I’m headed to a coffee shop downtown, where Arrington de
Dionyso’s art is hanging. The paintings, a series of colorful female
nudes, double as cover art for his new solo album, I See Beyond the
Black Sun. When I arrive, Dionyso will show me video of his
collaboration with an interpretive dancer. But I’m running late, and I
call to let him know as much. I get his voicemail, and am treated to a
bass clarinet solo. It figures, really, as Dionyso, frontman of K
Records mainstay Old Time Relijun, cultivates a life completely
immersed in art.
The album, as Dionyso sees it, incorporates the painting, dance, and
other aspects as integral parts of a greater whole. “The music wouldn’t
be complete without it,” he says. Black Sun is a heady,
challenging concept with which, without the use of words, Dionyso hopes
to “envision and transmit a massive change in energy for the future.”
What’s more, it sounds nothing like his band.
“An Old Time Religion show tends to be more outwardly athletic,” he
says. “The solo performances are not any less physical, but the
physicality is really on an internal level.”
Whether it’s Tuvan throat singing, the bass clarinet, or yet-unnamed
homemade instruments—which all share familiar deep drones and
free-jazz runs—Dionyso is consistently and ferociously breathing
out. “It’s a step away from hyperventilating,” he says. “It’s a very
lucid, aware kind of space.” The exertion becomes trance-like.
“It’s a very deep, profound experience,” he adds. “To go there, it’s
a place of magic. I put myself in a very vulnerable position. Whatever
you call it—you can define it in spiritual terms—I’m very
open to receiving cosmic information.” For this message to be relayed,
listeners will need to share a bit of Dionyso’s open mind and
concentration.
Over the course of our conversation Dionyso kept returning to two
words, “austerity” and “dignity,” as if signposts. They represent for
him, in these tumultuous times, necessary changes in energy and
approach toward shaping our world politically, economically, and
socially. And while, to the uninitiated listener, the wailing
drone might appear free-wheeling, austerity and dignity also explain
Dionyso’s character and compositional style.
Improvisation is also an important aspect throughout, but each song
contains touchstones or themes that are repeated every time. To perform
without direct intention or diagram, he says, “is just spray-paint and
color everywhere.” Dionyso has been cultivating these aesthetics for
some time. He considers his music well past the trial or demo stages.
He relayed to me what he learned back in Olympia, from Calvin Johnson
and others: If you do what you love long enough, eventually you’re
going to find someone to pay you for it.
Sure enough it came true, though Dionyso still works his tail off,
touring six months of every year. In early 2009 he will spend two
months touring Europe, where he’ll also go into residency at a printing
studio, hoping to emerge with a hand-pressed book.
At one point the 34-year-old referred to himself as somewhat aged as
an artist, a position I take odds with. Indeed, the beck and call of
the possibility of art in all its forms is impossible for Dionyso to
resist. And with an engaging, sincere personality, a life of travel,
discovery, and connections yet to be made, this seems like only the
beginning.