The illegal transit strike of 2005 did not quite go according to the transit union’s plans. Deep, dark blue New York City quickly lost patience with TWU 100, rewarding the despised MTA a PR draw with the union. The stagehands union Local One might be heading towards a similar fate if they make good on threats to strike. The critical issue at stake, as defined by Patrick Pacheco on NY1’s On-Stage a few weeks ago: “featherbedding.”
Both sides seem to agree the single biggest sticking points are current work rules requiring excess (producers claim) stagehands above and beyond the needs of shows. According to the League of American Theaters and Producers' Charlotte St. Martin: "Were the League to accept the final offer dictated by Local One, the Local One labor costs for new plays and musicals would rise by 30% for new musicals and 44% for new plays, over the life of the contract." In the long run, these production costs will make it ever less likely riskier productions like the recently closed Grey Gardens will make it to Broadway. Instead, theater patrons could expect future seasons chocked full of safe but dull Disney and Hollywood adaptations.
So far, Local One has not appeared to be as publicity conscious, posting no press releases or letters to theater patrons on their website (but according their newsletter, they just held a successful golf tournament fundraiser for their PAC). They “respectfully declined” Mayor Bloomberg’s offers to help facilitate negotiations. Most of their statements in press reports refer to the revenue generated by Broadway’s blockbuster shows (conversely, producers point to an 80% failure rate for new shows). Variety reports the local is formulating justifications for striking without the required approval from the international, which indicates a disconnect between the two.
If Local One does strike, will New Yorkers rally to their cause? So far, they have not really taken their case to the people, but defending unnecessary “featherbedding” is a tough case to make. Of course, it will not just be producers who suffer. The real economic pain will be felt by restaurants, shop owners, and hotels that cater to the Broadway tourist trade, hardships which the union has yet to acknowledge.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Where Are the Rebels?
If you ever wondered what Petula Clark’s “Downtown” sounds like in Czech, Rebelové (The Rebels) is the film for you. Check out this youtube clip of dubious providence to satisfy your curiosity, because this 2001 Czech movie musical is not currently available on DVD in North America.Rebelové begins as a colorful, splashy teenaged love-story movie musical. It translates a number of familiar English-language 1960’s pop tunes, like “Downtown” and Nancy Sinatra’s “Sugar Town,” into Czech for some breezy, if slightly goofy, musical numbers. However, as the story advances, the mood gets progressively darker. After all, it is set in 1968 Czechoslovakia.
Perhaps that is why Rebelové has never reached the audience it deserves in America (yes, this is an if-you-release-it-I-will-review-it post). It starts out as Hairspray (without cross-dressing) and concludes like The Lives of Others, except gloomier. Spoiler (if you think you will ever see it): In fact, as Rebelové ends the young lovers are separated, with the young army deserter cooling his heels in solitary, as his true love and her family make a break for the border.
Downer endings do not usually cut it with American musical audiences, but Rebelové was a big hit with Czechs when it was released. Clearly, the story of young lovers literally separated by Soviet tanks touched a nerve with viewers old enough to remember the dark days of the invasion. It was even adapted as a Czech stage musical two years after its screen release (Broadway has certainly adapted weirder fare).
I saw the film on a Czech Air flight, and totally fell for it. Call me sentimental, but it is unusual to see a film evolve in tone the way Rebelové does. Prague is on my mind as I will be back there soon for a family function (of which I’m an honorary member). At a time when my friends tell me the memories of life under Communist oppression are starting to dim in the younger generations, New York theater goers will get a fresh reminder when Rock ‘n’ Roll, Tom Stoppard’s new play about the Prague Spring, opens on Broadway, assuming the stagehands do not strike. That would be a fitting irony if a questionable union action postponed a production about the struggle for free expression in Eastern Europe.
Monday, October 15, 2007
Making the Scene
Making the Scene: Contemporary New York City Big Band Jazz
By Alex Stewart
University of California Press
When many hear the words “big band” it summons black and white images of hotel ballroom dances from the 1940’s—elegant, but distant. Those who follow jazz, particularly here in New York, know that there is still a great deal of exciting and adventurous music still being produced with big bands. To an extent, Alex Stewart’s Making the Scene illustrates that point, documenting the rich and diverse big bands playing in the City during the late 1990’s.
In addition to being an academic, Stewart is also a musician with a great deal of experience playing with various aggregations. The more valuable portions of Scene draw from those experiences, as when he explains the benefits of big band experience for musicians. Stewart writes: “soloing in a big band builds strength. Waiting for a turn to solo, surrounded by fifteen or so peers, is like sitting in a pressure cooker.” (p. 3)
Scene also benefits from the voices of many cooperating musicians, with their insights and personalities buttressing Stewart’s case on behalf of big band jazz. Maria Schneider for instance, is always eloquent in her comments, and sometimes shows a sly wit. Stewart recounts:
“Speaking to a nightclub audience about a commission for a ‘women in jazz’ concert at Carnegie Hall in 1994, she said with thinly veiled sarcasm, ‘Don’t you just love that.” (p. 144)
There are weaknesses in Scene though. The obvious being that as a study (of sorts) of late 1990’s big band jazz, it is already dated in some cases. Sometimes Stewart acknowledges this himself, as in the case of the Carnegie Hall Jazz Band Jazz Band, which was led by Jon Faddis, but now is no more. While Stewart writes that the Lincoln Center’s former Afro-Latin Jazz Orchestra: “fits into Marsalis’s vision of reinvigorating jazz as dance and popular music,” in a move that surprised many, the Afro-Latin band was let go by Jazz at Lincoln Center. (p. 255) Still led by Arturo O’Farrill, it is now temporarily in residence at Symphony Space. Also Andrew Hill, whose big band music receives well-deserved attention from Stewart, sadly passed away (when the book was likely well into production). The march of time can outstrip any nonfiction writing, but for jazz it can be especially fleet.
Though somewhat dated, Scene could still be a valuable resource, recording the recent past of New York big bands. It is when Stewart draws on his experience as an academic rather than as a musician that Scene really suffers. Stewart is obsessed with racial and sexual politics. To an extent, this is more than fair territory for academic inquiry, but it gets repetitive in Scene.
Even more frustrating is Stewart’s repeated misuse of the term “neo-conservative,” as when discussing Republican criticism of the NEA, he writes: “neoconservatives saw it as rewarding artists on the left of the political spectrum.” (p. 85) “Neoconservatism” refers to a relatively small movement of intellectuals who were at onetime partisans of the left. Represented by figures like Norman Podhoretz and Irving Kristol, they have not traditionally been especially as hostile to programs like funding for the arts, which is one reason Pat Buchanan has consistently turned his fire on them. In most cases when Stewart uses the term neo-conservative, paleo-conservative would have been more accurate. When venturing into political discourse Scene frequently displays this kind of sloppiness.
Scene is much stronger when Stewart writes as musician rather than as an academic. He does have some real insight to bring to bear on the subject, having played in many big bands himself. Unfortunately, it is a little too dated to be a valid handbook of the current New York big band scene, and it has a little too much politically correct academic jargon to make it a readable history of 1990’s big bands.
By Alex Stewart
University of California Press
When many hear the words “big band” it summons black and white images of hotel ballroom dances from the 1940’s—elegant, but distant. Those who follow jazz, particularly here in New York, know that there is still a great deal of exciting and adventurous music still being produced with big bands. To an extent, Alex Stewart’s Making the Scene illustrates that point, documenting the rich and diverse big bands playing in the City during the late 1990’s.
In addition to being an academic, Stewart is also a musician with a great deal of experience playing with various aggregations. The more valuable portions of Scene draw from those experiences, as when he explains the benefits of big band experience for musicians. Stewart writes: “soloing in a big band builds strength. Waiting for a turn to solo, surrounded by fifteen or so peers, is like sitting in a pressure cooker.” (p. 3)
Scene also benefits from the voices of many cooperating musicians, with their insights and personalities buttressing Stewart’s case on behalf of big band jazz. Maria Schneider for instance, is always eloquent in her comments, and sometimes shows a sly wit. Stewart recounts:
“Speaking to a nightclub audience about a commission for a ‘women in jazz’ concert at Carnegie Hall in 1994, she said with thinly veiled sarcasm, ‘Don’t you just love that.” (p. 144)
There are weaknesses in Scene though. The obvious being that as a study (of sorts) of late 1990’s big band jazz, it is already dated in some cases. Sometimes Stewart acknowledges this himself, as in the case of the Carnegie Hall Jazz Band Jazz Band, which was led by Jon Faddis, but now is no more. While Stewart writes that the Lincoln Center’s former Afro-Latin Jazz Orchestra: “fits into Marsalis’s vision of reinvigorating jazz as dance and popular music,” in a move that surprised many, the Afro-Latin band was let go by Jazz at Lincoln Center. (p. 255) Still led by Arturo O’Farrill, it is now temporarily in residence at Symphony Space. Also Andrew Hill, whose big band music receives well-deserved attention from Stewart, sadly passed away (when the book was likely well into production). The march of time can outstrip any nonfiction writing, but for jazz it can be especially fleet.
Though somewhat dated, Scene could still be a valuable resource, recording the recent past of New York big bands. It is when Stewart draws on his experience as an academic rather than as a musician that Scene really suffers. Stewart is obsessed with racial and sexual politics. To an extent, this is more than fair territory for academic inquiry, but it gets repetitive in Scene.
Even more frustrating is Stewart’s repeated misuse of the term “neo-conservative,” as when discussing Republican criticism of the NEA, he writes: “neoconservatives saw it as rewarding artists on the left of the political spectrum.” (p. 85) “Neoconservatism” refers to a relatively small movement of intellectuals who were at onetime partisans of the left. Represented by figures like Norman Podhoretz and Irving Kristol, they have not traditionally been especially as hostile to programs like funding for the arts, which is one reason Pat Buchanan has consistently turned his fire on them. In most cases when Stewart uses the term neo-conservative, paleo-conservative would have been more accurate. When venturing into political discourse Scene frequently displays this kind of sloppiness.
Scene is much stronger when Stewart writes as musician rather than as an academic. He does have some real insight to bring to bear on the subject, having played in many big bands himself. Unfortunately, it is a little too dated to be a valid handbook of the current New York big band scene, and it has a little too much politically correct academic jargon to make it a readable history of 1990’s big bands.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
48 Hours on 2 of 162
The Hot 8 Brass Band is one of the best of the younger, funkier New Orleans brass bands. The senseless murder of drummer Dinneral Shavers was a tragedy for the NOLA music scene and an even greater loss for his students at the Robouin High School, where Shavers founded the student band. Sadly, he would not live to hear them play the instruments he moved Heaven and Earth to acquire for them. His case and the case of another murdered artist, animated film maker Helen Hill were profiled on CBS’s 48 Hours Mystery last night. Titled “Storm of Murder,” it is worth catching on the web here.
