S O R I A H

12 Responses to “Upcoming Performances”

1. 

   blu Says:
   June 11, 2009 at 3:57 pm

   Just checking in.. hope to see you soon…
2. 

   Chris Parkhurst Says:
   July 2, 2009 at 8:23 am

   Enrique,

   Really looking forward to having you be a part of our Benefit Concert on Saturday, July 18th.

   Can’t wait to see you! I know that the goats are eager to hear your goat calls…

   - Chris Parkhurst
3. 

   David Vélez Says:
   August 6, 2009 at 4:20 pm

   Soy un director internacional de Teatro e investigador sobre antropología teatral. me ha interesado mucho, muchísimo tu música. quiero saber más de ti, comprar tu música… en fin… ¿dónde te puedo ver?

   Humildemente, David Vélez, Spain.
4. 

   S.L. Lheureux Says:
   November 19, 2009 at 2:09 pm

   THREE INCANTATIONS FOR SORIAH

   Ch’ien / The Creative

   The Dragon stirs within its cave
   Coils shifting, cloud-hidden,
   Dreaming of the Pearl.
   The dragon at rest beneath the earth
   Bides its time within the maze
   Honing the vision
   Rooted deep
   Concealed light pulsing in the dark.

   Uncoiling, leisurely and bold
   He breaks through the clouds
   Releasing rain.
   The rain does its work;
   The rivers uncoil
   Streaming in sure lines toward the sea.
   Lions drink there and Lambs,
   The Midwife and Hangman.
   In the open now, eyes rolling,
   He knows the nearness of the Pearl.

   No longer in the field,
   Not yet in the heavens,
   The Dragon turns and turns
   Perfects his timing
   Talons flexed
   Black cleaves white
   Stroke by stroke, note by note
   Cutting clean –
   One false stroke and all is lost.
   The Pearl glows, just out of reach.
   Surefooted, he treads the chasm’s brink,
   Surrenders his foothold on the earth
   Stepping into the silence of uncharted space.

   The Pearl rolls and turns
   Compelling
   It revolves in opalescent bliss.
   Radiant and unalloyed
   The Dragon wings across the sky.
   Gods and Demons aid his going forth.
   Vital and imperative
   He swims up the River of Heaven
   Tail lashing, bearing down on the Pearl
   The Prize
   The Jewel.
   He grasps it
   Encloses it
   Penetrates it.
   It grasps him
   Encloses him
   Penetrates him.
   The Mystery unfolds its petals of flame,
   Heaven Earth and Man locked in accord,
   All beings flow into their rightful forms
   Their appointed destinies.

   It is complete,
   But still he climbs in dizzy spirals
   Clutching the burning orb.
   Blinded to danger by the Light,
   The Dragon, prideful, loses touch,
   The times no longer in tune,
   Resonance broken,
   Melting like faithless wings of wax.
   He is turned back,
   Circling back, a wheel turning,
   Biting its own tail,
   The Pearl a circle dropping away
   Wheeling through stars
   Away
   The Dragon dropping back
   Returning
   To the Cave
   The Source
   The Root,
   Coiled and dreaming now
   In the silence of the maze,
   The dreaming ground where visions form again
   Like pearl around a grain of sand.

   Pi / Grace

   The Light
   The Light on the Mountain
   On the snow on the Mountain
   Fire and Ice –
   Fire that flows and clings
   Like the scarves of apsaras
   On the walls of Tun Huang.
   Ice, still and clear
   As the face of Buddha
   Hewn from the cliffs of Lung Men.

   The artist paints the sound.
   His breath forms the lines.
   Fire and Ice:
   The burning eye
   The cool control.
   The form unfolds
   Like the map of a new continent,
   Its plains and elevations
   Charted in ancient notes
   Only the master cartographers can read.

   Or a piece of the Moon
   Fallen to earth
   Numinous and singing,
   Chang-O still clinging to it,
   Her form laced within its folds,
   Her Light articulating the vaults
   Within the Mountain,
   Lighting the artist’s path –
   A gift of Grace
   So that he may shape his vision of perfection.

   Ting / The Cauldron

   In the closeness of his cave
   The Shaman lifts his torch;
   Smoke burns his eyes and lungs;
   The sparks burn his hand,
   But there is light
   Alive and moving on the wall,
   His blood moving with the magic in the wall,
   Drawing down the power of Birth
   The terror of Death,
   The secret images within the wall.

   In his earthen lodge
   The Diviner forms a question, asking,
   Asking the Oracle . . .
   The only Question.
   A row of pictures burned into the oracle bones
   Line by line, note by note,
   The question cracking open,
   Forming new lines,
   Another picture: The Answer –
   The workings of Heaven laid bare
   Beneath the point of a heated blade.

   In a vaulted temple chamber,
   Pillars carved with cloud-borne phoenixes,
   The priest feeds a wavering flame
   Beneath a cauldron of bronze.
   Open to Heaven,
   Inscribed for eternity,
   The vessel glows with heat and light
   And staring eyes of horned beasts and coiled serpents –
   Wide unyielding eyes
   That lie upon the priest like a shroud.
   A mask of the imperative,
   Their scales snake and turn and change
   In the act of becoming . . .
   A barbed tail; then an outstretched wing –
   The beast’s black maw
   Now the raptor’s gaping beak.

