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Friday, February 26, 2010 Chicago Acoustic Underground Today the band recorded a podcast for Chicago Acoustic Underground - we played five songs, four of which will be on the new album, and had a blast! I played for CAU back in 2007, and it was lovely returning to the studio and seeing Michael Teach and the gang, which now includes my friend Leigh Evin McCullough from the Four Women Only series that used to live at Uncommon Ground Devon. In three years, they've added a second sound engineer and gone from podcast to presenter, as well as becoming one of the most supportive groups of local music in the city. And they're sponsoring the March 6th show at the Viaduct Theatre (which, by the way, you don't want to miss). The podcast should be online in the next few days, but in the meantime, if you go to the CAU website you can listen to interviews and music with years of fantastic performers - in fact, the most recent show online right now features jazz singer Jeanne Tanner and her band. Which happens to include the excellent Cory Biggerstaff, my bass player. It's a small world, folks.  (This is my favorite photo from today's session: Joe Chellman rocks out.) ^ Top | 11:57 PM | | | 
Wednesday, September 09, 2009 Monasterboice, Drogheda, and Derry "Do we have any Australians?" Cheers. "Do we have any Canadians?" Cheers. "New Zealand? Germany? Israel?" Cheers for each. And then: "Americans?" Muted acknowledgment. Apparently all of us have traveled enough to be a little afraid of Americans' reputation when traveling overseas. But on this tour, the Americans were quiet and it was a handful of Australian girls who won the prize for being loud and uninformed (and for giving too much detail about their backpacking exploits). -712187.JPG) Aussies and Kiwis dominated our bus of 55 as we left Dublin to explore Northern Ireland - and by the end of three days, we'd made lots of new friends. Our first stop was Drogheda and St. Peter's Church, which houses the head of St. Oliver Plunkett. I'm not kidding. Our tour guide thought we should see the 400-year-old mummified head-turned-relic and take photos. I passed on the photos and wondered if the parishioners, who were at the church for mass, were annoyed at the large group of tourists that had descended upon them. The church itself is beautiful - everywhere you look in Ireland, you stumble into gorgeous, centuries-old cathedrals - and when we weren't wandering around looking at heads in the middle of a service, the town was an interesting stop for an hour. We grabbed fresh scones and wandered over to St. Laurence Gate, which, according to the plaque nearby, is the oldest barbican still standing.Nearby Monasterboice is home to three high Celtic crosses, originally used by monks to tell Bible stories, a round tower, two churches, and a Celtic cemetery that's still being used - the newest grave I saw was placed in the last five years. -788551.JPG) From there we headed to Derry, our stop for the night. While our guide/bus driver was primarily useful for transportation and jokes, our guide for the walking tour of Derry was intense and clearly wanted to make the most of the opportunity to give his perspective on the Troubles. The name of the town itself is a statement of allegiance - those loyal to England, who controlled the town until the last 30 years or so, call the town Londonderry, while the majority Catholic population (and most of Ireland) call the town Derry. Newscasters dubbed the town Slash City since they usually say "Derry/Londonderry" as to seem neutral. According to our guide, who was born and raised in Derry, the conflict was not about religion - it was about Irish civil rights and whether the town would be controlled by the Irish or the English. Derry is the site of Bloody Sunday, where 27 unarmed civilians were shot by British armed forces - the British are still investigating the incident, and the families of the 13 (or 14, if you count the man who died later from related injuries) are still seeking justice. There's a memorial to those who died on that day, and it lists their ages - many of those shot were only 17 years old. After that sobering look at history, we lightened things up with dinner at Ice Wharf, where a drunk Irishman approached our eight-person table asking, "Are any of you Americans?" Carolyn and I didn't say a word, but the Australians and New Zealanders who made up the rest of the table all pointed at us. Outed! It turned out that he had a pint of Guinness for "the Americans," which he ended up leaving with me. Apparently we're loved after all. After dinner, we made our way over to Peadar O'Donnells, which made the best night we've had in Ireland so far. A trio of musicians (bodhran/vocals, flutes, and acoustic guitar) played fantastic sets of traditional music, and the locals danced (and sometimes sang) with them. Pub musicians here tend to be fairly casual - instead of standing on a stage, they often sit down around a table with a pint of beer. I found out afterward at Derry is apparently known for music, and with good reason. Even though I was exhausted - every night I'd gotten less than six hours of sleep and I essentially pulled an all-nighter with the flight to Dublin because of the time change and staying awake through the day - I didn't leave until the musicians stopped playing and closed out the bar. Labels: Derry, Ireland, musicians, travel ^ Top | 7:22 AM | | |