Correspondent Erin Moriarty breaks down the grim facts of NOLA justice:
“The truth is convictions for murder in New Orleans are rare. Just how rare? Dinerral Shavers was one of 162 people murdered in New Orleans in 2006. Police have made arrests in a third of those cases and as of today, there has been one conviction. One conviction. . . .
This year, nearly 3,000 suspects -- ranging from alleged drug dealers to murderers -- were simply released because the district attorney's office failed to bring charges on time. But even when charges are filed, cases often fall apart. What’s the effect? "I think the effect is no one wants to testify because they're afraid that this guy is gonna be out of jail. No one wants to put themselves out there," says [Shavers’ principal Kevin] George.”
Unfortunately 48 Hours did not have the time to fully explain the ins-and-outs of the Louisiana system. By virtue of criminal code #701, the DA has sixty days to file charges, or the accused is cut loose. According to the Pic, there were 187 such releases in 2005 before Katrina hit. In 2006, there were 3,000 so-called 701 releases.
As bad as DA Eddie Jordan (D) looked in “Storm of Murder,” his record is actually even worse. Dealing with this trying situation is an unqualified staff hired by Jordan to replace experienced career employees in the DA’s office. That is the inescapable implication of a jury ruling against Jordan in a racial discrimination suit, which was recently upheld by a federal appeals court.
The closing titles of “Storm of Murder” read:
"There has still been no arrest in the Helen Hill case.
With 162 murders in 2006, the New Orleans District Attorney’s office just announced its 2nd conviction.
The New Orleans murder rate for 2007 remains the highest in the nation."
The police have a suspect for the murder of Shavers, but the handling of the case does not inspire confidence. Helen Hill’s brother Jake, seen in the report handing out reward flyers, seems to be investigating her murder more actively than the NOPD. Compounding the personal tragedy for their friends and family is the great music and film their murderers have denied the world in the future. The Hot 8 are still making music, but they certainly have not forgotten their friend. (They will be in New York for the Lincoln Center Christmas tree lighting on Nov. 26th and you can check out their site here.)
Correspondent Erin Moriarty breaks down the grim facts of NOLA justice:
“The truth is convictions for murder in New Orleans are rare. Just how rare? Dinerral Shavers was one of 162 people murdered in New Orleans in 2006. Police have made arrests in a third of those cases and as of today, there has been one conviction. One conviction. . . .
This year, nearly 3,000 suspects -- ranging from alleged drug dealers to murderers -- were simply released because the district attorney's office failed to bring charges on time. But even when charges are filed, cases often fall apart. What’s the effect? "I think the effect is no one wants to testify because they're afraid that this guy is gonna be out of jail. No one wants to put themselves out there," says [Shavers’ principal Kevin] George.”
Unfortunately 48 Hours did not have the time to fully explain the ins-and-outs of the Louisiana system. By virtue of criminal code #701, the DA has sixty days to file charges, or the accused is cut loose. According to the Pic, there were 187 such releases in 2005 before Katrina hit. In 2006, there were 3,000 so-called 701 releases.
As bad as DA Eddie Jordan (D) looked in “Storm of Murder,” his record is actually even worse. Dealing with this trying situation is an unqualified staff hired by Jordan to replace experienced career employees in the DA’s office. That is the inescapable implication of a jury ruling against Jordan in a racial discrimination suit, which was recently upheld by a federal appeals court.
The closing titles of “Storm of Murder” read:
"There has still been no arrest in the Helen Hill case.
With 162 murders in 2006, the New Orleans District Attorney’s office just announced its 2nd conviction.
The New Orleans murder rate for 2007 remains the highest in the nation."
The police have a suspect for the murder of Shavers, but the handling of the case does not inspire confidence. Helen Hill’s brother Jake, seen in the report handing out reward flyers, seems to be investigating her murder more actively than the NOPD. Compounding the personal tragedy for their friends and family is the great music and film their murderers have denied the world in the future. The Hot 8 are still making music, but they certainly have not forgotten their friend. (They will be in New York for the Lincoln Center Christmas tree lighting on Nov. 26th and you can check out their site here.)
Friday, October 12, 2007
Coming Soon: Darfur Now
Which describes your feelings about the genocide in Darfur? A: It is a vast human tragedy perpetrated by an intolerant Islamist regime. B: It is a very sad thing that deeply touched celebrities like Don Cheadle and George Clooney. If you answered A, you will be profoundly disappointed in Darfur Now. If you answered B, this is the film for you.
Darfur Now opens November 2nd, and a full review will be posted then. Despite its unquestioned good intentions, DN is undone by its poor historical context and questionable celebrity worship. Written and directed by Theodore Braun, DN provides precious little context into why the genocide is happening. While the filmmakers do explain Sudan is ruled by the National Islamic Front, they do not mention NIF’s ties to the Muslim Brotherhood, the international jihadist organization. The NIF established Sharia law and embarked on an ethnic cleansing campaign against Christians and animists in the south, but DN does not think these facts are relevant, glossing over the 1990’s as a period of “civil war.”
Darfur Now’s reason for being is to raise consciousness of genocide in Darfur, yet ignores past genocide itself. The trailer makes this clear, explicitly dating the beginning of the genocide at 2003. Conservatives have criticized Hollywood activists for turning a blind eye to Sudan’s genocidal campaign against Christians, only belatedly stirring to action when the Wahhabist government began its mass murder of the moderate Sunni Muslims of the south. Unfortunately, DN will further support that argument.
While DN’s grasp of history might be lacking, its coverage of celebrity activism is slavishly comprehensive. DN follows six main characters, identified for their efforts to bring positive changes to Darfur. Naturally, co-producer Don Cheadle is one on them. We get to see riveting scenes of Cheadle writing speeches for rallies. More embarrassing, are the home movies shot by Cheadle of his amateur diplomatic trips to China and Egypt with George Clooney on behalf of Darfur. This is basically Entertainment Tonight level stuff.
Of the six primary characters, only two are native to Darfur, but viewers see them the least. Probably the most screen time is given to Adam Sterling, a college student spearheading a campaign for California’s divestiture from Sudan. His budding idealism is admirable, but not great cinema.
Perhaps the most compelling character is Luis Moreno-Ocampo, the International Criminal Court’s prosecutor assigned to crimes against humanity and war crimes in Darfur. After a year and a half investigation, he brought provisional indictments against a high-ranking Sudanese official and a leader of the Islamic Janjaweed militia. In a telling scene, one of Ocampo’s lieutenants asks if Sudan will actually turn over anyone they indict. Another answers with words to the effect of: “of course, eventually they will have to.” Here’s a spoiler: six months after the indictments, it has not happened yet. In fact, one, Ahmad Muhammad Harun, is currently the government official in charge of Darfur refugee camps.
The timing for this film will be interesting. It will be released a week after Jonathan Demme’s hero-worshipping Jimmy Carter Man from Plains documentary hits screens. Of course, Carter recently announced to the world that what is happening in Darfur does not qualify as genocide, just really bad luck. At least, DN’s intentions are noble. Despite the film’s blind spots and weaknesses, it deserves some credit for raising awareness of the very real ongoing tragedy in Darfur. One just wishes this film had been made years earlier, and done better.
Darfur Now opens November 2nd, and a full review will be posted then. Despite its unquestioned good intentions, DN is undone by its poor historical context and questionable celebrity worship. Written and directed by Theodore Braun, DN provides precious little context into why the genocide is happening. While the filmmakers do explain Sudan is ruled by the National Islamic Front, they do not mention NIF’s ties to the Muslim Brotherhood, the international jihadist organization. The NIF established Sharia law and embarked on an ethnic cleansing campaign against Christians and animists in the south, but DN does not think these facts are relevant, glossing over the 1990’s as a period of “civil war.”
Darfur Now’s reason for being is to raise consciousness of genocide in Darfur, yet ignores past genocide itself. The trailer makes this clear, explicitly dating the beginning of the genocide at 2003. Conservatives have criticized Hollywood activists for turning a blind eye to Sudan’s genocidal campaign against Christians, only belatedly stirring to action when the Wahhabist government began its mass murder of the moderate Sunni Muslims of the south. Unfortunately, DN will further support that argument.
While DN’s grasp of history might be lacking, its coverage of celebrity activism is slavishly comprehensive. DN follows six main characters, identified for their efforts to bring positive changes to Darfur. Naturally, co-producer Don Cheadle is one on them. We get to see riveting scenes of Cheadle writing speeches for rallies. More embarrassing, are the home movies shot by Cheadle of his amateur diplomatic trips to China and Egypt with George Clooney on behalf of Darfur. This is basically Entertainment Tonight level stuff.
Of the six primary characters, only two are native to Darfur, but viewers see them the least. Probably the most screen time is given to Adam Sterling, a college student spearheading a campaign for California’s divestiture from Sudan. His budding idealism is admirable, but not great cinema.
Perhaps the most compelling character is Luis Moreno-Ocampo, the International Criminal Court’s prosecutor assigned to crimes against humanity and war crimes in Darfur. After a year and a half investigation, he brought provisional indictments against a high-ranking Sudanese official and a leader of the Islamic Janjaweed militia. In a telling scene, one of Ocampo’s lieutenants asks if Sudan will actually turn over anyone they indict. Another answers with words to the effect of: “of course, eventually they will have to.” Here’s a spoiler: six months after the indictments, it has not happened yet. In fact, one, Ahmad Muhammad Harun, is currently the government official in charge of Darfur refugee camps.
The timing for this film will be interesting. It will be released a week after Jonathan Demme’s hero-worshipping Jimmy Carter Man from Plains documentary hits screens. Of course, Carter recently announced to the world that what is happening in Darfur does not qualify as genocide, just really bad luck. At least, DN’s intentions are noble. Despite the film’s blind spots and weaknesses, it deserves some credit for raising awareness of the very real ongoing tragedy in Darfur. One just wishes this film had been made years earlier, and done better.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
The Spaces In Between
The Spaces In Between
By John Surman
ECM 1956
There is a long tradition of jazz and classical double threats, stretching back to Benny Goodman, who was never known to be intimidated by a clarinet concerto. Coming from a diverse jazz background, including jazz-rock and adventurous big band sessions, John Surman has also composed for classical idioms as well, including his latest collaboration with the Trans4mation string quartet, The Spaces In Between.
