Declan Zapala at Morley College

In the spirit of journalistic integrity I should state from the start that I know the subject of the piece. The subject and myself met at the Catholic comprehensive school we attended in the mid 90’s. (It’s important that you note I didn’t attend Grammar or Private school as this makes my achievements as an unpublished blogger all the more remarkable.) So I used to sit in Maths and Science lessons with the subject, where invariably the subject would spend much of the lesson tapping on the table. (Today I’m a teacher and as a consequence view banging on the table a breach of the peace, worthy of a lengthy period in a detention centre: the reason for this is because most adolescent noisemakers wouldn’t spot rhythm if it moonwalked into a room and shouted Aoow! at them. Dec, on the other hand, was hit with the rhythm stick so frequently as a child it’s a wonder the social weren’t called in to monitor his family.) Being from Irish stock, music is in his blood. One salient memory I have of my youth is going around to Dec’s house for his birthday and being left open-mouthed at how quickly the standard hum of a house party could ascend into the melody of an Irish lock-in: people singing together- in tune- to an old folk number, plucked by a drunk uncle with sober hands. Music, like I say, is very much in his family.

Dec's Birthday.

Unsurprisingly, Dec went on to study Sound Engineering at The University of Surrey. From there, he studied classical guitar at The Royal College of Music. Whilst there Gary Ryan taught him- a master craftsman recognised internationally as one of the great guitar technicians. During a tutorial, Ryan asked Dec to show him what he was currently into. Dec replied by slapping his guitar like a secondary school workbench. Ryan smiled at this guitar renegade; aware an iconoclast was in his midst. Unconcerned that this ship was sailing off course, he encouraged Dec to follow his instincts; in time the musician would find a home in percussive guitar.

So here we are again. I’m at a Declan Zapala gig. I’ve been to see Dec play more times than any other artist. For all of that, it never gets boring. For one, he’s my friend and I get an enormous sense of satisfaction seeing him perform. Secondly, he’s a wonderful player who never fails to dazzle. Thirdly, and this can’t be stated enough, the boy is a loose cannon. Dec belies the stereotype of a classical musician. He’s not the kind of soulless savant who spends his life locked away in a practice room starved of social media, rationed from human contact. He’s a distractible jitterbug that loves to laugh, loves to talk. Because of this, his gigs are a surprise to people who go. It is the sound of high culture, delivered by someone subverting its customs. Where other guitarists let their music do the talking, Dec lets his mouth. Some of his introductions are longer than the songs: bearing in mind this is classical music those are long preambles. Tonight he challenges a man on a front row, accosting him for looking like his brother. In another episode, he self-deprecatingly recalls his first brush with an online troll. A moment later, he is explaining the formation of DNA. Next, he affects mock-arrogance over his Edinburgh reviews. Dec digresses so much he was once asked to compete for England in the World Digression Championship; his response: "Do you like pineapples?" It’s why I love going to Dec’s gigs because he speaks passionately with personality. For classical purists he’s probably a confusing entity.

Morley College gig.

As for the music? Well, this gig was like no other I’ve seen. Both of us are fans of Daniel Kitson: the reason? he’s the most progressive comedian of his age. Long ago, Kitson won comedy’s premier league so now operates in a league of his own. Because there is no one to compete with him, he competes against himself. His shows have become more and more daring, involving intricate stage management. One, Analog.Ue involved the comedian having to press 46 tape decks at precise times to tell a multi-layered story. Another Polyphony, a digital update on its predecessor, had Kitson sequencing a series of iPods to communicate his stand up. This house of cards approach to art is so exciting to watch because you know one wrong move could bring about its collapse. But shouldn’t great work necessitate derring-do?

The reason I talk about Kitson is because in this show Dec took himself out of his comfort zone, adding a multimedia element to his performance. The first half has Dec delivering his back catalogue. There’s the deliberately sparse Awakenings, a fill in the gaps activity where the listener can pause and reflect. We’re then floating down the river like Browning’s Lady of Shallot, pushed on by Crystal’s current of ethereal beauty. From there, it’s teacher’s Gary Ryan’s Benga Beat, a composition that culminates into carnival. After, there’s the Running of the Bulls Koyunbaba, which begins with a tense stare off, then degenerates into a frenzied assault where the boy barely gets out alive.

What I’ve come to see this time though is what Dec does with that projector screen that’s behind him. Last year was the first time I’d missed his Edinburgh show. He told me about his plans to re-imagine Steve Reich’s Electric Counterpoint into classical guitar parts, accompanying it with digital projections designed by school friend Amar Chundavadra. Using a home recording set-up Dec recorded ten of the guitar parts on his classical guitar and two of the electric bass parts on his nylon-strung Alto Guitar (a super-sized classical guitar with eleven string). Live, he would then play over these recordings.  It sounded like quite an undertaking; one I was gutted to miss. Fortunately, this one off gig as part of London’s Vault Festival provided me with a second chance.

To say that the work is sublime is an understatement. Witnessing the marriage of impressionistic visuals with Reich’s minimalist phrasing was something truly special. The rich textures recalled Radiohead’s Weird Fishes and Kate Bush’s Aerial, magic carpets of blips and pulses that carry your subconscious to faraway lands. Beautiful.

The gig culminated in the swoon of Angel, a composition by the late great Eric Roche. It’s the sound of a bridal march, a refined elegant step to the altar, where you then hold your partner’s hand, look into their eyes and see love reflected back. It will make a romantic of you.

Dec's album can be bought here:

http://declanzapala.com/welcome-to-the-awakenings-cd-order-page/