Red Bull Arts New York Red Bull Arts New York Red Bull Music Academy

Moodymann performing at Space Ibiza.

Credit... John Taggart for The New York Times

For almost two decades, the free energy drink conglomerate Red Bull has been in a deep embrace with the music globe — information technology sponsors lectures from legendary figures; hosts conclaves in which young producers can learn from one another and from elders; and sponsors a robust annual series of alive events. The company's commitment is strong, and besides thoughtful: Its concerts tend to double as history lessons, frequently spotlighting underappreciated artists and scenes. In the music world, it has been, with exceptions, a rare example of corporate largess deployed with aesthetic care, making for one of the most invigorating musical series in the country.

Paradigm

Credit... John Taggart for The New York Times

This twelvemonth's installment of the Crimson Bull Music Academy Festival brought more than a dozen events to New York beginning in late April, and the lineup was characteristically impressive and diverse: a so-and-at present excursion through ambient music history; a live-band tribute to Patrick Adams, a sleeper disco fable; a conversation with the experimental composer Alvin Lucier. I saw an intense night of gqom — aerated, industrial-strength house music from Durban, Due south Africa; watched the bawdy MC Carol from Brazil play loose-tongued, scrappy music from the land'south funk balls; and listened to Moodymann, an innovator of soulful Detroit techno, play rare Prince songs in a sweatbox of a order, when he wasn't stopping the music to give impromptu lectures.

The month'due south events were notable for their global curiosity — few things slide beyond borders as easily as music. (Well, not all things slide across borders and then easily: MC Bin Laden, a young star of Brazilian baile funk, was unable to secure his visa in time to perform at the opening night party.)

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Credit... John Taggart for The New York Times

This year, though, the festival took place presently after Dietrich Mateschitz, a co-founder of Red Balderdash and a multibillionaire, gave an interview to an Austrian newspaper in which he slammed European immigration policy and worried that continued embrace of migrants would do damage to Europe'southward civilisation and values.

This is, of course, in clear opposition to the values promoted by Red Bull Music Academy, which prizes cultural exchange and inclusion. Information technology was easy to get lost in the music at these events, but hard not to retrieve nearly Mr. Mateschitz's statements every time a Cherry-red Balderdash logo glowed onstage.

Epitome

Credit... John Taggart for The New York Times

JON CARAMANICA

Disco nostalgia reigned at "The Music of Patrick Adams," May 11 at the Alhambra Ballroom in Harlem. Mr. Adams largely avoided the spotlight, simply as he did in the 1970s when he was a songwriter, producer and arranger for songs like Musique's "In the Bush," which can still fill trip the light fantastic floors. The festival convened Musique, Fonda Rae, Black Ivory and other disco-era singers, while a rhythm department and quartets of strings and horns recreated Mr. Adams's arrangements, reaching back to the days earlier "electronic" was automatically appended to "dance music." The grooves were handmade, revisiting the plush, tactile early disco mix of R&B, big bands, Latin percussion and gospel-rooted belting. Vocalist afterwards vocalist worked the crowd, promising dear and bliss, and Mr. Adams took wriggly, slidey synthesizer solos on songs like Deject One's "Temper Strut." At the end of the concert — afterward Gold Flamingo Orchestra's "The Guardian Angel Is Watching Over Usa," which finds faith in a desolate subway — Mr. Adams finally took centre phase. In disco's heyday, he didn't get to perform with such large forces, and after praising the band, he had an idea: "I want to go back in the studio!" JON PARELES

In the mid-1980s, Teddy Riley invented New Jack Swing — the audio that brought hip-hop's brashness into R&B — in his Harlem chamber, going on to make hits for Keith Sweat, Bobby Brown and his own groups, Guy and Blackstreet. On May v, at Cerise Bull Arts New York, Mr. Riley told the stories of those hits in detail in an extended interview that was more like a monologue, with Mr. Riley giving enticing insights on his songwriting procedure, his relationships with certain drug dealers of the era and his work with Michael Jackson on the "Dangerous" album. A couple of hours later, a New Jack Swing-themed event was underway at Louie and Chan, except that it wasn't: The D.J.s, at least during the early on part of the dark, appeared to not accept gotten the memo and were playing run-of-the-mill club hits, not the hard-snapping classics of the genre. But then Mr. Riley strode into the claustrophobic infinite and gear up a synthesizer with a Vocoder fastened, and began a brief but utterly catalytic prepare, including Guy's "Goodbye Love," Blackstreet's "Don't Leave Me" and other gems from the days when R&B had a digital swagger.