The final selection of Spaces, “Leaving the Harrow,” illuminates the pastoral spirit of the session best. Surman describes the inspiration for the composition, a local pub named the Harrow in rural Kent. According to Surman: “the idea for the piece came from leaving there—possibly buoyed up with a couple pints of best bitter—walking home on a beautiful evening in harvest time and the harvest moon was enormous.”
It starts with more of a nocturne, “Moonlighter,” appropriately featuring Surman’s baritone cradled by the string arrangement. There is a distinctly and traditionally English flavor to many of Surman’s compositions, as in “Wayfarers All,” which gives a darker hue to the strings before Surman comes in on Soprano.
Spaces is tightly arranged, but there is some, well, space for individual expression. While there is not a traditional rhythm section, Surman enlisted the talents of bassist Chris Laurence, proficient in both jazz and classical idioms, to maintain a propulsive element and lend his jazz sensibilities to the endeavor.
The title composition is an unaccompanied solo feature for violinist Rita Manning, coming appropriately at the midpoint of Spaces. An austere, challenging piece that does indeed make use of space, “In Between” is the longest composition of the session. It is followed by he shortest, “Now See!,” a spritely English jig of a miniature.
“Mimosa” is the only expression of Surman’s exploration of Eastern music. Originally written for, but not recorded by, his “Thimar” combo, it still gets a nocturnal vibe from Surman’s baritone but the rhythmic arrangement for the strings suggests someplace east of Kent. Spaces concludes with “Leaving the Harrow,” a contemplative vehicle, again for baritone.
Throughout Spaces, Surman’s reeds integrate remarkably well with the strings. The lush combination of baritone and strings is a particularly warm sound that makes one wonder why bari features have not been more popular in classical music. Its unhurried thoughtfulness conveys the pastoral experience to its listeners quite effectively.
By John Surman
ECM 1956
There is a long tradition of jazz and classical double threats, stretching back to Benny Goodman, who was never known to be intimidated by a clarinet concerto. Coming from a diverse jazz background, including jazz-rock and adventurous big band sessions, John Surman has also composed for classical idioms as well, including his latest collaboration with the Trans4mation string quartet, The Spaces In Between.
The final selection of Spaces, “Leaving the Harrow,” illuminates the pastoral spirit of the session best. Surman describes the inspiration for the composition, a local pub named the Harrow in rural Kent. According to Surman: “the idea for the piece came from leaving there—possibly buoyed up with a couple pints of best bitter—walking home on a beautiful evening in harvest time and the harvest moon was enormous.”
It starts with more of a nocturne, “Moonlighter,” appropriately featuring Surman’s baritone cradled by the string arrangement. There is a distinctly and traditionally English flavor to many of Surman’s compositions, as in “Wayfarers All,” which gives a darker hue to the strings before Surman comes in on Soprano.
Spaces is tightly arranged, but there is some, well, space for individual expression. While there is not a traditional rhythm section, Surman enlisted the talents of bassist Chris Laurence, proficient in both jazz and classical idioms, to maintain a propulsive element and lend his jazz sensibilities to the endeavor.
The title composition is an unaccompanied solo feature for violinist Rita Manning, coming appropriately at the midpoint of Spaces. An austere, challenging piece that does indeed make use of space, “In Between” is the longest composition of the session. It is followed by he shortest, “Now See!,” a spritely English jig of a miniature.
“Mimosa” is the only expression of Surman’s exploration of Eastern music. Originally written for, but not recorded by, his “Thimar” combo, it still gets a nocturnal vibe from Surman’s baritone but the rhythmic arrangement for the strings suggests someplace east of Kent. Spaces concludes with “Leaving the Harrow,” a contemplative vehicle, again for baritone.
Throughout Spaces, Surman’s reeds integrate remarkably well with the strings. The lush combination of baritone and strings is a particularly warm sound that makes one wonder why bari features have not been more popular in classical music. Its unhurried thoughtfulness conveys the pastoral experience to its listeners quite effectively.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Impressive Panel
The National Jazz Museum in Harlem deserves credit for putting together the best panel on post-Katrina New Orleans at a jazz event I have yet attended, and I have suffered through many. Typically, they degenerate into a spectacle of Bush Derangement Syndrome, which does not help anyone. However, in a drastic departure from tradition, the Jazz Museum actually presented a panel with some philosophical balance as part of their Jazz for Curious Listeners educational series.
To be sure, there was plenty of Bush bashing, most vociferously from Stanley Crouch. Giving some programming balance was Anthony Napoli of the Gilder Lehrman Institute of American History. Mr. Napoli was not there to defend the Bush administration, but to speak of the Institute’s efforts in New Orleans. Yet, he did mention the Republican roots of his organization’s co-founder, Lewis Lehrman, the philanthropist and gubernatorial candidate who lost a close, hard-fought race against Cuomo in 1982.
In fact, the Gilder Lehrman Institute’s efforts in New Orleans have been considerable. They have worked with two charter schools, one in Algiers, the other near Tulane, restocking their libraries and helping arrange funding for their history departments. They have started special Saturday academies for supplemental instruction in American history, and by extension the basic knowledge students need as college prep. The Institute is even planning to open a special high school in New Orleans focusing on U.S. history. These are all real, tangible efforts on behalf of the city. You would think the Mayor would be interested in their efforts, or at least be willing to meet with them, but evidently not (you can support their efforts here). It is why moderator Loren Schoenberg concluded the panel saying words to the effect that regardless of their politics, everyone on the panel cared about the people of New Orleans. Very refreshing.
In addition to talk, there was also music, from panelist Jonathan Batiste. A New Orleans native, Batiste broke up the discussion with periodic musical selections, including a NOLA flavored “Green Chimneys.” He also doubled on melodic at one point, swinging it hard. (Melodicas seem to be in vogue lately, I’m hearing them much more often.) It was another good programming decision, as music is a major reason why so many care about the city’s fate.
To be sure, there was plenty of Bush bashing, most vociferously from Stanley Crouch. Giving some programming balance was Anthony Napoli of the Gilder Lehrman Institute of American History. Mr. Napoli was not there to defend the Bush administration, but to speak of the Institute’s efforts in New Orleans. Yet, he did mention the Republican roots of his organization’s co-founder, Lewis Lehrman, the philanthropist and gubernatorial candidate who lost a close, hard-fought race against Cuomo in 1982.
In fact, the Gilder Lehrman Institute’s efforts in New Orleans have been considerable. They have worked with two charter schools, one in Algiers, the other near Tulane, restocking their libraries and helping arrange funding for their history departments. They have started special Saturday academies for supplemental instruction in American history, and by extension the basic knowledge students need as college prep. The Institute is even planning to open a special high school in New Orleans focusing on U.S. history. These are all real, tangible efforts on behalf of the city. You would think the Mayor would be interested in their efforts, or at least be willing to meet with them, but evidently not (you can support their efforts here). It is why moderator Loren Schoenberg concluded the panel saying words to the effect that regardless of their politics, everyone on the panel cared about the people of New Orleans. Very refreshing.
In addition to talk, there was also music, from panelist Jonathan Batiste. A New Orleans native, Batiste broke up the discussion with periodic musical selections, including a NOLA flavored “Green Chimneys.” He also doubled on melodic at one point, swinging it hard. (Melodicas seem to be in vogue lately, I’m hearing them much more often.) It was another good programming decision, as music is a major reason why so many care about the city’s fate.
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
Bureaucrats are Bad for Music, Example 5,789
It is the age old complaint: you’re trying to sleep but the local symphony orchestra keeps blaring Mahler. Well, have no fear the EU is here. There has been a flurry of stories recently about the EU is applying noise abatement regulations on symphonies in member-states. It is actually work-place exposure issue rather than a general noise pollution concern, but it is undeniably an instance of government regulations abridging artistic freedom.
The regulations pertain to prolonged exposure, so they can still turn the trumpet section loose occasionally. According to the Guardian, the London Symphony Orchestra started balancing loud and soft in their programs several years ago. Like it or not, many more soft and precious compositions like Satie’s Gymnopédies will be programmed to offset the crowd pleasers that end with a good bang. The EU’s 2002 directive is set to take effect next year, but many orchestra directors remain skeptical. Not surprisingly, the Washington Times reports the Czechs are dubious:
The 1812 Overture would be a little problematic too, not to mention Stravinsky’s Scythians. It also makes one wonder how long before it is applied to other genres as well. After all, free jazz artists can get the decibels up too, and unlike orchestras they tend to play in smaller venues. Visiting artists themselves should not reach the exposure threshold, but what about venue employees?
The Times also quotes bass trombonist Douglas Yeo of the Boston Philharmonic, asking: “Do you need the nanny state to step in and say, ‘No, you cannot play the bass drum fortissimo in the Verdi Requiem?’” It is a good question. Let’s not give Mayor/nanny Bloomberg any ideas. This is New York. Whether jazz or classical, we play loud.
The regulations pertain to prolonged exposure, so they can still turn the trumpet section loose occasionally. According to the Guardian, the London Symphony Orchestra started balancing loud and soft in their programs several years ago. Like it or not, many more soft and precious compositions like Satie’s Gymnopédies will be programmed to offset the crowd pleasers that end with a good bang. The EU’s 2002 directive is set to take effect next year, but many orchestra directors remain skeptical. Not surprisingly, the Washington Times reports the Czechs are dubious:
“It can’t work in symphony orchestras,” said Libor Pesek, conductor of the Prague Symphony. “How could you apply it to Gustav Mahler, for instance, or Richard Strauss?”
The 1812 Overture would be a little problematic too, not to mention Stravinsky’s Scythians. It also makes one wonder how long before it is applied to other genres as well. After all, free jazz artists can get the decibels up too, and unlike orchestras they tend to play in smaller venues. Visiting artists themselves should not reach the exposure threshold, but what about venue employees?
The Times also quotes bass trombonist Douglas Yeo of the Boston Philharmonic, asking: “Do you need the nanny state to step in and say, ‘No, you cannot play the bass drum fortissimo in the Verdi Requiem?’” It is a good question. Let’s not give Mayor/nanny Bloomberg any ideas. This is New York. Whether jazz or classical, we play loud.
