The opening section of this concert reminds me of a builder laying out his tools one after the other, [endtease]then carefully assembling something that is both fixed yet flexible. It’s a delicate process that can’t be rushed and so as Time Stands Still, a little after seven minutes and with the initial structure in place, yet more connective layers are applied. Here, the stakes are raised making something possible – bringing down the light. The tingle factor? Way off the scale for this listener. Following some questions from the audience, Fripp returns to the guitar to ask some questions of his own via an ominous sounding Queer Space Whole Tone. Perhaps the answer he’s looking for is found during Requiem, a solemn almost chilling blend of the beautiful and the breath-taking; the micro and the macro all at the same time - the crowded “alone” as large as a world and as small as a stone (as e e cummings didn’t quite say.) As far as the guitarist was concerned at the time “A very good audience & (subjectively) I enjoyed the performance the most of the tour so far. This means nothing as regards the music or the event.”
The opening section of this concert reminds me of a builder laying out his tools one after the other, [endtease]then carefully assembling something that is both fixed yet flexible. It’s a delicate process that can’t be rushed and so as Time Stands Still, a little after seven minutes and with the initial structure in place, yet more connective laye...
Even more than in the December Suite performances, Mr Fripp here lets his guitar speak in its own clear voice against less densely textured backgrounds. For example, At The End of Time has evolved a long way from Newlyn. On this night it sounds resolved and calm rather than yearning or dramatic. One intricate figure that in the Ely performance seemed just an embellishment appearing near the end, here becomes an important element of the music. Requiem is a development of the solemn theme ...
Even more than in the December Suite performances, Mr Fripp here lets his guitar speak in its own clear voice against less densely textured backgrounds. For example, At The End of Time has evolved a long way from Newlyn. On this night it sounds resolved and calm rather than yearning or dramatic. One intricate figure that in the Ely performance seemed just an embellishment appearing near the end, here becomes an important element of the music. Requiem is a development of the solemn theme heard on Love Cannot Bear, but builds to a richly orchestrated climax where any feeling of mourning dissolves in light. After this, the gentle fadeout through a ten minute coda is a perfect exit from the music – or maybe even a way for the listeners to take the music with them. Perhaps these soundscapes reflect the distinction between consciousness and awareness that Fripp made in his aphorism “Being aware is not being conscious. Consciousness is being aware that we are aware”. Various disciplines can be bridges from awareness to consciousness, from ‘knowing about’ to ‘knowing’. I’m tempted to liken the solo guitar voice to a consciousness emerging from mere awareness.
