About This Event
Minimum Age:All Ages
Doors Open:7:00 PM
Show Time:8:00 PM
TABLE SEATING POLICY
Table seating for all seated shows is reserved exclusively for ticket holders who purchase “Table Seating” tickets. By purchasing a “Table Seating” ticket you agree to also purchase a minimum of two food and/or beverage items per person. Table seating is first come, first seated. Please arrive early for the best choice of available seats. Seating begins when doors open. Tables are communal so you may be seated with other patrons. We do not take table reservations.
A standing room area is available by the bar for all guests who purchase “Standing Room” tickets. Food and beverage can be purchased at the bar but there is no minimum purchase required in this area.
All tickets sales are final. No refund or credits.
This event will be streamed live online through LPR’s streaming channel, beginning at 8pm.
Valgeir Sigurðsson’s boundless approach to music informs his work as a composer, musician, engineer and mixer. In high demand as a producer, Valgeir has spent over a decade cultivating projects by diverse international artists whilst developing his own particular magic brand of recording artistry – now with three solo albums to his name. Valgeir is the founder of the Bedroom Community record label as well as Iceland’s top recording facility Greenhouse Studios (collaborators include Björk, Feist, Bonnie Prince Billy, Camille, CocoRosie, The Magic Numbers, múm and many others). In all of his projects, Valgeir bends and blends familiar sounds to expose the new within the known, lending depth to pop and mainstream music through care and an ear for esoteric, eclectic sonic experimentation. His aural oeuvre and collaborative contributions collide organic with synthetic, acoustic with digital, connection with isolation, and domestic with ethereal – resulting in a body of work ripe with emotion, curiosity, and humanity.
His latest album is Architecture of Loss.
Photo Credit (main photo, etc): Samantha West
Hailed by the New York Times as “a bold new-music interpreter and the violist of choice among downtown ensembles these days,” violist Nadia Sirota has been praised for her “command and eloquence,” (Boston Globe) and for being one of New York’s “brightest, busiest players” (Time Out New York). She is best known for her unique interpretations of new scores and for commissioning and premiering works by some of the most talented composers of her generation, including Marcos Balter, Caleb Burhans, Judd Greenstein, Missy Mazzoli, and Nico Muhly.
photo credit: Samantha West
Disquiet is the debut album of American composer, sound recordist and engineer Paul Corley.
Disquiet is music that never settles. Music that makes the listener fiercely attentive to the present, to the very idea of listening. It takes some doing, and some patience, to produce an atmosphere so unearthly and yet so radiant, to organize fragmented – sometimes found – sounds into such sparse, sustained and spiritual coherence. As we listen to Corley listening to himself listen and seek a fixed genre point for this music, we perhaps rub together glitch, drone, sound art, post rock and alt-classical, and an as yet unspecified genre called ‘hazard a guess’, and then employ our own discretion.
Although Disquiet is Paul Corley’s first album on Bedroom Community, he is no stranger to the label. Having collaborated extensively with the Bedroom Community collective since 2007, the label is proud to add Corley to the intimate roster that now comprises of seven highly original artists. Disquiet is a welcome addition to the catalogue; at the same time an album of delicate, primal (prepared) piano variations, a sequence of exquisitely reflective slow songs, and a metaphysical field recording where resonances are set off by real and imaginary geographical features. The album seems to be the recording of a dream, not necessarily Corley’s own, as if he slipped into the mind of someone asleep and calmly set up his equipment. Disquiet suggests a walk through an icy wasteland under a darkening sky, with unspecified creatures lurking at the edge of vision, a drifting walk that ends in the shadows of a vaguely familiar deserted city. Some might discern in the distance the footsteps of Morton Feldman who has once passed nearby or is about to, or might spot some wires discarded by Chris Watson and a question or two written into the sand by Anton Webern.
When asked whether this is music representing something coming into being – a growing in confidence or something dissolving into deep, equivocal quiet beyond which there is only space – the answer is simple, yet complex. “Both at the same time,” Corley replies – somewhere between hazarding a guess, and knowing for sure.