Monday, October 08, 2007
Starflowers
StarflowersBy Sinikka Langeland
ECM 1996
Vocalists often get short shrift in jazz, but they have one advantage over instrumentalists—they can communicate a message directly to their audience through the emotional or sentimental qualities of their lyrics. Of course that presupposes listeners understand the vocalist’s language. When this is not the case, the singer’s vocal artistry stands alone, for good or ill. Most likely few American listeners will understand the Norwegian poetry of Hans Børli as interpreted by Finnish Norwegian Sinikka Langeland on Starflowers, but they will easily comprehend the austere, sometimes mystical vibe.
Both native to Finnskogen, the ethnically Finnish South-Eastern forested region of Norway, Langeland has a longstanding affinity for Børli’s poems. They speak of the mysteries of nature, and at least imply a rejection of commercialism. Of the thirteen tracks, the ten vocals each adapt Børli poems, with the balance being instrumentals, all featuring Langeland as a vocalist and an instrumentalist on the zither-like 39-string Finnish Kantele.
“Høstnatt på Fjellskogen,” translated “Autumn Night in the Mountain Woods” sets the tone with Langeland’s relxed kantele and Børli’s atmospheric poetry:
“A dark humming of
subsiding wind
across each moor,
softly swinging sprigs of pine.”
“Den lille fløyten” (The Little Flute), which “makes lonely music in the darkness by the backdoor,” showcases the finely tuned interplay between trumpeter Arve Henriksen and Trygve Seim on tenor. Starflowers has a freshly textured sound thanks to their effective unison lines and the relatively exotic sound of Langeland’s kantele and the tasteful support of bassist Anders Jormin and percussionist Markku Ounaskari.
Although Langeland approaches the material from a traditional folk background, she has her jazz influences (the strongest being Jan Garbarek), and Seim and Henriksen have appeared on many jazz sessions for ECM in the past. That jazz feeling comes through on “Treet som vekser opp-ned” (The Tree That Grows Upside Down), coming close to a traditional swing feeling through Ounaskari’s cymbal work, and featuring an eloquent solo statement from Seim on tenor.
“Sus i myrull” (Whispers in the Cotton Grass) also has a swing-ish feel, with Langeland demonstrating a more percussive attack on kantele and Ounaskari keeping time with brushes. It is jaunty, but also somewhat wistful, as Børli’s poetry confides:
“Life isn’t just
ten thousand plodding steps
towards petty goals.
No, life is rich enough
to be just whispers in the cotton grass . . .”
The so-called ECM sound is probably most pronounced on “Sølv” and “Sølv,” two short instrumental interludes featuring Langeland’s kantele and Jormin’s bass (largely pizzicato on the first and arco on the later), with occasional percussive accents. The third lyric-less selection starts as another impressive showcase Henriksen and Seim until Langeland literally adds her voice to the mix.
Like the kantele, there is something exotic or other-worldly about Langeland’s voice that is difficult to pin-point. When combined with Henriksen’s trumpet and Seim tenor or soprano it makes for an effective blend. That the lyrics are most likely foreign to listeners (though translated in the liner notes) adds an additional layer of mystery to an intriguing session.
Friday, October 05, 2007
Safe and Comfy Banned Books
Independent booksellers are wrapping up the festival of congratulatory back-patting called Banned Books Week. Once again, they decline to recommend any books that have actually been banned in recent memory, instead highlighting “challenged” titles like Harry Potter, represented on both Booksense’s Banned Books Week Top 10 list and the ABFFE’s list of 100 banned or challenged books. If Harry Potter, with tens of millions of copies in print, seriously qualifies as a banned book, every author should be so banned. The hypocrisy was too thick for one indy store, who recently mocked the hoopla for its political correctness.
If booksellers wanted to actually stand up for free expression, instead of building some merchandising around hollow posturing, they would be hand-selling books by authors like Salman Rushdie, who have had fatwas issued against them by Islamic fundamentalist extremists. Indeed, The Satanic Verses would be a novel selection, since it has actually been banned. Of course, recommending legitimately banned books during Banned Books Week, might, you know, offend someone. Better to just push Harry Potter, and pretend you’re standing up to the dark specter of Christian Fundamentalism. Then there would be no consequences to worry about.
If you want to actually support banned books, try hand-selling books by the signatories of the February 2, 2006 manifesto for intellectual freedom published in response to the violent protests surrounding the Danish cartoons. Writers like Rushdie, Ayaan Hirsi Ali, Taslima Nasreen, Mehdi Mozaffari, and Irshad Manji live in constant fear for their lives because their writings have offended the sensibilities of Islamic Fascists. You will also learn a lot more about the price of free expression and the state of the world from their books than from a bubblegum YA fantasy.
(Disclosure: Rushdie and Manji have been published by a corporate cousin of my employer. Their sales have no effect on my duties or compensation.)
If booksellers wanted to actually stand up for free expression, instead of building some merchandising around hollow posturing, they would be hand-selling books by authors like Salman Rushdie, who have had fatwas issued against them by Islamic fundamentalist extremists. Indeed, The Satanic Verses would be a novel selection, since it has actually been banned. Of course, recommending legitimately banned books during Banned Books Week, might, you know, offend someone. Better to just push Harry Potter, and pretend you’re standing up to the dark specter of Christian Fundamentalism. Then there would be no consequences to worry about.
If you want to actually support banned books, try hand-selling books by the signatories of the February 2, 2006 manifesto for intellectual freedom published in response to the violent protests surrounding the Danish cartoons. Writers like Rushdie, Ayaan Hirsi Ali, Taslima Nasreen, Mehdi Mozaffari, and Irshad Manji live in constant fear for their lives because their writings have offended the sensibilities of Islamic Fascists. You will also learn a lot more about the price of free expression and the state of the world from their books than from a bubblegum YA fantasy.
(Disclosure: Rushdie and Manji have been published by a corporate cousin of my employer. Their sales have no effect on my duties or compensation.)
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Opening Soon: Terror’s Advocate
What do Pol Pot, Klaus Barbie, Carlos the Jackal, the Red Army Faction, and the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP) have in common, besides violent ideologies? They had the same attorney: Jacques Vergès, the subject of a new documentary, Terror’s Advocate.
Directed by Barbet Schroeder, Advocate includes extensive interview footage with its cooperative subject and many of his past associates. Vergès gained worldwide notoriety for his defense of the Nazi war criminal Barbie, the Butcher of Lyon, essentially using the proceedings to establish a moral equivalence between Barbie’s crimes and those of French colonialists in Algiers. However, Vergès is a Zelig of evil, turning up with nearly every violent extremist group of the last fifty years.
Advocate presents the framework of a unified theory of collectivist evil, tracing connections between German National Socialism, Communism, and Islamic Fascism. The film sketches out links between Vergès and François Genoud, a Swiss Nazi who became a champion of Palestinian causes, Waddi Haddad of the Maoist PFLP, Johannes Weinrich of the Red Army Faction, and the KGB recruited Carlos the Jackal.
The interrelations between the various factions of terror are fascinating. It is clear from voluminous STASI records that East Germany authorities allowed Carlos and his PFLP and Red Army Faction allies to operate within their country, where Vergès would visit them. They were under constant STASI surveillance, but their operations were not disrupted.
Genoud was converted to the Palestinian cause through his dealings with the Grand Mufti of Jerusalem on behalf of the National Socialists. In 1969 he picked up the tab for Vergès’ defense of the notorious PFLP Zurich El-Al hijackers. Years later, he would underwrite Vergès’ defense of Barbie.
Advocate is strongest when illustrating these alliances between the malignant ideologies of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. It certainly does no favors for the image of France. On one hand, Vergès and his allies pillory France’s record on Algerian, while from the other perspective, we see a feckless Mitterand government kick loose Anis Naccache, a Vergès client convicted of an attempted assassination of a former Shah minister at the Ayatollah’s bequest, for political expediency, in an episode the film dubs the birth of Islamic terrorism against the west (and Vergès was there). (The film’s website is quite helpful providing some crib notes on the various satellites of terror in orbit around Vergès.)
However, the film’s approach to Vergès as an interview subject is not as successful. Schroeder follows the same strategy he employed with his 1969 film on Idi Amin, relying on his subject to damn himself with his own words. What may have worked with a dictator of questionable sanity is far less successful with an experienced (one might say deceptive) trial attorney.
To be sure, Vergès’ words can be absolutely chilling, as when he minimizes the extent of the mass murders committed by his friend Pol Pot. Unfortunately, Vergès is never directly challenged by Schroeder in any of his assertions. Those unfamiliar with the crimes of the Khmer Rouge or the Butcher of Lyon might find his slick evasions convincing, as a result. Consider how many have fallen for Ahmadinejad’s media campaign (and Vergès even gives that audience a variation on the “Bush-is-worse-than-Hitler” line, which of course, the studio put in the trailer).
Vergès is not just deceptive in interview segments, he is also dull. Granted, the advocate may be slick, sophisticated, and smart to be sure, but he is also the personification of the banality of evil. Advocate is fascinating when exposing the world of terror Vergès faithfully serves, but less so when recording his unquestioned dissembling. (It opens October 12 in New York at the Lincoln Plaza.)
Directed by Barbet Schroeder, Advocate includes extensive interview footage with its cooperative subject and many of his past associates. Vergès gained worldwide notoriety for his defense of the Nazi war criminal Barbie, the Butcher of Lyon, essentially using the proceedings to establish a moral equivalence between Barbie’s crimes and those of French colonialists in Algiers. However, Vergès is a Zelig of evil, turning up with nearly every violent extremist group of the last fifty years.
Advocate presents the framework of a unified theory of collectivist evil, tracing connections between German National Socialism, Communism, and Islamic Fascism. The film sketches out links between Vergès and François Genoud, a Swiss Nazi who became a champion of Palestinian causes, Waddi Haddad of the Maoist PFLP, Johannes Weinrich of the Red Army Faction, and the KGB recruited Carlos the Jackal.
The interrelations between the various factions of terror are fascinating. It is clear from voluminous STASI records that East Germany authorities allowed Carlos and his PFLP and Red Army Faction allies to operate within their country, where Vergès would visit them. They were under constant STASI surveillance, but their operations were not disrupted.
Genoud was converted to the Palestinian cause through his dealings with the Grand Mufti of Jerusalem on behalf of the National Socialists. In 1969 he picked up the tab for Vergès’ defense of the notorious PFLP Zurich El-Al hijackers. Years later, he would underwrite Vergès’ defense of Barbie.
Advocate is strongest when illustrating these alliances between the malignant ideologies of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. It certainly does no favors for the image of France. On one hand, Vergès and his allies pillory France’s record on Algerian, while from the other perspective, we see a feckless Mitterand government kick loose Anis Naccache, a Vergès client convicted of an attempted assassination of a former Shah minister at the Ayatollah’s bequest, for political expediency, in an episode the film dubs the birth of Islamic terrorism against the west (and Vergès was there). (The film’s website is quite helpful providing some crib notes on the various satellites of terror in orbit around Vergès.)
However, the film’s approach to Vergès as an interview subject is not as successful. Schroeder follows the same strategy he employed with his 1969 film on Idi Amin, relying on his subject to damn himself with his own words. What may have worked with a dictator of questionable sanity is far less successful with an experienced (one might say deceptive) trial attorney.
To be sure, Vergès’ words can be absolutely chilling, as when he minimizes the extent of the mass murders committed by his friend Pol Pot. Unfortunately, Vergès is never directly challenged by Schroeder in any of his assertions. Those unfamiliar with the crimes of the Khmer Rouge or the Butcher of Lyon might find his slick evasions convincing, as a result. Consider how many have fallen for Ahmadinejad’s media campaign (and Vergès even gives that audience a variation on the “Bush-is-worse-than-Hitler” line, which of course, the studio put in the trailer).
Vergès is not just deceptive in interview segments, he is also dull. Granted, the advocate may be slick, sophisticated, and smart to be sure, but he is also the personification of the banality of evil. Advocate is fascinating when exposing the world of terror Vergès faithfully serves, but less so when recording his unquestioned dissembling. (It opens October 12 in New York at the Lincoln Plaza.)
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
U-Carmen
U-Carmen (e-Khayelitsha)
Produced and Directed by Mark Dornford-Smith
Koch Lorber Films
In addition to its enduring popularity, Georges Bizet’s Carmen has also proved remarkably pliable. For instance, Oscar Hammerstein revamped Bizet’s lyrics for Otto Preminger’s classic film Carmen Jones. Several jazz artists have also interpreted the score, including an underappreciated classic by Barney Kessel. U-Carmen (trailer here), the latest recasting of Bizet’s opera, which shifts the setting to a South African Township and translates the lyrics to Xhosa, is now available on DVD.
U-Carmen was originally developed as a stage production by British-born director Mark Dornford-May for the South African troupe Dimpho Di Kopane (DDK). While the idea of Carmen in Xhosa translation may sound jarring, opera traditionalists will actually be very comfortable with what they hear. There are Xhosa elements in the soundtrack, but by-and-large the orchestrations are traditionally classical. One might expect the linguistic clicks of Xhosa to be distracting, but again Carmen proves to be remarkably elastic.
Pauline Malefane plays Carmen and Andile Tshoni plays her ill-fated policeman lover, Jongi. Both have very impressive voices. One of the biggest tests for U-Carmen is the “Habanera,” and Malefane handles it beautifully. The third (matador) side of the love triangle is largely under-developed, here represented by an expatriate opera singer (often pictured performing in the matador role). Fans of the opera might be disappointed that the “Toreador Song” is not employed as an aria feature for him, instead appearing briefly as a vehicle for the cigarette factory women’s choir in the beginning and late in the film (and as an orchestral background theme).
Perhaps the most joyous music of U-Carmen is the Xhosa chanting celebrating the exiled singer’s homecoming (also heard over the menu titles). It actually makes one wish they had taken more liberties with the music. However, the work that went into the soundtrack was impressive. According to the bonus featurette, the orchestra was 98% South African. Music director Charles Hazelwood explains: “it was a motley bunch of people who had never played together as a unit before, but the upshot of that is it gives the recording of the music for the film a kind of urgency, a kind of danger, because the orchestra was playing, genuinely, like their lives depended on it.”
Even as a lopsided love triangle, most of the elements of Bizet’s opera are recognizably present: the cigarette factory, the barracks, the sick mother, the fortune teller, and the smugglers. While the energy may flag at times, Dornford-May has an impressive eye. It is an interesting attempt to make the old, new again.
Produced and Directed by Mark Dornford-Smith
Koch Lorber Films
In addition to its enduring popularity, Georges Bizet’s Carmen has also proved remarkably pliable. For instance, Oscar Hammerstein revamped Bizet’s lyrics for Otto Preminger’s classic film Carmen Jones. Several jazz artists have also interpreted the score, including an underappreciated classic by Barney Kessel. U-Carmen (trailer here), the latest recasting of Bizet’s opera, which shifts the setting to a South African Township and translates the lyrics to Xhosa, is now available on DVD.
U-Carmen was originally developed as a stage production by British-born director Mark Dornford-May for the South African troupe Dimpho Di Kopane (DDK). While the idea of Carmen in Xhosa translation may sound jarring, opera traditionalists will actually be very comfortable with what they hear. There are Xhosa elements in the soundtrack, but by-and-large the orchestrations are traditionally classical. One might expect the linguistic clicks of Xhosa to be distracting, but again Carmen proves to be remarkably elastic.
Pauline Malefane plays Carmen and Andile Tshoni plays her ill-fated policeman lover, Jongi. Both have very impressive voices. One of the biggest tests for U-Carmen is the “Habanera,” and Malefane handles it beautifully. The third (matador) side of the love triangle is largely under-developed, here represented by an expatriate opera singer (often pictured performing in the matador role). Fans of the opera might be disappointed that the “Toreador Song” is not employed as an aria feature for him, instead appearing briefly as a vehicle for the cigarette factory women’s choir in the beginning and late in the film (and as an orchestral background theme).
Perhaps the most joyous music of U-Carmen is the Xhosa chanting celebrating the exiled singer’s homecoming (also heard over the menu titles). It actually makes one wish they had taken more liberties with the music. However, the work that went into the soundtrack was impressive. According to the bonus featurette, the orchestra was 98% South African. Music director Charles Hazelwood explains: “it was a motley bunch of people who had never played together as a unit before, but the upshot of that is it gives the recording of the music for the film a kind of urgency, a kind of danger, because the orchestra was playing, genuinely, like their lives depended on it.”
Even as a lopsided love triangle, most of the elements of Bizet’s opera are recognizably present: the cigarette factory, the barracks, the sick mother, the fortune teller, and the smugglers. While the energy may flag at times, Dornford-May has an impressive eye. It is an interesting attempt to make the old, new again.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
IFP: A Girl and a Gun
There were some interesting looking documentaries addressing topical issues at last months IFP, and some that looked dreadful. I refrained from posting on them, because for films of that nature really need to be screened in their entirety. There were promising films on Afghanistan, but without the full story, it is hard to pass judgment on ultimately how compelling the narrative is and how fairly the subjects were treated by the filmmakers. I do want to catch up with one topical film, A Girl and a Gun, which delves into the relatively unexplored topic of women gun-owners.
Based on the twenty minutes screened Gun does not fall back on stereotypes or tired party lines. One woman we meet is a social worker who probably looks to the world like a typical Upper Westside liberal (in truth her politics were not revealed in the clip), who happens to be a recreational shooter. She herself seems somewhat surprised by the apparent contradiction in her lifestyle. We a gun magazine professional say something gun-nutty one minute, and then something insightful the next. We briefly meet two mothers, one who campaigns against handguns, the other who used a handgun to protect her daughter.
From the brief screening, Gun seems to be fair to its interview subjects and nuanced in its approach to the issues of gun rights. Predictably, this hilariously provoked many in its first screening, who found it “biased” for not uniformly conforming to their prejudices.
Again, it is impossible to pass judgment on just twenty minutes of film, but in this case of A Girl and a Gun (trailer here), it was sufficient to demonstrate great potential. I am definitely looking forward to seeing the finished film.
Based on the twenty minutes screened Gun does not fall back on stereotypes or tired party lines. One woman we meet is a social worker who probably looks to the world like a typical Upper Westside liberal (in truth her politics were not revealed in the clip), who happens to be a recreational shooter. She herself seems somewhat surprised by the apparent contradiction in her lifestyle. We a gun magazine professional say something gun-nutty one minute, and then something insightful the next. We briefly meet two mothers, one who campaigns against handguns, the other who used a handgun to protect her daughter.
From the brief screening, Gun seems to be fair to its interview subjects and nuanced in its approach to the issues of gun rights. Predictably, this hilariously provoked many in its first screening, who found it “biased” for not uniformly conforming to their prejudices.
Again, it is impossible to pass judgment on just twenty minutes of film, but in this case of A Girl and a Gun (trailer here), it was sufficient to demonstrate great potential. I am definitely looking forward to seeing the finished film.
Monday, October 01, 2007
Celia the Musical
The recent track record of Broadway jukebox musicals has been mixed, from the highly successful Jersey Boys to the short-lived Ring of Fire. Although New World Stages technically qualifies as Off-Broadway, it is very Broadway-like in the commercial nature of its productions. Their new entry into jukebox musical market, Celia: the Life and Music of Celia Cruz, which opened the 26th, succeeds largely due to its honesty and its faithfulness to her music.Singing the songs of Cruz is Xiomara Laugart, and she is a natural fit for the role. Clearly, she can identify with the dramatic events of Cruz’s life, having, as the NY Daily News reports: “defected to the U.S. almost a decade ago without a penny in her pocket or a command of the English language, yet managed to resume her career and build a new life.” Laugart has a strong voice and demonstrates an affinity for the repertoire, including most of the favorite hits from Cruz’s career, including: “Quimbara,” “Guantanamera,” and “Yo Viviré (I Will Survive)”. She really is a powerful vocalist who wins over the audience immediately.
Laugart is supported by a fantastic Latin combo, seated on stage Chicago-style, up from the pit. They even get a wardrobe change during intermission, from tuxedos appropriate to the pre-revolutionary clubs of Havana, to seventies style flora prints.
Led by Isidro Infante, a veteran of bands led by Cruz, Tito Puente, and Machito, the Celia combo sounds like a much larger group than their seven pieces. As the orchestrator and musical director, he gets the music right. Percussionists Luisito and Robert Quintero, who have recorded with the Caribbean Jazz Project, keep a strong rhythmic pulse going. At one point, Luisito Quintero channels Tito Puente, showing off the drumstick-around-the-head orison. Unfortunately, Nelson Gonzalez’s tres is largely overwhelmed in the mix, as he has a very tasteful, but all too brief solo that left one wanting to hear more.
The drama is largely supplied by Modesto Lacén as Cruz’s widower husband Pedro Knight, telling his nurse (recording artist Pedro Capó) about life with his beloved Celia. It is basically a narrative framing device to keep the musical numbers in context, but Lacén’s Knight is still touching at times. Capó has some impressive numbers, and a few effective dramatic moments with Lacén, as well. Also, Wilson Mendieta’s depiction of Johnny Pacheco and his exuberant conducting style should amuse salsa fans.
