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THE APOSTLE OF SOUND MADNESS
by Piotr Grella
See Magazine
August 20, 2009
Edmonton avantgardist Jerry Ozipko celebrates four decades of peaceful
living and wild music-making
Funny, He Doesn't Look Like An Apostle Of Madness... | ^CJerry Ozipko's
sober appearance disguises a composer, writer, and musician with a
taste for "extreme" sounds.
[As part of his ongoing series of profiles of leading figures in
Edmonton's classical music community, SEE writer Piotr Grella-Mozejko
pays a visit to longtime avant-garde advocate Jerry Ozipko.]
Jerry Ozipko and I are sitting in front of my Mac, stooping over
the scanner. One after another, leaves of age-yellowed paper, some
stiffer, some softer, are carefully placed on the glass window. The
lid is closed, the front button pressed, and in an instant the somewhat
tubercular sound of the scanning mechanism causes us to titter gently.
To Ozipko, this process is a way of ensuring the past will be preserved
in perpetuity, converted from its tactile and fragile physicality
into strings of binary code, easy to store and transfer between
computers. To me, it is almost a religious experience - I hold these
frail pieces of paper in my fingers, looking into the sturdy, simple
yet noble faces of Ozipko's Ukrainian ancestors, faces which appear
carved from tough oak or walnut tree by an ax, not a chisel. This
is what makes them so beautiful. Euphemia and Ivan, Pearl and Sam
... generation upon generation, absorbing Canada more and more, and
giving it more yet in return. Now the old, old photograph of the ship
Armenia, which brought Ozipko's grandfather to this country. And now
the grandfather's baptism certificate, written in beautiful hand and
signed on 15 September 1877 by the Polish clerk of the kaiserlich und
koniglich (imperial and royal) administration, large tracts of Poland
and Ukraine being part at that time of the Austro-Hungarian Empire...
I will never forget that magical evening years ago, when Ozipko
generously permitted me to glimpse into the lives all gone, but
lasting forever, when I finally understood why my friend could both
so effortlessly embrace the past and feel so positive and curious
about the unknown future.
"That is true," Ozipko says. "I am aware of where my family and I came
from, that whole load of tradition, but I'm also quite fond of what I
can do this very moment. What can I do? Well, play my violin as best
I can to speak through the newest music as best I can. Don't forget
my grandfather, grandmother, father, and uncles were all amateur or
even semi-professional musicians! It all came naturally."
Ozipko - violinist, educator, writer, composer, arts administrator -
alludes to his healthy obsession with experimental music, of which he
has been the foremost champion for four decades. "I remember as if it
were today!" he recalls. "It was around 1969 that I became seriously
involved with the avant-garde. Then, in 1972, at the Edmonton Public
Library, I gave a series of six lecture-recitals featuring 'extreme'
stuff. What wouldn't I play! Pieces for violin and electronic sounds,
graphic scores [music that looks like abstract art], conceptual works
... You know what?! People dug it! I easily had audiences of between
50 and 70! Today, it is not too common."
Soft-spoken, dressed unadventurously, given to studying sacred texts,
Ozipko may seem the antithesis of the mad avantgardist.
"I'm not a showoff," he says, "and none of my friends is. Look at
those whom I've worked with, the pioneers of the avant-garde here,
like Reinhard [von Berg], Bill [Damur], Jonathan [Bailey]. All of them
'normal,' modest. We don't have to look crazy for silly marketing
purposes. By default, we're not in for the dough. Sound is the goal."
A series of brilliant performances just completed, Ozipko can look
forward to opening his fifth decade of making strange noises.
From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress
by Piotr Grella
See Magazine
August 20, 2009
Edmonton avantgardist Jerry Ozipko celebrates four decades of peaceful
living and wild music-making
Funny, He Doesn't Look Like An Apostle Of Madness... | ^CJerry Ozipko's
sober appearance disguises a composer, writer, and musician with a
taste for "extreme" sounds.
[As part of his ongoing series of profiles of leading figures in
Edmonton's classical music community, SEE writer Piotr Grella-Mozejko
pays a visit to longtime avant-garde advocate Jerry Ozipko.]
Jerry Ozipko and I are sitting in front of my Mac, stooping over
the scanner. One after another, leaves of age-yellowed paper, some
stiffer, some softer, are carefully placed on the glass window. The
lid is closed, the front button pressed, and in an instant the somewhat
tubercular sound of the scanning mechanism causes us to titter gently.
To Ozipko, this process is a way of ensuring the past will be preserved
in perpetuity, converted from its tactile and fragile physicality
into strings of binary code, easy to store and transfer between
computers. To me, it is almost a religious experience - I hold these
frail pieces of paper in my fingers, looking into the sturdy, simple
yet noble faces of Ozipko's Ukrainian ancestors, faces which appear
carved from tough oak or walnut tree by an ax, not a chisel. This
is what makes them so beautiful. Euphemia and Ivan, Pearl and Sam
... generation upon generation, absorbing Canada more and more, and
giving it more yet in return. Now the old, old photograph of the ship
Armenia, which brought Ozipko's grandfather to this country. And now
the grandfather's baptism certificate, written in beautiful hand and
signed on 15 September 1877 by the Polish clerk of the kaiserlich und
koniglich (imperial and royal) administration, large tracts of Poland
and Ukraine being part at that time of the Austro-Hungarian Empire...
I will never forget that magical evening years ago, when Ozipko
generously permitted me to glimpse into the lives all gone, but
lasting forever, when I finally understood why my friend could both
so effortlessly embrace the past and feel so positive and curious
about the unknown future.
"That is true," Ozipko says. "I am aware of where my family and I came
from, that whole load of tradition, but I'm also quite fond of what I
can do this very moment. What can I do? Well, play my violin as best
I can to speak through the newest music as best I can. Don't forget
my grandfather, grandmother, father, and uncles were all amateur or
even semi-professional musicians! It all came naturally."
Ozipko - violinist, educator, writer, composer, arts administrator -
alludes to his healthy obsession with experimental music, of which he
has been the foremost champion for four decades. "I remember as if it
were today!" he recalls. "It was around 1969 that I became seriously
involved with the avant-garde. Then, in 1972, at the Edmonton Public
Library, I gave a series of six lecture-recitals featuring 'extreme'
stuff. What wouldn't I play! Pieces for violin and electronic sounds,
graphic scores [music that looks like abstract art], conceptual works
... You know what?! People dug it! I easily had audiences of between
50 and 70! Today, it is not too common."
Soft-spoken, dressed unadventurously, given to studying sacred texts,
Ozipko may seem the antithesis of the mad avantgardist.
"I'm not a showoff," he says, "and none of my friends is. Look at
those whom I've worked with, the pioneers of the avant-garde here,
like Reinhard [von Berg], Bill [Damur], Jonathan [Bailey]. All of them
'normal,' modest. We don't have to look crazy for silly marketing
purposes. By default, we're not in for the dough. Sound is the goal."
A series of brilliant performances just completed, Ozipko can look
forward to opening his fifth decade of making strange noises.
From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress