Making choreography is always a process, which usually begins by listening to the music and moving freely in it. It is important to find the rhythmical elements of the music. In the genre of flamenco a dancer is also one of the musicians. Knowing the lyrics of the song can give you more inspiration – there’s a story behind the movements. However, flamenco dance doesn’t try to tell a story but rather mirror the music and the rhythm. You can say it’s communication from inside to outside. The variation of energy is an important element in choreography, too.
In this process you have uphills and downhills. There may be some part of the choreography which doesn’t easily find a right form. You also have to try different things and analyze the movements carefully. Filming your own dance can give you a good point of view. Making choreography is detailed work like making a jigsaw puzzle. You also have to fully throw yourself into the process. You can do choreography almost everywhere, for example on the train or asleep, as it a lot of mental work, too. Finally, when the choreography is ready, you love it like your own baby and don’t want to change anything in it. Sometimes you still have to do it and in the end you might be surprised with the result.
And a bit of a news flash at the end: Our new video came out this week! Let me introduce A Volar.
At times like these you need good news. This week especially with the bad news from Asia. We’re glad we heard something good.
Our week’s been full of practicing for the forthcoming gigs and it’s been incredibly fascinating to get the new songs going. But the best part of the week was when Antti told us about our fans in China.
Frolicking around the internet, like our fiddler often does, he had come across a site called Youku.com. It is the YouTube of China that differs from its older brother YuoTube (I don’t want to use the words big brother in this context) only slightly. Mainly because western copyright laws do not apply to the material in Youku, but that’s just minor trivia (and have you ever seen western copyright laws obeyed in YouTube either?)
This blog post hasn’t got a thing to do with copyrights. We have six fans in China! Antti (the fiddler-bass-player-frolic-round-the-net member of the band) found out that someone had “leaked” our music video Hierro from YouTube to this site. With the most fascinating English title “Finland Girls Bajo Cero fresh new feeling track Hierro Pictures”. And six people had clicked the positive thumb button meaning they like it! Six people! We find it hard not to smile like idiots. We had our first drops in the ocean!
Now all we need (as a band) is thirteen million more Chinese Likes so that one percent (1%) of the Chinese population likes us. This 1% is only a hundred times the size of our hometown Oulu.
The population of China could form 186 million Bajo Ceros. But don’t forget that we have grown faster. Within the last six months we have gained two new members, which means we have grown our band population by 40%. The end of the world is here when all the 186000000 Bajo Ceros formed in the People’s Republic of China decide to do the same.
This week everyone has noticed that spring is here. For me, spring was here over a month ago. Even though the temperature still could sink to a nice -25 degrees celsius and it was only February, for me it was spring.
The coming of spring doesn’t have to be more than a slight change of light, or a certain birdsong that makes you feel that winter is giving way to warmth. Ok, it might not always be warmER but still, there is a clear change in how the wind smells. I’m always looking forward to the next season. Every one of them has their own lovely features (forgetting the bad ones).
Of course it makes years go by faster and faster, when you’re always pushing forward to the next season. I also tend to get bored quite quickly, for example with a piece of clothing or a food dish or a song. That’s why I’m utterly pleased that Bajo Cero is now rehearsing several new songs for the gigs this spring and summer. It’s exciting to hear how a song you’ve never played live comes together and starts living its own life.
My worst habit is being late. Which is kind of funny, regarding my eagerness of going forward. Years ago, Bajo Cero had a gig trip outside Oulu by train and I missed the departure time almost by an hour. It was a good thing the train had decided to do the same. We (me, the train and rest of the band) met at the station and continued
the trip together. The rest of the band still make remarks about the incident, be it winter, spring, summer or fall.
Spring is here, and though it’s not warm yet, Bajo Cero is on track and coming your way. This Sunday we’ll play an outside live gig on the shores of a frozen sea, at Nallikari beach in Oulu. We’ll also be launching our new music video for the song “A Volar”. It’s going to be
interesting, as we’ll play the song live at the same time as the video is shown on a screen made of snow. I hope the screen won’t melt, though – as it already is spring.
Writing songs is always a surprising project. No matter how carefully you plan what your next song is about and how the story goes and how it’s told, the song still might surprise you and decide to becomesomething completely different. For us writing new songs usually starts with a melody, and then come the words.
But even though the melody at first gives you a feeling of what might happen and you start writing something, it just won’t do. For example, our song “Retransmisíon” tried to be a story about a cold, lonely place – maybe a sad abandoned city, wrecked by a war. But as we twisted and tried to make it work, it told us it wanted to be a story about a girl, waiting for someone by the window, trying to reach their lost signal. And now as I’m singing the song, I just know it couldn’t have been any other way.
What happens to the stillborn songs that never see the light of day? Do they die? I think it’s kind of sad to let go of each blooming little start of a story. But as they say – kill your darlings. But maybe there’s a place where they go to be born again… As new ideas for a novel, or as poetry, as someone else’s songs. I hope so.