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Credit... John Taggart for The New York Times

JON CARAMANICA

Elza Soares, the eminent Brazilian vocaliser and activist, sat atop a throne in the center of the Boondocks Hall stage on Friday, her seat about six feet off the footing, wearing a vast and shimmering dress and looking as if she were ready for the audition to come and entertain her. Ms. Soares is near 80, though no i knows for sure. Before concluding week, she hadn't played in the United States for more than 25 years. Only in Brazil she'due south immortal. At Town Hall, she mostly performed songs from her 2016 album, "A Woman at the End of the Earth," a late-career highlight, recorded with a crew of younger musicians, that mixes new wave, forró, One thousand.P.B. and math-rock. Ms. Soares coasts through it all with her rolling purr (or is it a growl?), meeting the music head-on and suggesting the physicality of archetype samba rhythm. On Friday, from the offset strains of the a cappella "Coração Do Mar," Ms. Soares'due south power was remarkably uncompromised. And so was her ethic: When she finished a embrace of Seu Jorge'south "A Carne," a protest against Brazil's ingrained racial hierarchy, Ms. Soares alleged: "European union sou negra. Negra. Negra." She probably said it two dozen times, moving the word through cycles of impact. By the time the audience came to its anxiety, hollering, the word had gone from provocation to uncomplicated truth, a marker of certainty and power.

GIOVANNI RUSSONELLO

In just 10 years, Sacred Bones Records has get something uncommon: an independent characterization with the coherent vision of a Blue Note or Motown or Stones Throw, but non the genre identity. Sacred Bones defines itself by a disposition. Basically it's a label for dramatized contemporary laments: dislocation, spiritual anonymity, a dulled and dying human relationship to the physical world. On Saturday at the cavernous Greenpoint Terminal Warehouse, nine acts from beyond the Sacred Basic spectrum celebrated the label'due south 10th anniversary, playing alternating sets on opposite stages. Yous had the clear-seeing, absurdist poetics of Genesis P-Orridge; Marissa Nadler's sighing gothic folk laments; the white-knuckled thrash of the Men. Nearing the terminate of the evening, the electronic musician Blanck Mass finished a set of blistering, multihued scuzz, the strobe lights clicked off, and Zola Jesus strode onto the other stage. A vocalizer and electronic musician born Nika Roza Danilova, she performed over stout only muted beats, her vocalization most operatic, but also querying and non-definitive. Singing "Nail," from her latest album, she demanded, "Set up me free/Pull the nail out with your teeth." Judy Garland, Grace Jones and Fiona Apple all flickered upwards every bit Ms. Danilova sent out a cry of controlled bewilderment, so rapidly turned things back inward equally she returned to the vocal's verse. She was dancing between the 2 faces of performance, public and private; you could watch, and sing along, but you couldn't concur it in place.

GIOVANNI RUSSONELLO

Red Bull Music University has a legacy of smart bookings and exacting demands, ofttimes asking artists to revisit archetype eras of their work, or arranging deep dives into underappreciated genres. The demands of such shows differ from the needs of an ordinary concert for a touring artist — they require preparation and flexibility, and a bit of concession to a college vision. From a distance, the functioning past Gucci Mane and his longtime producer, Zaytoven — billed every bit "a throwback pianoforte bar show" — had promise. Inspired by the Tiny Desk-bound concert recorded by the ii for NPR Music late last twelvemonth, information technology promised to show Gucci Mane in a calm, intimate light, and to underscore the sturdy melodic underpinnings of his best songs, Simply onstage May 16 at the Box (Café Carlyle was, presumably, unavailable) he was a fiddling shy, rapping tentatively over prerecorded vocals, which in a cluttered guild setting is fair game, but in this hushed surround felt awkward. Not that information technology mattered much: The real star here was Zaytoven, playing barrelhouse blues and cheery soul on the piano, flamboyant while his partner tiptoed.

JON CARAMANICA

The Red Bull festival closed with a two-part concert jubilant the pianist and harpist Alice Coltrane, centered on the release this month of "Earth Spirituality Classics 1: The Ecstatic Music of Alice Coltrane Turiyasangitananda," which collects recordings she made at the ashram she ran later leaving behind her public jazz career in the mid-1970s. The first half of the issue was a rare public functioning from the Sai Anantam Ashram Singers, playing some of that music accompanied by a pianoforte-bass-drums trio (the bassist was Reggie Workman, a Coltrane collaborator). Audience members were asked to have off their shoes, and they listened while seated on pillows on the floor. The group sang harmonized chants over beats that were thick and bass-heavy, just full of lift. It was missing Coltrane'south magnanimous vox and her transporting synthesizer playing, only the collective work onstage filled the vast room at the Knockdown Middle. (It couldn't entirely make up for the acoustics; Mr. Workman's bass particularly got lost in the rafters.) Afterward an intermission, the harpist Brandee Younger and Coltrane's son Ravi, a saxophonist, led a scattershot jazz dream team — featuring David Virelles, Mr. Workman, Courtney Bryan and Jeff Watts — in a choice of her compositions. At the end, the ashram singers came onstage for a joint performance (you knew they would), the horns and voices coming together in a fluid convocation, stitching together 2 sides of an artist that were never and so far removed to brainstorm with. GIOVANNI RUSSONELLO

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Source: https://www.nytimes.com/2017/05/24/arts/music/red-bull-music-academy-festival.html

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