Frecuency Singular Plural V
Hannah Weinberger. Concierto local
6 pm. Former Operations Hall
Nora Turato. Someone ought to tell you what it's really all about
7 pm. Floor 3
Free entry until full capacity is reached
Sound, musicality, voice, melody, spoken text, and noise, which rival and accompany the corporeal presence, are central to the performances that make up Frequency Singular Plural. A series dedicated to visual art performances, curated by María Montero Sierra, which focuses its programme on the presentation of two new pieces of work every month and, in between the sessions, the exhibition of one of the two interventions. The double performative and visual dimension of the pieces defines the format and rhythm of the programme.
Hannah Weinberger. Concierto local, 2019
An improvised concert by an amateur group that comes together to play without a score. That is the premise established by Weinberger and which she accompanies with minimal instructions to the participants. Whether with instruments or with software for creating computer-generated music, invited musicians — mostly amateurs — launch themselves into a performance in which their notes are superposed until they reach a point in which they unintentionally synchronize. The result is surprising because of the harmony and the musical sense that lives on until it becomes almost recognisable. How is it possible that they reach the same musical place, a synchronized musical score, when they do not have a score nor even a melody to refer to? As in her previous works, a selection of local individuals, without any apparent connection, temporarily make up this group in which the simultaneity of their decisions reflects the choral authorship.
Nora Turato. Someone ought to tell you what it's really all about, 2019
The idea that the female voice is strident, symptomatic of an outburst of hysteria, which interrupts or annoys, is the leitmotiv that Turato reverts in each of her performances. Shouting at the top of her lungs, radiant and powerful, wearing a sophisticated suit with stiletto heels — her undeniable hallmarks —, she throws herself onto the stage in a verbosity that is impossible to silence. The speed and superposition of ideas, the simultaneity of the "I's" that make, doubt and execute, follow each other one second after another just like our relationship with the Internet. The now is a place governed by social media, videos, voice messages, self-satisfaction, hedonism and doubts. Constantly exposed, in need of adrenaline boosts, the media dominate our day-to-day lives. Turato narrates this, lives it, and analyses it from this arena in which the female voice seems to be measured at a different height, this time, finally, loud and clear.