Monday, July 20, 2009 Guzheng I got Yunqing (Allen) Pan, a guzheng player, into the studio on Saturday - he brought his wife and his two-year-old son, who wandered happily around the studio while he was playing. You would have thought he'd be interested in the drum set that was hanging out in the main room (apparently most kids are), but he was more interested in sitting on Allen's guzheng case or walking around behind the kit without actually looking at it. It was cute. With the guzheng (see video) done, the only thing left to record are some background vocals, which should be coming from another singer-songwriter in LA. Then on to mixing! ^ Top | 5:46 PM | | |
Tuesday, June 23, 2009 Recording and Chinese Instruments Today's session was incredibly productive, in spite of the fact that the music I sent to Chihsuan never made it to her inbox (good thing I brought music anyway, just in case). Chihsuan Yang plays violin and erhu, the latter of which made an appearance today on seven of the eleven songs that are going on the new album. Few people on this side of the world are familiar with it, but the erhu is the Chinese equivalent of a violin - it's a two-stringed, fretless instrument that actually sounds fairly similar to a violin, though it looks like no instrument Westerners are familiar with. Where it differs acoustically is an encouragement of pitch bending (think bluegrass fiddle, if there's to be a comparison - this quality, which can sound amazing, also makes the instrument fiendishly difficult to keep in tune) and a more melancholy, haunting sound. My already pensive piano pieces seem more mournful. On a whim, we also experimented with pizzicato erhu on a Philip Glass-inspired reworking of a traditional Chinese folk song, which worked surprisingly well as another textural layer. I've been listening to the roughs for the last hour, and they sound fantastic - I'm excited for you all to hear the finished product! Labels: Asian culture, musical styles, musicians, recording ^ Top | 10:13 PM | | |
Saturday, May 23, 2009 Recording! After a rather lengthy absence from the blogosphere, I'll be posting regular updates for the first time in months. It's actually been a nice, if unintentional hiatus. But I want to keep you up to date with some exciting news - I'll be starting to record that long-promised album next week! My trio, which consists of Joe Chellman (drums) and Cory Biggerstaff (upright bass), will be heading to Uptown Recording in a few days to work with engineer Rob Ruccia, who worked on a Grammy-nominated project combining Indian musicians with Miles Davis alumni. I'll be producing the album, which will feature some extra cast members (there may be some collaboration with musicians from other parts of the country), Uptown's new grand piano, and a slew of new material. So count on regular posts on the recording process - I'm hoping to have the album finished in its entirety by the end of the summer. ^ Top | 4:04 PM | | |
Monday, November 03, 2008 Stumbling into Music After weeks of non-stop work, Friday night seemed like a good time to sit in a cafe and catch up on reading for a few hours. As long as you're not looking for internet access, Julius Meinl is the perfect place to spend a laid-back weekend night--they have live music and are open later than any of the other coffee shops in my neighborhood. (To my knowledge, the only 24-hour coffee shop in Chicago is Starbucks. There's only one other place that comes close: Pick Me Up Cafe. In a city this large, that's kind of sad.) A jazz duo was wrapping up their first set when I walked in, and I think I was the only person actually paying attention to them. When they took a break I returned to my book, perking up when they started playing again. In the middle of the first song, the pianist looked over and asked, "Hey, are you a musician? Pianist?" How did you know? Delighted at being correct, Ken Shiokawa talked me into playing a couple of songs. I, of course, was wonderfully dressed for the occasion: He and Lou Marini, the bassist, were both in suits, whereas I was dressed more casually than I normally would be to walk around town, much less perform in any setting. But Lou and I played together, and it was a lot of fun. I ended up making two new friends. And as a testament to how small the Chicago music scene is, I know Ken's other bass player and the band that Lou regularly gigs with. ^ Top | 1:15 AM | | |
Thursday, June 14, 2007 Hello my friend, we meet again. Yes, it's been the longest absence this blog has ever experienced. I apologize. We're now back in business, and I promise not to lapse so severely again. Here are some highlights from the last few weeks:
Labels: blogging, concerts, musicians, swing dancing, teaching ^ Top | 11:52 PM | | |
