Primer acto: un estudiante de música concreta se encuentra con este disco; Le parece sorprendentemente pop. Segundo acto: un aficionado al pop se encuentra con este disco; Le parece sorprendentemente críptico. Tercer acto: un espectador libre se encuentra con este disco. Le aparece el amor. ¿Cómo se llama la obra? ¿En qué batea la pongo? “no entiendo cómo, pero me gusta mucho”.
La generación de preguntas, por parte del espectador, denota la calidad artística de una obra. A más preguntas, mayor ha sido la elegancia del autor.
En IDOLS vemos caer tanto la idea del ídolo humano como catalizador social, como también la caída de la Música como un Ídolo creado por el humano. Un ídolo predecible es un sujeto estéril.
Dónde melodía, armonía y ritmo pueden definir fácilmente la música repetitiva occidental (eso que escuchas aunque no quieras en el supermercado); en Idols aparecen la Factura, el Timbre, la espacialidad y la sonoridad como elementos de una estructura creativa libre y previa, o posterior a lo que entendemos como “canción”.
Candelaria Molina Zavalia es una artista por todos lados (siii, toca increíble la guitarra, también, ya sé). En Idols emerge el arte y la artista. Por todos lados.
Las palabras mienten, la música no. Ponte los auriculares y déjate llevar. Habrá sorpresas y alegrías, y, tal vez, encuentres PAZ. Suena.

MARCELO LUPIS (músico/compositor)


The music on IDOLS fills me with memories of VH1. I am transported to the set of a music video. A video from the early days of music videos. In my vision, there are televisions all over the floor. There are lots of cables, too. There are primary colors all over the walls: red, blue, and yellow. This pop-up-video installation puts me face to face with the most prized medium: the sounds and images of the immediate yesterday. The sounds we have all experienced, together. The sonic images which belong to all of us.
Like a sonic television, IDOLS evokes in me more images than any video. After all, sound moves faster than light. There is a groove, and then it is gone. There is a guitar solo, and it is gone. Someone is talking, and then they are gone. Every fleeting moment is present in the following moment after it. It is as if I am just waking from a dream and trying to remember the dream at the same time. There is only the memory. Dreamlike, IDOLS is as if someone left the radio on in the other room. But the other room is the other room of yesterday. The sounds are not more there than here. They are not more then than now.
Speaking of there versus here and then versus now, I am reminded of my own story. Once, as a timid young man, I met an idol of my own - the pianist, Cecil Taylor. Although he gave me his number to call him about lessons, a complete stranger later that same evening convinced me not to call him. “Be careful about meeting your idols.” Whatever the reason, I never called and I never went. How was I to know I would regret this? Nonetheless, somewhere in my mind there is that other room. The other room of yesterday. And in this room a radio is on, and Cecil and I can be heard playing all day long. In this room, myself and my idol are sounding our sound forever. I go to this room all the time. This non-existent room houses my favorite music. This is the room of IDOLS.

BRIAN QUESTA (composer)