Kevin Carrel Footer

Author: KCF

  • Where the bougainvillea used to bloom

    Where the bougainvillea used to bloom

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    Photo by John Fernandes Two years have passed since the bougainvillea last flowered. The green leaves still frame the window of my bedroom, but the vine has not put on any blossoms since you left. The branches are covered in robust, green leaves, but these are just symbols of missed encounters and twice-broken promises. The…

  • On stage / 6 Nov.

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    We have been playing each week at the Jazz Voyeur Club in Buenos Aires. Very special guests have been joining us, such as Katie Viqueira (pictured here), Daniel Garcia, Ariel Prat, Guillermo Fernandez, Caracol… and the list goes on. We’ve also been playing private events around town, such as the corporate gig shown here. But,…

  • A carpet of words

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    The blank white walls of the room are covered in illegible words. Totally. There is no spot that has not been written on. I do not know who wrote them or why, but they are the words that surround me, clamoring to break into my mind, imploring me. Covered in words like tattoos, the walls…

  • Buenos Aires whispered

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    She drifts in and out of my vision and my life. I see her murkily, as if she were beneath the brown Rio de la Plata water. She swims languidly and shows no need of surfacing for air. When she opens her mouth to speak, it is muffled and I only see it opening and…

  • Buenos Aires Blues Festival… and more

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    Yesterday was one of those glorious days where everything falls into place. Lunch with our dear friends Dolores Bengolea and her husband, film director Hector Olivera on the balcony of their Buenos Aires penthouse, an on-stage reencounter with my old friend and harmonica mentor Charly Cuomo at the Buenos Aires Blues Festival, and then a…

  • Across the night

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    I watch the container ships move slowly across the water just below the horizon. They move so slowly yet with such implacable purpose. Turn away from the window and when you turn back, they are gone. Tug boats scurry out to meet them, airplanes prepare their descent into Aeroparque, a new metropolis rises in Puerto…

  • Veils

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    We met as if on a high and barren plain, two specks coming from great distances, preceded by long-shadows. We approached from two separate, desperate horizons. The wind was a dull cry and raised a chalk-like dust that covered everything with its pallid sigh.

  • A deep need of voyages

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    Buenos Aires — On Saturday we touched down in this city that is – while not my birthplace – my spiritual home. (Fifteen years of my adult life have been spent here and it is, after all, the place that has nurtured me as an artist.) After a slew of rehearsals, we debuted our new…

  • Sweet Tango with dancers

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    KCF
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