   The priest blows upon the frail flame.
   Gentle wind – Fragrant wood – Clinging fire
   Merge
   To lick the belly of the crucible,
   Within its womb the Sacrifice:
   Tiger’s eye – golden jungle of tangled light;
   Eagle’s heart – airy, rolling in cloudy peaks;
   Spider’s hands – shaping mazes, weaving webs;
   Black goat’s silken balls – dark with unspeakable dreams.

   The fire rises.
   An alchemy begins,
   Base elements transformed:
   (Pure poison to its flowered core,
   Refined, the belladonna yields healing.)
   The Carnage of body & blood
   Becomes
   The Medicine of bread & wine
   Filling the Six Directions, the Six Realms,
   Saturating
   The muffled layers of the rose,
   The chambers of the human heart.

   Within the ritual
   This liturgy of line and song,
   Of light and shadow,
   The universe breathes,
   Its order maintained.
   And we hear once more
   The plangent singing of the stars.
5. 

   Jessamyn Grace Says:
   December 15, 2009 at 3:04 pm

   Enrique~
   The howling winds of Astoria welcome you in mid-January to create ritual where the river meets the sea. And what a perfect place- a haunted, historical theatre that provides an entryway to the underground tunnels here (www.columbianvoodoo.com )! When you and your mates come we can have a salmon feast and say hello to the ocean…

   Con mucho amor,
   Jessamyn Grace
6. 

   Jonathan Howitt Says:
   January 6, 2010 at 7:18 pm

   yo !!!!! have a great tour. its going to be a great one ..
7. 

   Mike D'Ambrosia Says:
   January 18, 2010 at 1:19 am

   The most mystifying and sono holographic experience I have ever had. Thank you for the blessings, this is the next step above Tibetan throat singing, in every way. Selah

   Portland Oregon
8. 

   Mauricio Velasco Says:
   February 8, 2010 at 7:52 pm

   Please come to Canada. It would be an honor.
9. 

   dharma Says:
   February 9, 2010 at 11:08 am

   this is beautiful! i love danse perdue, and i love soriah, and wow! i’m glad i took a minute to check this out. i’m going back to watch and listen again. thanks for sharing!
10. 

    Samanguru Africa Says:
    August 22, 2010 at 8:46 pm

    S o R I A H,

    What a pretentious little trust-fund poser you are with your cultural rip-offs and your self-absorbed sense of spirituality. Wait, let me guess… you’re also a ‘shaman’ I bet. Of COURSE you are.

    The white-boy dreads (shitlocks) are an especially nice insult given your cultural appropriation of the music of others coupled with your neo-colonialist sense of entitlement to rip off non-Western artists.

    Your privilege floats on the backs of others.

    A thousand shouts of “shame!!!” are upon you this day.
11. 

    Sven dar Eothen Says:
    August 22, 2010 at 8:53 pm

    S o R I A H,

    Vad ett pretentiöst begränsat förtroende-fond poser du är med din kulturella rip-offs och din självupptagen känsla av andlighet. Vänta, låt mig gissa … du är också en andlig ledare jag bet. Klart att du är.

    Den vita-boy lejonman är en särskilt trevlig förolämpning med tanke på ert kulturella anslag på musik av andra tillsammans med din neokolonialistisk känsla av rätten till slita av icke-västerländska konstnärer.

    Din privilegium flyter på baksidan av andra.

    Tusen hojtningar av “skam” är över er denna dag.
12. 

    soriah23 Says:
    August 23, 2010 at 5:35 am

    Sven of Africa.. I’m so pleased you are so moved by my music. I know this probably wont appease you, this retort is mostly for other more discerning visitors to read it since I have decided to post your assuming, misinformed and hopefully temporary opinion on my site. First of all, I must inform you that I do work a job that pays for most of my travels, recordings and studies with Masters from Tuva, India and Mexico. All of whom have given their utmost enthusiastic blessings and respect for my craft. I have spent a lot of time concerning myself with any-hijacking of another’s pure culture and standards of each of my influences to which the masters have all assured me of it’s power and validity even when I didn’t believe it myself. No grants or trust-funds and certainly no social or familial status pays for anything that I do. I do hope someday soon to live on my craft as it is something unique that I’ve been told over and over again is truly transportive and profound to the listener and or participant of my offerings.
    Secondly, I don’t care for and don’t wear dreadlocks. I have no idea where that came from. Your mind I suppose. In any case, it’s inconsequential and petty.

    Thirdly, I can’t say from calling myself a “Shaman”. What I do know is that it is a title given to one by their community. I actually shy away form that particular self-proclamation. I do what I do. If the soul whom it reaches call me a Shaman, so be it. I do very much respect the shamanic way and I believe it’s a path for human survival on this planet. As Soriah, my intent is to remind people of this.
    As for my privilege, you’re absolutely right, I am supported my many others. They remind me of the larger work being done.
    And as far as shame…well, maybe you can tell me about shame;)
    Thanks for the opportunity to answer these charges no matter how misguided and “wounded”;)
    I sleep in peace now. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
    E(:+O<-