Sunday, April 15, 2007 Theo's Java Club Thus began the tour: insanity in leaving Chicago in the middle of rush hour (my fault), an additional two hours of unrelated gridlock, a sturdy 1990 "truck" (closer to an SUV, really) named Bessie, two guitars (if we'd added mine it would have made three) and a keyboard, stories about raising children not yours, a Californian guitarist named Kim (also known as Monica's best friend), and three musicians left to their own devices for hours on the road with no radio. It was awesome. Sometimes I'm ambivalent about touring before I actually get into the car--there's so much to take care of before leaving town for a few days or weeks that I wonder if it'd be better to just stay home. But once I get to the first venue, I often realize that I'm exactly where I need to be. Friday was an excellent example of this. With everything that needed to be done, uncertainty about where we would spend the night (our housing plan had fallen through), and running behind schedule due to all the traffic, I was in an unusual mode of stress. But the people at Theo's Java Club were great, and I relaxed as soon as Monica started her set. That night I asked for a title and some characters to appear in an improvised song, and one of the suggestions was Redbeard the Pirate--so in the middle of the song we had an audience full of people saying, "Grrrr!" in a very pirate-like manner. I took a photo from the stage that I'll post on Flickr when I get back to Chicago. And after the show, Joe offered us a place to stay. Joe's an up-and-coming filmmaker who launched into two of my favorite subjects: aesthetics and theology. So it wasn't surprising that he and I talked until 6:00am, long after the rest had gone to bed. (Along those lines, Kim snores. Loudly. Though I hear she's not nearly as loud as she used to be.) Labels: musicians, performing, touring ^ Top | 3:39 PM | | |
Saturday, April 07, 2007 "You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream" (CS Lewis). Seeing trained musicians give up on music makes me a little sad. I was talking to a former graduate conducting student (undergrad in piano) tonight who's now a day trader. He barely plays anymore. Part of the problem is that once you've been working at such a high level of musicianship, working with a bad community orchestra or mediocre church choir is more frustrating than fulfilling. It can become an all-or-nothing scenario. Less extreme are some friends from the University of Michigan, which has one of the top music programs in the country--all of these guys still play, but they're no longer trying to make a career out of it (then again, when you're pursuing music as a career, often very little of your time actually involves playing and creating music). I know a vocal major who's now a stockbroker, a guy with a master's degree in conducting who's been working in computers and may go into law. How many of these choices are driven primarily by a change in interest and desire and how many are driven by frustration or a realization of practicalities, it's hard to say. It's so difficult to do well--and we'll define "well" here by being able to make a living, nothing particularly extravagant--in the music world, often regardless of talent, that many people end up giving up in some way. This summer I talked to a pianist who graduated from the Moscow Conservatory and also got a jazz degree in the US; after years of performing and trying to promote himself, he ended up so cynical about being a professional pianist that he now makes music he acknowledges as crap because it allows him to be his own boss. He doesn't play for fun anymore. He just plays some keyboard in his booth at art fairs in order to attract old ladies who like his soothing, synthesized versions of famous movie songs and will buy CDs. It's a decent living by his own rules, though he's lost his love for playing, his love for music. I'm sure we can all find examples in our own experiences of the people who were amazing artists, actors, writers, musicians in high school but seemed to drop their passion entirely once they left. When I was in my junior year, I saw this and went a little overboard in some ways, deciding that instead of letting years of musical training go to waste, I would concentrate in flute performance when I got to college. (I didn't end up as a music major, though I did spend a lot of late nights practicing in the music building.) Perhaps it's no real loss--people's interests and callings change, and those experiences remain part of who they are. But I can't help but feel like something precious goes missing in the transition. Labels: hopes and dreams, musicians ^ Top | 8:50 AM | | |
