ALBUM LAUNCH // OLD WIVES' TALES AND MUSIC
The Old Syrian fairy tales and music, related to Celtic mythology, are performed in Hungarian from the age of 10 to 100. While listening to music and stories, you can hum softly, eat food and drink, and, as they used to do in the spinning mills and corn mills, weave, braid, knit, crochet, pluck corn and other quiet and useful activities.
Schedule
This evening you can hear the story of the Cherry Orchard's homecoming bird from the Old Syrian story world, with songs interwoven. One of the adventures of Bee, the wanderer of the flower-flowers, will be recounted as Cricket, the wandering musician, tells it to a silent well, at the slowly turning table of a never-ending house on the border of Old Sumeria and Sirius, with cups of mist piled at his elbow. Be part of the action, everyone is welcome!
A mysterious codex from Transylvania in the 17th century is still fresh today
of a mystical codex from a centuries-old
A strange, almost post-modern world described in pictures: 'of the Snowy Mountain, of the City-Site, of the Windless Forest, of the Island of the Mountain of Grass, of the Petal and the Old Petal, of the house between them that is never finished, of the slowly turning table in the house, and all of this is accompanied by melodies hidden in bird paintings: The Ballad of the Warbler, The Pile of Awl on the Bone of the Mountains, The Barge that Makes the Wonderlight Shine, The Spring Rain washes me, The Sleepy Long Fading Slipshod Pamas Boy (and many others). "
Nyitott Műhely
The Open Workshop is a fine place, a place where many different kinds of people can feel at home, which is to say that there is something that is rare and difficult to create, the spirit of the place. This spirit is very sympathetic to me, because it means both that there are shows that interest me and that the occasional stew is okay. And that I'm likely to meet people there who I'm happy to meet, and it's not even out of the question that they're me. Such public (open) spaces are rare in Budapest.
