
The Train Suite I: Viscous Oil & Persimmon Tea. The background music echoed from speakers, soft and sound-dense. Tucker hummed and crooned the wordless music of the trains over their rails. Valente read about the trains, of the oil and third finger of his left hand, of the pearl third rail and the women with red-painted faces. Outside, a car drove by and its headlights shone into the room, pulling a pattern of narrow windows across the wall behind the performers like the swift view of sunlight through the windows of a speeding train.
It was beautiful beyond words, all the readings, all the songs. And we heard one song which is not yet online!
It's one thing to enjoy the work of artists like Tucker or Valente, but something else entirely to see that art in person, live, raw and and immediate and real. There's a vicarious pride which comes from being around someone who is living their potential and dreams. Their divine spark starts a fire which warms those that stand near it. I feel blessed to have been there, and so thankful—to the boy, for taking me; to the author and singer and significant others and cellist and bookstore owner and friends who made the performance possible somewhere where I could come and see. Bravo, all of you.
They're in San Francisco and Los Angeles next. If you can go, then you should. Either way, if you've not searched out these artists's works—what are you waiting for?
It was beautiful.
The book was Palimpsest (my review of it is here)—the story of four strangers drawn together in a magical, sexually-transmitted city. The author, Catherynne M. Valente/
yuki_onna, read from the book—her voice is as deep and rich and nuanced as the world that she has created. She chose passages from throughout the book: November's list, the tales of the trains, the teahouse, Camiria on the beach, each one renewing my love for that character or that scene, each making me anxious to reread the whole book. Paired against the readings, S.J. Tucker/s00j performed, mostly songs from Quartered: Songs of Palimpsest. I've fallen in love with Tucker's recordings, but her live performance exceeded all of my expectations. "You'd never expect so much sound to come from such a small person," the boy said. Her voice is vast, and delicate; accompanied by acoustic guitar, or Valente's readings, or pre-recorded backgrounds which layered her voice against itself into echoes, she made music bold and live and wild in that small room above a bookstore. Afterward, Valente signed by copy of Palimpsest and I picked up Tucker's album Sirens. They are both lovely people in person, from the few minutes that I had to talk to each.But the experience was more than that summary.
The Train Suite I: Viscous Oil & Persimmon Tea. The background music echoed from speakers, soft and sound-dense. Tucker hummed and crooned the wordless music of the trains over their rails. Valente read about the trains, of the oil and third finger of his left hand, of the pearl third rail and the women with red-painted faces. Outside, a car drove by and its headlights shone into the room, pulling a pattern of narrow windows across the wall behind the performers like the swift view of sunlight through the windows of a speeding train.
It was beautiful beyond words, all the readings, all the songs. And we heard one song which is not yet online!
It's one thing to enjoy the work of artists like Tucker or Valente, but something else entirely to see that art in person, live, raw and and immediate and real. There's a vicarious pride which comes from being around someone who is living their potential and dreams. Their divine spark starts a fire which warms those that stand near it. I feel blessed to have been there, and so thankful—to the boy, for taking me; to the author and singer and significant others and cellist and bookstore owner and friends who made the performance possible somewhere where I could come and see. Bravo, all of you.
They're in San Francisco and Los Angeles next. If you can go, then you should. Either way, if you've not searched out these artists's works—what are you waiting for?