Saturday, March 31, 2007 Alvin Ailey, or Hearing Your Recorded Voice in a 4000-Seat Auditorium Last Thursday I was privileged to see one of my favorite dance companies at the beginning of their Chicago residency--Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater is one of the best modern companies in the US and easily the world. They have a tendency to eschew sets for elegant lighting that puts the focus on their dancers, rather than on any technical aspects of production, and their pieces tend to be both artistic and accessible. The night opened with "Grace" by Ronald K. Brown. I saw Brown's company, Evidence, years ago and thought the company was mediocre--but the choreography here was simply beautiful, and combined with Ailey dancers the result was, in a word, explosive. The piece started with the spotlight on a solo female dancer in white and moved to contrasts between red- and white-clad dancers. Lord, oh Lord above / God of heaven, Lord of love / Please look down and see my people through. Arrangements of Ellington's "Come Sunday" wove themselves through the work, and days later I still have the melody in my head. It's rare too when a piece of art moves me near to tears as I watch a concert; that night the dancers weren't just performing--they were expressing a deep part of themselves and their own struggles. Carmen de Lavallade's "Sweet Bitter Love" focused entirely on another solo dancer--in this case Renee Robinson, who was celebrating the amazing feat of dancing with Ailey for 25 years--in a slim, formal gown, obviously longing for her lover. While it was an elegant piece, the movement here was nothing particularly special. Uri Sands's "Existence Without Form" was where things got interesting for me on a personal level--I was admittedly rather distracted throughout the piece, focusing instead on the music and my own performance (a little silly perhaps, since it's far too late to change anything). Composer Christian Matjias recorded my vocal improvisations over his piano work last spring, and it was at once exciting and disconcerting to hear the vocalise filling the auditorium. Christian's music is gorgeous (and while I'm sure it would often fit the Oshkosh pastor's criteria for "good" music, it definitely does make the body "want to dance"). And I liked how my work turned out as well--he juxtaposed a take where I improvised with my lower range in a continuous stream with one where I sang in my upper range and darted in and out of the piano's notes; I was singing duets with myself in a bit of a call-and-response. There's little need to comment on "Revelations," a beautiful work which has been the company's signature piece for years. When I saw Ailey last perform in the 2000/2001 season, I was privileged to see the piece combined with a live gospel choir, but only the final section missed that energy. I left the theatre thinking that I miss collaborating with artists from different disciplines, something I did more often in college--it's nice to take a break from the singer-songwriter, folk-pop sound once in a while. Labels: concerts, dance, musicians, performing ^ Top | 11:22 PM | | |
Thursday, March 29, 2007 So-Called "Godly" Music Slacktivist links to a slightly disturbing YouTube video: Satan's Tool: The truth about contemporary Christian Music. In this sermon, courtesy of Alan Ives, Music Minister of Wyldewood Baptist Church in Oshkosh, Wis., we learn:
People like Ives seem completely ignorant of the history of church music and, sadly, the Bible. Many hymns that now seem sedate borrowed melodies from the secular music of their day. The tune for "O Sacred Head Now Wounded" was originally a medieval love song. (Apparently the legend that Luther and the Wesleys used drinking songs as a source for melodies is false.) Throughout his sermon, Ives repeatedly claims that music is bad if it "makes the body want to dance." But dancing is often seen in the Bible, and it's frequently reported as a good thing. Dvora Lapson writes: "[King David in I Sam. 6:14] not only danced, sahaq, in the ordinary sense of the word, but rotated karar, with all his might (verse 14); jumped, pazaz (verse 16); whirled around, hul; and skipped, raqad. The dance was an expression of spiritual ecstasy." I hate to say this, but Ives is very obviously, well, white. I suspect you'd be hard-pressed to find an African-American or Latino pastor claiming that only "marches" in 4/4 are acceptable to God--gospel music frequently plays with rhythm, and so much Latin music is a rhythmic challenge. I'd also be willing to bet that if Ives listened to the Jewish music of Biblical times he'd declare it ungodly--their tonal modes were based on quarter-tones (essentially this means that they'd be sliding in-between notes on our scale), which surely wouldn't fit his conservative musical style. Sacred music did not begin and end with the classical European composers. Obviously I should book my next gig at his church. I'll be in Oshkosh next month. Labels: Christians, musical styles, musicians ^ Top | 1:03 AM | | |
Sunday, January 21, 2007 Gretchen Witt It's a tired phrase, but it truly is a small world. I'm often surprised by how interconnected people are. Last night I was privileged to catch one of singer-songwriter Gretchen Witt's performances in Chicago; she's from Brooklyn and just happens to be good friends with Jennifer Haase, another great musician I shared a show with back in September. Lest you think that these connections are due primarily to the (small) size of the folk singer-songwriter scene, I was actually reminded to go to the concert by Jesse, who was merely forwarding an email from one of his friends who said that Gretchen had been her best friend years ago. Did you follow that? ^ Top | 12:33 PM | | |
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