To its credit, Celia the musical deals with the realities of the Castro regime and Cruz’s resulting exile directly and forthrightly. The book by Carmen Rivera & Candido Tirado makes it clear there would be no artistic freedom in Cuba after 1959. We see the corruption and arbitrary abuses of power from party bureaucrats and the suffering inflicted on musicians like Cruz and Knight. In one of the musical’s heaviest dramatic episodes, Celia portrays the pain Cruz felt when she was unable to attend her mother’s funeral due to Castro’s banishment decree.
Celia is well staged, nicely capturing the excitement of major events like the Fania All-Stars concert at Yankee Stadium. It deftly handles the trials of Cruz’s life, without dampening the joy of the music. There are only two English language performances each week—Saturdays at 5:00 and Sundays at 7:00. I attended the Saturday show, and if it representative of other shows, one can expect to feel a real collective spirit in an audience eager to express its love for Cruz (New World Stages also sells Sangria in the theater, which does not hurt the good vibe). Celia is an entertaining show that moves along at a good clip and features a great musical performance by Laugart in the title role. Her fans won’t be disappointed, and the music of Celia Cruz should win over anyone with open ears. (Read Val's reaction and his personal reflections on Celia Cruz here.)
Friday, September 28, 2007
Opening Next Week: Desert Bayou
There is an impending bumper crop of Katrina related documentaries in the works. Four had screenings at this year’s IFP marketplace (the most promising I saw was Talkin’ Water). Inevitably that raises the stakes for each film to distinguish itself from the pack. Desert Bayou (trailer here), Alex LeMay’s documentary about a group of Katrina evacuees finding shelter in the unlikely environment of Utah, has interesting moments, but falls short of its ambitions.
Bayou follows a group of NOLA residents, focusing on two particular men who we learn as the film progresses, brought their personal demons with them, compounding the difficulties they face in Katrina’s wake. Right from the start, Bayou wants to frame the story in divisive racial terms: evacuees vs. Utah. The filmmakers are right to decry mistreatment during the evacuation. Surely the New Orleanians should have been told where they were going when they were whisked onto the plane to Salt Lake City. Outrageously, adding indignity to their injuries, they were frisked for contraband as they disembarked from the plane.
However, there is much made of the fact that they were initially housed at the National Guard’s Camp Williams instead of a downtown hotel, offered to imply racism on the part of the people of Utah. Though no holiday to be sure, this complaint seems to be a bit of a stretch. Those displaced by Hurricanes are usually temporarily housed in Red Cross or Salvation Army shelters. The permanent facilities of Camp Williams may have actually been better accommodations than those shelters. Military bases were also designated as shelters in Texas during Hurricane Rita, so the experience was not unique to the Utah evacuees.
One of the intriguing aspects of the film that went under-developed was the relationship between the evacuees and the base commander, Col. Scot Olsen. He seems to be a stereotypical hardnosed military man, whose on-camera explanation of the curfew he established makes no sense whatsoever. However, Rabbi Shmuley Boteach, who is often highly critical of the handling of the NOLA residents, seems to be quite sincere when he compliments the Colonel for the rapport he developed with his guests. Understanding those relationships better would have helped put the entire Camp Williams interlude into clearer focus.
Too often the film seems to be more interested in scoring cheap points against Utah in general and Mormons in particular. It seems clear that a handful of man-on-the-street interviews were cherry-picked towards this end. Most problematic is the inclusion of a late middle-age woman whose mental grasp of the situation appears questionable. Her statements can hardly be considered indicative of anyone beyond herself, and her inclusion comes off as exploitative.
Bayou recounts the admittedly embarrassing history of the Mormon Church on racial equality. Again though, it overstates things a tad, labeling Joseph Smith an anti-Abolitionist, when, for what it’s worth, his views evidently evolved to Abolitionism. Bayou also makes much of what the narrator calls the “unorthodox doctrines” of the LDS, but again seems to overstate things when belittling their belief in “continuing revelation” through Church prophets, which does not sound so far removed from Catholic belief in Papal Infallibility (and of course, the Catholic Church has a strong presence New Orleans).
There are some moving scenes with the two primary evacuees profiled, that illustrate the impact the past continues to have on the present. One struggles to overcome his history as an ex-con. The other grapples with drug addiction. Both decide to try to build a new life for their families in Utah, evidently with varying degrees of success. It seems the film grudgingly concedes that maybe the people of Utah are not so bad after all, as 100 of the 600 evacuees decide to put down permanent roots there.
Ultimately, there are too many talking heads in Bayou, and not enough dramatic payoffs with its central characters. It makes some very legitimate complaints, but undermines its integrity as a documentary with its heavy-handed biases. Considering how extensive the Katrina filmography will be, Bayou just seems a little slight, like a padded episode of Frontline, but for those who follow events in New Orleans closely, it opens here in New York at the Village East next Friday (10/5).
Bayou follows a group of NOLA residents, focusing on two particular men who we learn as the film progresses, brought their personal demons with them, compounding the difficulties they face in Katrina’s wake. Right from the start, Bayou wants to frame the story in divisive racial terms: evacuees vs. Utah. The filmmakers are right to decry mistreatment during the evacuation. Surely the New Orleanians should have been told where they were going when they were whisked onto the plane to Salt Lake City. Outrageously, adding indignity to their injuries, they were frisked for contraband as they disembarked from the plane.
However, there is much made of the fact that they were initially housed at the National Guard’s Camp Williams instead of a downtown hotel, offered to imply racism on the part of the people of Utah. Though no holiday to be sure, this complaint seems to be a bit of a stretch. Those displaced by Hurricanes are usually temporarily housed in Red Cross or Salvation Army shelters. The permanent facilities of Camp Williams may have actually been better accommodations than those shelters. Military bases were also designated as shelters in Texas during Hurricane Rita, so the experience was not unique to the Utah evacuees.
One of the intriguing aspects of the film that went under-developed was the relationship between the evacuees and the base commander, Col. Scot Olsen. He seems to be a stereotypical hardnosed military man, whose on-camera explanation of the curfew he established makes no sense whatsoever. However, Rabbi Shmuley Boteach, who is often highly critical of the handling of the NOLA residents, seems to be quite sincere when he compliments the Colonel for the rapport he developed with his guests. Understanding those relationships better would have helped put the entire Camp Williams interlude into clearer focus.
Too often the film seems to be more interested in scoring cheap points against Utah in general and Mormons in particular. It seems clear that a handful of man-on-the-street interviews were cherry-picked towards this end. Most problematic is the inclusion of a late middle-age woman whose mental grasp of the situation appears questionable. Her statements can hardly be considered indicative of anyone beyond herself, and her inclusion comes off as exploitative.
Bayou recounts the admittedly embarrassing history of the Mormon Church on racial equality. Again though, it overstates things a tad, labeling Joseph Smith an anti-Abolitionist, when, for what it’s worth, his views evidently evolved to Abolitionism. Bayou also makes much of what the narrator calls the “unorthodox doctrines” of the LDS, but again seems to overstate things when belittling their belief in “continuing revelation” through Church prophets, which does not sound so far removed from Catholic belief in Papal Infallibility (and of course, the Catholic Church has a strong presence New Orleans).
There are some moving scenes with the two primary evacuees profiled, that illustrate the impact the past continues to have on the present. One struggles to overcome his history as an ex-con. The other grapples with drug addiction. Both decide to try to build a new life for their families in Utah, evidently with varying degrees of success. It seems the film grudgingly concedes that maybe the people of Utah are not so bad after all, as 100 of the 600 evacuees decide to put down permanent roots there.
Ultimately, there are too many talking heads in Bayou, and not enough dramatic payoffs with its central characters. It makes some very legitimate complaints, but undermines its integrity as a documentary with its heavy-handed biases. Considering how extensive the Katrina filmography will be, Bayou just seems a little slight, like a padded episode of Frontline, but for those who follow events in New Orleans closely, it opens here in New York at the Village East next Friday (10/5).
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Tonolo, Goldstein, Swallow, Motian, and John
Your Songs: The Music of Elton John
Pietro Tonolo, Gil Goldstein, Steve Swallow, Paul Motian
ObliqSound (OS 506)
Timing is critical in jazz, but sometimes it involves factors beyond one’s control. Given the bad publicity Elton John has had this week it might not seem to be the best time to release a set of interpretations of his tunes. However, Pietro Tonolo and his all-star rhythm section have reinvented the material so effectively on Your Songs: the Music of Elton John, it is easy to lose track of the original songwriter, and enjoy the music on its own merits.
With Paul Motian on drums and Steve Swallow on electric bass, time certainly is not a problem for Your Songs. Gil Goldstein might be better known as an arranger with an understanding of pop, having worked with likes of John himself and Chris Botti, but he has also been a well regarded faculty member in NYU’s jazz department. Here he shows a nimble, boppish touch on the piano.
As for the leader, Tonolo’s solos are consistently inventive, as are the arrangements. A song like “Tiny Dancer” unfolds gradually as a rich vehicle for Tonolo’s tenor, exploring the catchy melody without any of the cloyingness that John’s music is susceptible to. When Goldstein shifts to accordion it adds rich texture to the tune.
Of the Elton John songs chosen, perhaps “Rocket Man” is the most recognizable. Wisely, they avoided most of the pop star’s more over-played hits, like “I’m Still Standing” or (Heaven forbid) “Candle in the Wind.” As for “Rocket” it is played fairly straight, but there are interesting solo statements from Tonolo on tenor, Swallow, and Goldstein.
“Your Song,” the sort of title track, has another strong arrangement, with a very effective intro from Swallow, before the full rhythm section falls in. Goldstein takes an elegant turn before Tonolo finally enters on soprano. Throughout, they respect the melody, but give it a distinctly fresh interpretation.
On the ballad “The One,” Motian’s shimmering cymbals and a surprisingly lyrical solo from Tonolo make it a track both John fans and jazz purists could relate to. The following “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” is taken as an up-tempo swinger, more for the latter audience.
Your Songs concludes with two “inspired by” originals from Tonolo. “White Street” and the brief “Epilogue: Semifonte” do suggest his talent for composing intriguing melodies, wrapping up things nicely.
Your Songs is the kind of session that demonstrates how one genre of music can feed into another. Tonolo is a former classical violinist, turned jazz saxophonist, recording the songs of a pop star, who now composes for Broadway. Fortunately, it all works. Tonolo and his colleagues seem to have a real affinity for the material, and succeed in putting their own stamp on it.
Pietro Tonolo, Gil Goldstein, Steve Swallow, Paul Motian
ObliqSound (OS 506)
Timing is critical in jazz, but sometimes it involves factors beyond one’s control. Given the bad publicity Elton John has had this week it might not seem to be the best time to release a set of interpretations of his tunes. However, Pietro Tonolo and his all-star rhythm section have reinvented the material so effectively on Your Songs: the Music of Elton John, it is easy to lose track of the original songwriter, and enjoy the music on its own merits.
With Paul Motian on drums and Steve Swallow on electric bass, time certainly is not a problem for Your Songs. Gil Goldstein might be better known as an arranger with an understanding of pop, having worked with likes of John himself and Chris Botti, but he has also been a well regarded faculty member in NYU’s jazz department. Here he shows a nimble, boppish touch on the piano.
As for the leader, Tonolo’s solos are consistently inventive, as are the arrangements. A song like “Tiny Dancer” unfolds gradually as a rich vehicle for Tonolo’s tenor, exploring the catchy melody without any of the cloyingness that John’s music is susceptible to. When Goldstein shifts to accordion it adds rich texture to the tune.
Of the Elton John songs chosen, perhaps “Rocket Man” is the most recognizable. Wisely, they avoided most of the pop star’s more over-played hits, like “I’m Still Standing” or (Heaven forbid) “Candle in the Wind.” As for “Rocket” it is played fairly straight, but there are interesting solo statements from Tonolo on tenor, Swallow, and Goldstein.
“Your Song,” the sort of title track, has another strong arrangement, with a very effective intro from Swallow, before the full rhythm section falls in. Goldstein takes an elegant turn before Tonolo finally enters on soprano. Throughout, they respect the melody, but give it a distinctly fresh interpretation.
On the ballad “The One,” Motian’s shimmering cymbals and a surprisingly lyrical solo from Tonolo make it a track both John fans and jazz purists could relate to. The following “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” is taken as an up-tempo swinger, more for the latter audience.
Your Songs concludes with two “inspired by” originals from Tonolo. “White Street” and the brief “Epilogue: Semifonte” do suggest his talent for composing intriguing melodies, wrapping up things nicely.
Your Songs is the kind of session that demonstrates how one genre of music can feed into another. Tonolo is a former classical violinist, turned jazz saxophonist, recording the songs of a pop star, who now composes for Broadway. Fortunately, it all works. Tonolo and his colleagues seem to have a real affinity for the material, and succeed in putting their own stamp on it.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Jazz Diplomacy
“I’m the real ambassador
It was evident I was sent by government to take your place
All I do is play the blues and meet the people face to face
I’ll explain and make it plain; I represent the human race and don’t pretend to more”
Those were among the lyrics delivered by Louis Armstrong, “Ambassador Satch,” in Dave Brubeck’s original musical The Real Ambassadors. Set against the backdrop of the U.S. State Department’s popular jazz goodwill programs, Armstrong plays one such touring musician, mistaken for an actual bureaucratic Ambassador as represented by Lambert, Hendricks, and Ross ( singing lyrics like: “we have followed protocol with absolute propriety, we’re Yankees to the core”).
The obvious implication was a jazz musician could influence many more hearts and minds abroad than a state department functionary. What was true in the 1960’s is true today. Enter the organization American Voices, plugged in this month’s Jazz Times. David Adler’s guest column quotes Dr. Gene Aitken, a jazz instructor for the organization, who had recently conducted clinics in Iraq:
“It was the experience of a lifetime,” Aitken exclaims. There were roughly 50 jazz students, ranging from 15 to 50 years of age. “They had barely any previous exposure to jazz,” Aitken says, “but they had a thirst for information, and the progress from day one to the end was tremendous. I’ve never encountered anything as meaningful.”
In February of this year, the group produced workshops and a concert with the Iraqi National Symphony Orchestra, culminating in orchestral performances of Duke Ellington’s “Sophisticated Lady” and “It Don’t Mean a Thing If It Ain’t Got That Swing.” In JT Ferguson attributes why jazz (about 25% of their programming) has proved such a successful component in their presentations: “People who have close contact with traditional music take to jazz very easily.” Their Unity Performing Arts Academy, at which Aitken taught this July, proved the universal appeal of jazz and other American forms of music, successfully bringing together 300 musicians from around Iraq, including Kurdistan, representing Shiites, Sunnis, and Christians to form a special Unity Orchestra.
American Voices has been active in Afghanistan as well, producing in late 2005 the first concert by American artists in twenty-five years, performing in collaboration with native musicians. Executive director John Ferguson explained to Downbeat magazine: “The musicians we were working with had all gone to Pakistan during the Taliban era because they were chopping off the hands of musicians in Afghanistan.”
One could argue that jazz’s free spirit and democratic nature are also very appealing to a formerly oppressed people. After all, Willis Conover’s jazz program Music USA was by far the most popular programming on Voice of America during the Cold War. American Voices are finding a similar desire for what jazz represents in their current work in the Middle East and beyond.
It was evident I was sent by government to take your place
All I do is play the blues and meet the people face to face
I’ll explain and make it plain; I represent the human race and don’t pretend to more”
Those were among the lyrics delivered by Louis Armstrong, “Ambassador Satch,” in Dave Brubeck’s original musical The Real Ambassadors. Set against the backdrop of the U.S. State Department’s popular jazz goodwill programs, Armstrong plays one such touring musician, mistaken for an actual bureaucratic Ambassador as represented by Lambert, Hendricks, and Ross ( singing lyrics like: “we have followed protocol with absolute propriety, we’re Yankees to the core”).
The obvious implication was a jazz musician could influence many more hearts and minds abroad than a state department functionary. What was true in the 1960’s is true today. Enter the organization American Voices, plugged in this month’s Jazz Times. David Adler’s guest column quotes Dr. Gene Aitken, a jazz instructor for the organization, who had recently conducted clinics in Iraq:
“It was the experience of a lifetime,” Aitken exclaims. There were roughly 50 jazz students, ranging from 15 to 50 years of age. “They had barely any previous exposure to jazz,” Aitken says, “but they had a thirst for information, and the progress from day one to the end was tremendous. I’ve never encountered anything as meaningful.”
In February of this year, the group produced workshops and a concert with the Iraqi National Symphony Orchestra, culminating in orchestral performances of Duke Ellington’s “Sophisticated Lady” and “It Don’t Mean a Thing If It Ain’t Got That Swing.” In JT Ferguson attributes why jazz (about 25% of their programming) has proved such a successful component in their presentations: “People who have close contact with traditional music take to jazz very easily.” Their Unity Performing Arts Academy, at which Aitken taught this July, proved the universal appeal of jazz and other American forms of music, successfully bringing together 300 musicians from around Iraq, including Kurdistan, representing Shiites, Sunnis, and Christians to form a special Unity Orchestra.
American Voices has been active in Afghanistan as well, producing in late 2005 the first concert by American artists in twenty-five years, performing in collaboration with native musicians. Executive director John Ferguson explained to Downbeat magazine: “The musicians we were working with had all gone to Pakistan during the Taliban era because they were chopping off the hands of musicians in Afghanistan.”
One could argue that jazz’s free spirit and democratic nature are also very appealing to a formerly oppressed people. After all, Willis Conover’s jazz program Music USA was by far the most popular programming on Voice of America during the Cold War. American Voices are finding a similar desire for what jazz represents in their current work in the Middle East and beyond.
Clearly, this is an organization worthy of support. In addition to producing clinics and concerts, they also supply local musicians with instruments and charts. Their efforts obviously qualify as good news from Iraq, at a time when many wish to deny any such thing is possible for their own extremist partisan motives. You can support American Voices’ efforts here, and check out some of their work on youtube here.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
K-Ville Blues
The producers of Fox’s K-Ville deserve credit for filming in New Orleans. They certainly could have gone elsewhere, but they made the choice to help stimulate the local economy. However, with that said, based on the first two episodes, one wonders how long those K-Ville film crews will be around (pilot available here or for free download on itunes).
Granted television shows need time to develop their characters and the chemistry between its actors. However, from what was seen in the first two episodes, in K-Ville both are standard, at best. Billed as a hard-hitting crime series informed by the reality of life in post-Katrina NOLA, K-Ville is in actuality, disappointingly generic.
There is much going on in New Orleans that would make for riveting drama. The criminal justice system is in shambles. Recently, Democrat D.A. Eddie Jordan lost his second appeal in a racial discrimination lawsuit brought by former white employees of his office. One experienced forensics expert charged (successfully) that he was replaced by a candidate who “had little experience other than being a lifeguard and doing some office work at a law firm.”
What would have simply been an expensive tab for NOLA taxpayers (Jordan is not personally on the hook for the judgment) has taken on tragic dimensions for the city, as Jordan has proved incapable of prosecuting cases in a timely manner. Under Louisiana criminal codes, the state must file an indictment sixty days after arrest, or kick loose the accused. Under Jordan there were almost 3,000 so-called 701 releases (named for the applicable article of the code) in 2006.
It is not surprising the level of mistrust that has built up between the police and the DA’s office as a result. To make matters worse, drug gangs are relocating to city, recognizing the greener pastures afforded by prosecutorial incompetence. The dramatic possibilities of such a situation are rich. From departmental tensions, to the temptation to extract vigilante justice to circumvent the DA’s revolving prison door, K-Ville has the raw material to make The Shield look like Inspector Gadget.
Instead, K-Ville simply recycles a rogues’ gallery of left wing bogeymen du jour. In the first episode, the greatest danger facing the city is not the proliferation of drug dealers and their attendant turf battles, but a politically connected group of vigilantes obviously based on Blackwater. In episode two, it turns out that actually too many people are going to jail in New Orleans (a flat out insulting contention to New Orleans citizens protesting in hopes of making their streets safer), to provide prison labor for a corrupt warden and, of course, an evil corporation.
Rather than get to the heart of post-Katrina issues, K-Ville has been content in its first two episodes to fall back on tired liberal Hollywood clichés, in effect ignoring the facts on the ground. The direction is actually quite strong, and the production values look high. Dr. John performs on the theme song, which is cool. However, mediocrity would be an ambitious goal based on what has been seen so far. That is a shame. K-Ville is missing an opportunity for some powerful television.
Granted television shows need time to develop their characters and the chemistry between its actors. However, from what was seen in the first two episodes, in K-Ville both are standard, at best. Billed as a hard-hitting crime series informed by the reality of life in post-Katrina NOLA, K-Ville is in actuality, disappointingly generic.
There is much going on in New Orleans that would make for riveting drama. The criminal justice system is in shambles. Recently, Democrat D.A. Eddie Jordan lost his second appeal in a racial discrimination lawsuit brought by former white employees of his office. One experienced forensics expert charged (successfully) that he was replaced by a candidate who “had little experience other than being a lifeguard and doing some office work at a law firm.”
What would have simply been an expensive tab for NOLA taxpayers (Jordan is not personally on the hook for the judgment) has taken on tragic dimensions for the city, as Jordan has proved incapable of prosecuting cases in a timely manner. Under Louisiana criminal codes, the state must file an indictment sixty days after arrest, or kick loose the accused. Under Jordan there were almost 3,000 so-called 701 releases (named for the applicable article of the code) in 2006.
It is not surprising the level of mistrust that has built up between the police and the DA’s office as a result. To make matters worse, drug gangs are relocating to city, recognizing the greener pastures afforded by prosecutorial incompetence. The dramatic possibilities of such a situation are rich. From departmental tensions, to the temptation to extract vigilante justice to circumvent the DA’s revolving prison door, K-Ville has the raw material to make The Shield look like Inspector Gadget.
Instead, K-Ville simply recycles a rogues’ gallery of left wing bogeymen du jour. In the first episode, the greatest danger facing the city is not the proliferation of drug dealers and their attendant turf battles, but a politically connected group of vigilantes obviously based on Blackwater. In episode two, it turns out that actually too many people are going to jail in New Orleans (a flat out insulting contention to New Orleans citizens protesting in hopes of making their streets safer), to provide prison labor for a corrupt warden and, of course, an evil corporation.
Rather than get to the heart of post-Katrina issues, K-Ville has been content in its first two episodes to fall back on tired liberal Hollywood clichés, in effect ignoring the facts on the ground. The direction is actually quite strong, and the production values look high. Dr. John performs on the theme song, which is cool. However, mediocrity would be an ambitious goal based on what has been seen so far. That is a shame. K-Ville is missing an opportunity for some powerful television.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Les Paul: Still Chasing Sound
Les Paul: Chasing Sound
Directed by John Paulson
Koch Vision
Hip New Yorkers look forward to Monday nights. With both teams at 1-2, it’s not for football. Guitar innovator Les Paul has held a long-term Monday night residency at the Iridium, transforming a traditionally slow club night into their busiest (usually) of the week. Profiled as part of PBS’ American Masters series in July, Les Paul: Chasing Sound is now available on DVD, with notable bonus footage.
Paul has worked as a musician of the highest order in jazz, pop, and country genres, but perhaps his greatest contribution was an innovator, pioneering the use of multi-tracking, over-dubbing, and the solid body electric guitar. Paulson’s documentary shows Paul as an amiable artist, enjoying his lofty position as the beloved father of the electric guitar. Reviewing Chasing before it aired I wrote:
"Wisely, Paul is the dominant voice of Chasing, in interview segments and performance clips. We also hear from figures like Gary Giddins, Bucky Pizzarelli, Kay Starr, Tony Bennett, B.B. King, and Johnny Frigo. . . Throughout the film, Paul comes off as a likeable, witty individual. Ultimately, Chasing is as much a tribute to Paul’s continuing longevity, still playing at a highly accomplished level every Monday night at age 92, as it is to his audio innovations. It is well worth catching."
Chasing is still entertaining on second viewing. Paul’s humor and charm come through clearly, even more so when you watch the extensive bonus performance footage, as when he reacts in mock horror when Steve Miller (his god-son) pulls out a Fender (Paul of course is the original designer of Gibson’s solid body Les Paul, called: “by far, the most successful endorsement relationship ever in the history of musical instruments”).
A predictable complaint with docs about musicians at this blog is the frequent lack of complete, unedited musical performances. After all, is not that what their subjects are really all about? The extras here rectify that handsomely, including one of his Iridium sets (celebrating his birthday), featuring an array of guests sitting-in, including a blues with Miller and a very tasty, finger-picking duet with Tommy Emmanuel on “Blue Moon.”
We also see some of the musical features from his television show Les Paul and Mary Ford At Home (1953-1960), sponsored by Listerine (there ought to be another DVD release there, if not a complete set, there should be plenty of highlights to collect). Also of interest are expanded interview segments, covering Paul’s love of jazz, and the reaction to his first electric guitar, which actually occurred during his time with Fred Waring.
The greatest aspect of Chasing is the extent to which it captures Paul’s personality. Most would be happy to be as witty and spry as Paul at 92, let alone have the chops for a weekly gig. Collecting Chasing with a choice Iridium set, archival film footage, and rare film of Paul duets with the likes of Keith Richards and Chet Atkins, makes this great viewing for anyone who ever strummed an electric guitar. After all, they could not have done it without him.
Directed by John Paulson
Koch Vision
Hip New Yorkers look forward to Monday nights. With both teams at 1-2, it’s not for football. Guitar innovator Les Paul has held a long-term Monday night residency at the Iridium, transforming a traditionally slow club night into their busiest (usually) of the week. Profiled as part of PBS’ American Masters series in July, Les Paul: Chasing Sound is now available on DVD, with notable bonus footage.
Paul has worked as a musician of the highest order in jazz, pop, and country genres, but perhaps his greatest contribution was an innovator, pioneering the use of multi-tracking, over-dubbing, and the solid body electric guitar. Paulson’s documentary shows Paul as an amiable artist, enjoying his lofty position as the beloved father of the electric guitar. Reviewing Chasing before it aired I wrote:
"Wisely, Paul is the dominant voice of Chasing, in interview segments and performance clips. We also hear from figures like Gary Giddins, Bucky Pizzarelli, Kay Starr, Tony Bennett, B.B. King, and Johnny Frigo. . . Throughout the film, Paul comes off as a likeable, witty individual. Ultimately, Chasing is as much a tribute to Paul’s continuing longevity, still playing at a highly accomplished level every Monday night at age 92, as it is to his audio innovations. It is well worth catching."
Chasing is still entertaining on second viewing. Paul’s humor and charm come through clearly, even more so when you watch the extensive bonus performance footage, as when he reacts in mock horror when Steve Miller (his god-son) pulls out a Fender (Paul of course is the original designer of Gibson’s solid body Les Paul, called: “by far, the most successful endorsement relationship ever in the history of musical instruments”).
A predictable complaint with docs about musicians at this blog is the frequent lack of complete, unedited musical performances. After all, is not that what their subjects are really all about? The extras here rectify that handsomely, including one of his Iridium sets (celebrating his birthday), featuring an array of guests sitting-in, including a blues with Miller and a very tasty, finger-picking duet with Tommy Emmanuel on “Blue Moon.”
We also see some of the musical features from his television show Les Paul and Mary Ford At Home (1953-1960), sponsored by Listerine (there ought to be another DVD release there, if not a complete set, there should be plenty of highlights to collect). Also of interest are expanded interview segments, covering Paul’s love of jazz, and the reaction to his first electric guitar, which actually occurred during his time with Fred Waring.
The greatest aspect of Chasing is the extent to which it captures Paul’s personality. Most would be happy to be as witty and spry as Paul at 92, let alone have the chops for a weekly gig. Collecting Chasing with a choice Iridium set, archival film footage, and rare film of Paul duets with the likes of Keith Richards and Chet Atkins, makes this great viewing for anyone who ever strummed an electric guitar. After all, they could not have done it without him.
Friday, September 21, 2007
IFP: Hot Flash
Blues artists usually are not considered good human interest stories by the media, but Saffire—"the Uppity Women of the Blues," were obviously different. They received a lot of attention for being a multi-racial trio of late middle-age women, who happened to be blues musicians. To Bruce Iglauer of Alligator Records, they were blues musicians first and foremost, who would become one of the top selling acts on his label. Their career trajectory is traced out in Hot Flash, an entertaining a short documentary (39 minutes) screened at IFP, which takes its name from one of Saffire’s best regarded recordings (clip here).
Despite their blues chops, Saffire built a large following outside traditional blues circles, based on their message of empowerment for women. They also have a flare for ribald humor, following in the venerable tradition of Bessie Smith and Ma Rainey. (If you can’t pick up on what they are singing about in a tune like “Silver Beaver,” I don’t know what to tell you.)
Iglauer signed them simply because he enjoyed their demo, and thought he could do maybe a tad better than break even on their record. It surprised him by becoming a breakout hit (by blues standards). One of the intriguing things about the film is that it comes at a time when their commercial reception is cooling. According to Iglauer, they have cut back on touring due to family concerns, which has had a discernable effect on their sale of CDs. Iglauer frankly states he is unsure if Alligator can continue to record the group. One can hope that the film will generate publicity for Saffire and keep them profitably under contract for some label. As viewers see in the film, they are talented, legit blues artists.
Briskly directed by Sarah Knight, Hot Flash covers a great deal in a short period. My only complaint is one I have with many musical documentaries—there are no complete musical performances shown in their entirety, unedited and not drowned out by off-camera interview subjects. After all, their music is the most important part of their story and at least one full tune would give audiences a feel for attending their shows.
Saffire has a story worth hearing, and Hot Flash tells it with economy and humor. As is the case with Saffire’s music, the film should have an appeal well beyond the traditional blues audience.
Despite their blues chops, Saffire built a large following outside traditional blues circles, based on their message of empowerment for women. They also have a flare for ribald humor, following in the venerable tradition of Bessie Smith and Ma Rainey. (If you can’t pick up on what they are singing about in a tune like “Silver Beaver,” I don’t know what to tell you.)
Iglauer signed them simply because he enjoyed their demo, and thought he could do maybe a tad better than break even on their record. It surprised him by becoming a breakout hit (by blues standards). One of the intriguing things about the film is that it comes at a time when their commercial reception is cooling. According to Iglauer, they have cut back on touring due to family concerns, which has had a discernable effect on their sale of CDs. Iglauer frankly states he is unsure if Alligator can continue to record the group. One can hope that the film will generate publicity for Saffire and keep them profitably under contract for some label. As viewers see in the film, they are talented, legit blues artists.
Briskly directed by Sarah Knight, Hot Flash covers a great deal in a short period. My only complaint is one I have with many musical documentaries—there are no complete musical performances shown in their entirety, unedited and not drowned out by off-camera interview subjects. After all, their music is the most important part of their story and at least one full tune would give audiences a feel for attending their shows.
Saffire has a story worth hearing, and Hot Flash tells it with economy and humor. As is the case with Saffire’s music, the film should have an appeal well beyond the traditional blues audience.
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