Mark Guiliana loves Rotterdam. One of his pieces even has the intriguing title: ‘The Mayor of Rotterdam’. Towards the end of his solo concert at LantarenVenster in this Dutch city, the American drummer confesses that this is one of the best venues for him to perform. Indeed: ‘When I imagined trying to pull something off like this, I thought about this room.’
As an example of the quality of this theatre hall he mentions that staff members were so worried about him walking out in the dark that they put a nice white tape on the floor so he wouldn’t trip. ‘This is unusual hospitality.’ For regular visitors to LantarenVenster, it is a moment to realise once again how unique this stage is, where the world’s best musicians make their appearance several times a week.
Guiliana has made quite a name for himself with projects as diverse as Mehliana (the electronic duo with Brad Mehldau), David Bowie’s swan song Blackstar, The Mark Guiliana Jazz Quartet, Heernt and Beat Music. His solo album MARK, released last year, was even nominated for a Grammy Award.
Still, it is rather daring to start a gig as if you were wandering around your attic at home at leisure, picking up some rhythm instruments and water-filled bags now and then. Even from behind his drum kit, he does not yet take the benevolent audience into a recognisable beat. As abstract as the images projected behind him are at first, he plays in a searching manner. When the colours and shapes gradually change into recognisable people and scenes, Guiliana’s pulse sounds more emphatically and it is easier to surrender to his rhythm. Even after that, the film images get a Warholesque treatment and Guiliana’s patterns begin to show anomalies again.
Using soundscapes with synthesiser tapestries and speaking voices playing along, the tunes blend together and the audience often does not know at what moments it is appropriate to applaud. For the first half hour, the musician flown straight from Los Angeles behaves as if he were playing in front of an empty hall. It gives his performance something uncomfortable. When Guiliana takes a seat at the grand piano and we see and hear a report of a baseball game in the background, it becomes clear that his music is not only propelled by a heartbeat, but that this heart is also pumping warm blood.
After playing for an hour, Guiliana grabs the microphone and begins to talk entertainingly. You sense that the audience is yearning for this connection. ‘I brought a bunch of percussion with me and I would love to get it in as many of your hands as possible,’ he says. Eagerly people raise their hands, more than willing to participate in collectively music making. Guiliana walks down the rows, handing out sleigh bells and encouraging his fellow musicians to create something together. ‘Ideally you don’t know when the next person begins and where yours ends. It’s just one sound.’ The title of his final piece is ‘Peace, Please’. Dozens of bells from all around the hall support this musical wish. For a moment, the wicked outside world seems far away.
Seen: May 1, 8:30 PM, LantarenVenster, Rotterdam
‘Peace, Please’ live:
