The IFP Market and filmmakers’ conference kicked off yesterday, and today marked the beginning of screenings for a slate of documentaries from hopeful filmmakers. Most are in various stages of production or post-production. Even those screening in their entirety are presumably subject to revision once picked up for distribution. Most films are represented in ten to twenty minute rough cut extracts. Therefore, full reviews would not be appropriate, but for some, it is enough to suggest the filmmakers are at least on the right track.
Natural Soul Brother was one of the first to screen, and indeed looked to be on the right track. Natural tells the stories of the early African-American disk jockeys who championed R&B, and in the process revolutionized American popular music. Many became huge local celebrities, and many became larger than life personalities, like former minister turned D.J. Al Benson, who figures prominently in the fifteen minute clip. A strong, intriguingly edited presentation, it mixed footage of the original hip D.J.’s with Martin Luther King’s address to the National Radio Announcers’ convention, to underscore the influence the D.J.’s influence.
This is definitely the sort of cultural history that lends itself well to film, and the execution here looks promising, and hopefully one can see it in theaters eventually. (Still in production, but trailer available on website). More IFP reports will be posted tonight.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Friday, September 14, 2007
Brick City Hope
Once, Newark featured a nightlife scene that compared favorably to New York’s, with venues like the Kinney Club, the Boston Plaza, the Alcazar, the Nest Club, and the Manor. Those days are gone. Can Newark pull out of its decades-long economic depression and endemic political corruption? That is the task facing new Mayor Cory Booker, interviewed in the October issue of Vibe. (Ordinarily I leave Jersey blogging to the Cranford Pundit, but I doubt he subscribes.)
Mayor Booker, a Democrat, has some interesting things to say. Interviewer Aliya S. King asks him bluntly about his past support for school vouchers, to which he responded:
“I think every poor child in America should have the freedom to go to whatever school they want to go to. I’m poor? Education is my way out? I need to get the best education. But it’s a pipe dream. It’s not happening in New Jersey. So I’m not expending my energy to fight for vouchers. I am supporting the public school system and charter schools. We have the highest performing charter schools in the nation.”
Such notions have led to friction with the state teacher’s cartel. According to Vibe: “a third of Newark’s 278,000 residents live in poverty, and the murder rate is five times that of New York City.” Why are things so bad for New York, particularly when compared to neighboring New York? King mentions the 1967 riots (which surely did not help), but New York has a long history of rioting, from the 1863 Draft Riots through the 1991 Crown Heights riots, and including most applicably, the 1977 blackout riots.
At times, King provides incomplete or even misleading background. She quotes a Booker critic, one Ras Baraka, identified as a school principal and former city councilman turned out by Booker’s election, saying:
“He’s not just from another city,” says Baraka, “he’s from a different place.” [her italics]
Given the abject corruption of the prior administration, Newark should be looking for a mayor metaphorically coming from a different place. Yet a little context on Baraka would be helpful. He is the son of avowed Marxist poet-activist (and jazz critic) Amiri Baraka, who was a vocal ally of former Mayor Kenneth Gibson, setting the tone for that administration when he wrote: "We will nationalize the city's institutions, as if it were liberated territory in Zimbabwe or Angola." Steve Malanga summarizes the impact of an administration born of such radicalism:
By 1986, after 16 years under Gibson, the city’s unemployment rate had risen nearly 50 percent, its population had continued dropping, it had no movie theaters and only one supermarket left, and only two-thirds of its high school students were earning diplomas.
That the Barakas continue to wield influence in Newark politics should begin to explain why the city’s economic stagnation has been so persistent. Unlike Newark, New York has rebounded from all manner of disasters because it had leadership at key moments. Brick City needs a Giuliani. It may at least have an Ed Koch in Booker, which would be a distinct improvement. Like Koch, Mayor Booker (support for educational choice not withstanding) is a mainstream liberal. He has however put the city’s well-being above ideology, pursuing quality of life crimes and educational reform. Despite Vibe’s thinly cloaked skepticism, Booker’s administration shows early promise, and can only gain from comparison to his predecessors.
Mayor Booker, a Democrat, has some interesting things to say. Interviewer Aliya S. King asks him bluntly about his past support for school vouchers, to which he responded:
“I think every poor child in America should have the freedom to go to whatever school they want to go to. I’m poor? Education is my way out? I need to get the best education. But it’s a pipe dream. It’s not happening in New Jersey. So I’m not expending my energy to fight for vouchers. I am supporting the public school system and charter schools. We have the highest performing charter schools in the nation.”
Such notions have led to friction with the state teacher’s cartel. According to Vibe: “a third of Newark’s 278,000 residents live in poverty, and the murder rate is five times that of New York City.” Why are things so bad for New York, particularly when compared to neighboring New York? King mentions the 1967 riots (which surely did not help), but New York has a long history of rioting, from the 1863 Draft Riots through the 1991 Crown Heights riots, and including most applicably, the 1977 blackout riots.
At times, King provides incomplete or even misleading background. She quotes a Booker critic, one Ras Baraka, identified as a school principal and former city councilman turned out by Booker’s election, saying:
“He’s not just from another city,” says Baraka, “he’s from a different place.” [her italics]
Given the abject corruption of the prior administration, Newark should be looking for a mayor metaphorically coming from a different place. Yet a little context on Baraka would be helpful. He is the son of avowed Marxist poet-activist (and jazz critic) Amiri Baraka, who was a vocal ally of former Mayor Kenneth Gibson, setting the tone for that administration when he wrote: "We will nationalize the city's institutions, as if it were liberated territory in Zimbabwe or Angola." Steve Malanga summarizes the impact of an administration born of such radicalism:
By 1986, after 16 years under Gibson, the city’s unemployment rate had risen nearly 50 percent, its population had continued dropping, it had no movie theaters and only one supermarket left, and only two-thirds of its high school students were earning diplomas.
That the Barakas continue to wield influence in Newark politics should begin to explain why the city’s economic stagnation has been so persistent. Unlike Newark, New York has rebounded from all manner of disasters because it had leadership at key moments. Brick City needs a Giuliani. It may at least have an Ed Koch in Booker, which would be a distinct improvement. Like Koch, Mayor Booker (support for educational choice not withstanding) is a mainstream liberal. He has however put the city’s well-being above ideology, pursuing quality of life crimes and educational reform. Despite Vibe’s thinly cloaked skepticism, Booker’s administration shows early promise, and can only gain from comparison to his predecessors.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Fred Waring and His Pennsylvanians
Fred Waring and the Pennsylvanians
By Virginia Waring
University of Illinois Press tradepaper with retrospective CD
0-252-07444-0
Time is relentless. Fred Waring was one of FDR’s favorite bandleaders and a close friend of Pres. Eisenhower. Yet, today he is largely forgotten, despite his enormous success and an influence which extended into America’s kitchens—as in the Waring Blendor. Waring’s third wife and one-time Pennsylvanian Virginia Waring’s biography of her husband, Fred Waring and His Pennsylvanians attempts to re-establish his place in American music history.
Waring’s band, the Pennsylvanians, tended towards the “sweet” ever since its inception in the 1920’s. However, there were swing elements, perhaps more pronounced early in its history. During those beginning years, Waring periodically rose to the defense of jazz as a genre. In one such statement to the press Waring argued:
“The older forms of music, including those we call the classics, have exhausted themselves and have nothing new to offer. The only hope of future progress lies in the wider application of the rhythmic principles revealed and developed by ‘jazz.’” (p. 93)
In later years Waring would incorporate large choral ensembles into his group, which at the time became tremendously popular. Biographer Waring convincingly argues for the long term influence of Waring’s choral music, particularly bandleader Waring’s methods for ensuring the lyrics be understandable, and his choral music publishing company that is still a going concern. However, Waring’s music now seems to fall between genre crevices, too sweet for swing, and too big band for easy listening. Waring also hired auxiliary Pennsylvanians, including classical pianist Virginia Waring (then Morley) and for a time the Les Paul trio (which argues for more jazz cred, but fans will be disappointed that biographer Waring did not write more on Paul’s stint with the outfit).
In addition to being a musical leader, Waring was an entrepreneur and civic activist. In the 1960’s he hired African-American vocalist Frank Davis, and faced the opposition one would expect on tours south of the Mason-Dixon. He did not invent the blender, but perfected and largely financed the Waring Blendor, which bears his name. That venture would ultimately end in litigation. According to biographer Waring:
“And so the royalty payments rolled in for some thirty years until the mid-seventies, when suddenly the quarterly checks did not arrive. The parent company—Dynamic Corporation of America—went into Chapter Eleven bankruptcy, and was using its profits from its little subsidiary, Waring Products, to pay off creditors.” (p. 151)
Waring was also a proud Republican, and a friend and enthusiastic supporter of President Eisenhower. Waring extracts a journalist’s account of Waring leading Gen. Eisenhower and the campaign contingent travelling with him in a late night sessions of songs, concluding with The Lord’s Prayer, that actually reveals much about the private Ike. However, Waring’s independent streak also led to conflicts with unions. On his General Electric television show, he discovered he had to pay for a union designated handler to move his rocking chair. Waring quotes Waring:
“That was the gimmick. They’d hired a chair mover, a union man, whose job it was to keep that chair where it was comfortable for me, but I had to pay his salary.” (p. 234)
Waring represents Waring well. We get a little too much about life with Fred, but there is some great material in the book. His early professional correspondence sounds Runyonesque and his salad years on network radio and television encompass some very telling anecdotes. While his music may sound dated to some, his life makes for fascinating reading.
By Virginia Waring
University of Illinois Press tradepaper with retrospective CD
0-252-07444-0
Time is relentless. Fred Waring was one of FDR’s favorite bandleaders and a close friend of Pres. Eisenhower. Yet, today he is largely forgotten, despite his enormous success and an influence which extended into America’s kitchens—as in the Waring Blendor. Waring’s third wife and one-time Pennsylvanian Virginia Waring’s biography of her husband, Fred Waring and His Pennsylvanians attempts to re-establish his place in American music history.
Waring’s band, the Pennsylvanians, tended towards the “sweet” ever since its inception in the 1920’s. However, there were swing elements, perhaps more pronounced early in its history. During those beginning years, Waring periodically rose to the defense of jazz as a genre. In one such statement to the press Waring argued:
“The older forms of music, including those we call the classics, have exhausted themselves and have nothing new to offer. The only hope of future progress lies in the wider application of the rhythmic principles revealed and developed by ‘jazz.’” (p. 93)
In later years Waring would incorporate large choral ensembles into his group, which at the time became tremendously popular. Biographer Waring convincingly argues for the long term influence of Waring’s choral music, particularly bandleader Waring’s methods for ensuring the lyrics be understandable, and his choral music publishing company that is still a going concern. However, Waring’s music now seems to fall between genre crevices, too sweet for swing, and too big band for easy listening. Waring also hired auxiliary Pennsylvanians, including classical pianist Virginia Waring (then Morley) and for a time the Les Paul trio (which argues for more jazz cred, but fans will be disappointed that biographer Waring did not write more on Paul’s stint with the outfit).
In addition to being a musical leader, Waring was an entrepreneur and civic activist. In the 1960’s he hired African-American vocalist Frank Davis, and faced the opposition one would expect on tours south of the Mason-Dixon. He did not invent the blender, but perfected and largely financed the Waring Blendor, which bears his name. That venture would ultimately end in litigation. According to biographer Waring:
“And so the royalty payments rolled in for some thirty years until the mid-seventies, when suddenly the quarterly checks did not arrive. The parent company—Dynamic Corporation of America—went into Chapter Eleven bankruptcy, and was using its profits from its little subsidiary, Waring Products, to pay off creditors.” (p. 151)
Waring was also a proud Republican, and a friend and enthusiastic supporter of President Eisenhower. Waring extracts a journalist’s account of Waring leading Gen. Eisenhower and the campaign contingent travelling with him in a late night sessions of songs, concluding with The Lord’s Prayer, that actually reveals much about the private Ike. However, Waring’s independent streak also led to conflicts with unions. On his General Electric television show, he discovered he had to pay for a union designated handler to move his rocking chair. Waring quotes Waring:
“That was the gimmick. They’d hired a chair mover, a union man, whose job it was to keep that chair where it was comfortable for me, but I had to pay his salary.” (p. 234)
Waring represents Waring well. We get a little too much about life with Fred, but there is some great material in the book. His early professional correspondence sounds Runyonesque and his salad years on network radio and television encompass some very telling anecdotes. While his music may sound dated to some, his life makes for fascinating reading.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Angels in the Dust
Ninety-four minutes on AIDS in Africa might sound like a Bono-Jesse Helms-style guilt trip. Frankly, that is part of what Angels in the Dust is (trailer here), passing along buzz-killing information like: “By the year 2010, 100 million people in Sub-Saharan Africa will be infected with the disease and 40 million children will be orphaned.” Fortunately, Louise Hogart’s new documentary is more than a well-intentioned power-point presentation of factoids. It actually introduces the audience to some people making a difference.
Marion Cloete and her loyal husband Con opened Botshabelo (now called Boikarabelo), a home and school for AIDS orphans one hundred miles north of Johannesburg. If one were casting a Hollywood version of the Cloetes you might think Judi Dench and Bob Hoskins. Marion Cloete, a self-described activist, was the prime mover behind their orphans’ village, enlisting her husband and their two daughters into her labor of love.
While nothing particularly out of the ordinary for the Cloetes is documented in Angels, the stories told by the children are absolutely harrowing by any standards. Many had suffered from rape and violent crime, in addition to contracting HIV/AIDS. For her part, Cloete is a remarkably comforting presence in their lives. She resembles everyone’s favorite elementary school teacher, but she is tough too.
Cloete can be blunt. Soon after ministering to a man suffering with AIDS, she charts his destructive wake, saying: “as his partners die, he moves on. He’s a serial killer.” The audience also sees she is not afraid to call out an abusive and neglectful mother. Refreshingly though, Cloete is sensitive enough to send the cameras away at certain moments, putting empathy above ego.
If there is anyone who truly incurs the wrath of Marion Cloethe, it is Dr. Manto Tshabalala-Msimang, the ANC’s Minister of Health. She has been the flashpoint for criticism of the Mbeki administration’s AIDS policy, which has only recently, and begrudgingly, accepted the link between HIV and AIDS. Dr. Manto is also infamous for having more enthusiasm for her nutritional prescriptions over anti-retro viruses (AVR’s) as treatment for AIDS. Cloethe complains: “olive oil, beet-root and cabbage and garlic . . . if we had followed this regimen [their student] Virginia would have been dead by now.”
While not perfectly paced, Angels is a compelling film. Director Hogarth does not bring much in the way of a distinct visual style, opting instead for a simple reportorial approach. She does effectively capture the personalities of her subjects. The film is also notable for its soundtrack, which includes original songs by Simphiwe Dana, a South African vocalist who blends aspects of afro-pop, R&B, and nu-jazz. (At least the cool music in Angels can count as fun.)
Angels is definitely an advocacy film, but it is actually not overly politicized, instead maintaining a focus on the human drama of the Cloetes and their charges. It opens in New York this Friday at the City Cinema Village East.
Marion Cloete and her loyal husband Con opened Botshabelo (now called Boikarabelo), a home and school for AIDS orphans one hundred miles north of Johannesburg. If one were casting a Hollywood version of the Cloetes you might think Judi Dench and Bob Hoskins. Marion Cloete, a self-described activist, was the prime mover behind their orphans’ village, enlisting her husband and their two daughters into her labor of love.
While nothing particularly out of the ordinary for the Cloetes is documented in Angels, the stories told by the children are absolutely harrowing by any standards. Many had suffered from rape and violent crime, in addition to contracting HIV/AIDS. For her part, Cloete is a remarkably comforting presence in their lives. She resembles everyone’s favorite elementary school teacher, but she is tough too.
Cloete can be blunt. Soon after ministering to a man suffering with AIDS, she charts his destructive wake, saying: “as his partners die, he moves on. He’s a serial killer.” The audience also sees she is not afraid to call out an abusive and neglectful mother. Refreshingly though, Cloete is sensitive enough to send the cameras away at certain moments, putting empathy above ego.
If there is anyone who truly incurs the wrath of Marion Cloethe, it is Dr. Manto Tshabalala-Msimang, the ANC’s Minister of Health. She has been the flashpoint for criticism of the Mbeki administration’s AIDS policy, which has only recently, and begrudgingly, accepted the link between HIV and AIDS. Dr. Manto is also infamous for having more enthusiasm for her nutritional prescriptions over anti-retro viruses (AVR’s) as treatment for AIDS. Cloethe complains: “olive oil, beet-root and cabbage and garlic . . . if we had followed this regimen [their student] Virginia would have been dead by now.”
While not perfectly paced, Angels is a compelling film. Director Hogarth does not bring much in the way of a distinct visual style, opting instead for a simple reportorial approach. She does effectively capture the personalities of her subjects. The film is also notable for its soundtrack, which includes original songs by Simphiwe Dana, a South African vocalist who blends aspects of afro-pop, R&B, and nu-jazz. (At least the cool music in Angels can count as fun.)
Angels is definitely an advocacy film, but it is actually not overly politicized, instead maintaining a focus on the human drama of the Cloetes and their charges. It opens in New York this Friday at the City Cinema Village East.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Lest We Forget
It has been only six years since the terrorist attacks of 9-11, but many in the creative community seem determined to forget, obscure, and deny the lessons of that event. Lest we forget, the jazz community suffered real losses that day, including one of its own. Betty Farmer, a one-time jazz vocalist working for Cantor Fitzgerald was killed that day. She started her singing career in the cradle of jazz, her hometown of New Orleans, and eventually performed with Duke Ellington. According to the New York Times’ “Portrait of Grief,” she was in the process of re-launching her performing career.
The jazz community also suffered severe economic losses as a result of 9-11. Wendy Oxenhorn of the Jazz Foundation often speaks eloquently about the number of gigs that either dried up completely, or went from paid gigs to tip-jar gigs here in the City. Charles Lloyd played a free stand at the Blue Note in an effort to encourage patrons to return to the clubs.
Make no mistake, creative artists—including jazz musicians, were attacked on September 11, 2001. For those who question whether that threat to creative expression continues, look to recent events in the Middle East. Vendors of music CDs and cassettes are literally under siege in Pakistan. Last month three Pakistani CD and video stores were bombed by Islamic extremists. Why? Music is deemed an “un-Islamic business” by Islamic-Fascists (and “entertaining female customers” is also frowned upon).
This was not a response to Iraq or Israel or any other tortured justification. It is simply another manifestation of an ideology of hate, the same motivation for the murder of 3,000 individual human beings at the World Trade Center (as Karol will be reminding people today). Therefore, we all have a stake in fighting Islamic extremist terrorists, especially musicians and other creative artists.
Today is a day to reflect and remember. We mourn the loss of Ms. Farmer and all who were senselessly murdered that day. We pray that their family and friends can find a measure of solace. Let us remember them throughout the year, and not just this day.
The jazz community also suffered severe economic losses as a result of 9-11. Wendy Oxenhorn of the Jazz Foundation often speaks eloquently about the number of gigs that either dried up completely, or went from paid gigs to tip-jar gigs here in the City. Charles Lloyd played a free stand at the Blue Note in an effort to encourage patrons to return to the clubs.
Make no mistake, creative artists—including jazz musicians, were attacked on September 11, 2001. For those who question whether that threat to creative expression continues, look to recent events in the Middle East. Vendors of music CDs and cassettes are literally under siege in Pakistan. Last month three Pakistani CD and video stores were bombed by Islamic extremists. Why? Music is deemed an “un-Islamic business” by Islamic-Fascists (and “entertaining female customers” is also frowned upon).
This was not a response to Iraq or Israel or any other tortured justification. It is simply another manifestation of an ideology of hate, the same motivation for the murder of 3,000 individual human beings at the World Trade Center (as Karol will be reminding people today). Therefore, we all have a stake in fighting Islamic extremist terrorists, especially musicians and other creative artists.
Today is a day to reflect and remember. We mourn the loss of Ms. Farmer and all who were senselessly murdered that day. We pray that their family and friends can find a measure of solace. Let us remember them throughout the year, and not just this day.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Fantasy
Fantasy
By the Bill Mays Inventions Trio
Palmetto Records
It is a bit surprising to see a list of the film and television scores Bill Mays has played on, including the diverse likes of Adaptation, Interview with a Vampire, and Dallas. Despite this obvious flexibility, Mays’ own recordings as a leader reside primarily in the traditional jazz realm of piano trio. As a composer though, he has penned some extended suites for varied instrumental aggregations, and now a three movement suite for his new chamber jazz group, the Inventions Trio, as featured on his new release Fantasy.
The Inventions Trio consists of Mays on piano, Marvin Stamm on trumpet (and flugelhorn), and Alisa Horn on cello. The presence of Stamm’s polished trumpet tones is particularly logical. In addition to being a longtime friend of Mays, Stamm has long shown a facility for challenging arrangements. His Verve LP Machinations featured the arrangements of Johnny Carisi (and ought to be available on CD). With Horn as the Invention Trio, they display a bright, clear sound on a program consisting primarily of classical composers and Mays’ original suite.
Fantasy begins with “Baubles, Bangles, and Beads,” one of four duets with Stamm recorded in 2001 prior to the formation of the trio. It has a light, swinging approach appropriate to such a frothy standard. It establishes a nice dramatic contrast with the following “Vocalise.” Here, Horn’s cello brings out darker hues, blending nicely into the trio.
The longest cuts on Fantasy are the three movements of the eponymous suite. The first movement begins with Horn, and indeed much of its sound is defined by the cello, as when a passage of insistent bowing marks a turbulent mood swing around 5:05, before Mays piano comes swinging out of it. Although Horn has much less experience as an improviser, she interacts well with her colleagues. The second movement has an overall more contemplative feeling, largely voiced by Stamm’s plaintive tones. The third movement maintains that vibe until about the three minute mark, when Mays and Stamm cut loose and Horn follows with some legit jazz phrasing of her own.
The highlight of Fantasy is actually the final duo track, a medley of Bach’s “Invention #8” and Charlie Parker’s “Ah-Leu-Cha.” It is a surprisingly natural pairing, with Parker’s standard lending itself to a classically oriented chamber interpretation remarkably well. It also features short, but rousing solos from Mays and Stamm in a pleasingly upbeat conclusion.
Although Fantasy might have benefited from more contrasts within its set, it is an undeniably strong venture into chamber jazz. The trio plays effectively as a unit, approaching the material with the respect of classical musicians, but showing the improvising chops of jazz artists.
(Note: Bill Mays and the Invention Trio will be playing Wed. at St. Peter’s 1:00 Midtown Jazz, and at the Kitano Fri. and Sat. nights.)
By the Bill Mays Inventions Trio
Palmetto Records
It is a bit surprising to see a list of the film and television scores Bill Mays has played on, including the diverse likes of Adaptation, Interview with a Vampire, and Dallas. Despite this obvious flexibility, Mays’ own recordings as a leader reside primarily in the traditional jazz realm of piano trio. As a composer though, he has penned some extended suites for varied instrumental aggregations, and now a three movement suite for his new chamber jazz group, the Inventions Trio, as featured on his new release Fantasy.
The Inventions Trio consists of Mays on piano, Marvin Stamm on trumpet (and flugelhorn), and Alisa Horn on cello. The presence of Stamm’s polished trumpet tones is particularly logical. In addition to being a longtime friend of Mays, Stamm has long shown a facility for challenging arrangements. His Verve LP Machinations featured the arrangements of Johnny Carisi (and ought to be available on CD). With Horn as the Invention Trio, they display a bright, clear sound on a program consisting primarily of classical composers and Mays’ original suite.
Fantasy begins with “Baubles, Bangles, and Beads,” one of four duets with Stamm recorded in 2001 prior to the formation of the trio. It has a light, swinging approach appropriate to such a frothy standard. It establishes a nice dramatic contrast with the following “Vocalise.” Here, Horn’s cello brings out darker hues, blending nicely into the trio.
The longest cuts on Fantasy are the three movements of the eponymous suite. The first movement begins with Horn, and indeed much of its sound is defined by the cello, as when a passage of insistent bowing marks a turbulent mood swing around 5:05, before Mays piano comes swinging out of it. Although Horn has much less experience as an improviser, she interacts well with her colleagues. The second movement has an overall more contemplative feeling, largely voiced by Stamm’s plaintive tones. The third movement maintains that vibe until about the three minute mark, when Mays and Stamm cut loose and Horn follows with some legit jazz phrasing of her own.
The highlight of Fantasy is actually the final duo track, a medley of Bach’s “Invention #8” and Charlie Parker’s “Ah-Leu-Cha.” It is a surprisingly natural pairing, with Parker’s standard lending itself to a classically oriented chamber interpretation remarkably well. It also features short, but rousing solos from Mays and Stamm in a pleasingly upbeat conclusion.
Although Fantasy might have benefited from more contrasts within its set, it is an undeniably strong venture into chamber jazz. The trio plays effectively as a unit, approaching the material with the respect of classical musicians, but showing the improvising chops of jazz artists.
(Note: Bill Mays and the Invention Trio will be playing Wed. at St. Peter’s 1:00 Midtown Jazz, and at the Kitano Fri. and Sat. nights.)
Friday, September 07, 2007
Work: Musician
Being a jazz musician is hard work. If you did not know that already, Daniel Krause’s new documentary Musician (clip here) will make it clear to you. If you see it at Two Boots’ Pioneer Cinema in the next five days, you will also get to hear a solo set from its protagonist: Ken Vandermark.
According to the Chicago based reed player, seven consecutive solo sets is an unusual stand for him, but as is amply demonstrated in the film, Vandermark is a road warrior, who probably would not turn down any doable gig. Thursday night his pre-film set consisted of two free improvisations on clarinet, and two pieces for tenor, including “Waltz for Monk” which was freshly composed as of that morning. With a fittingly loping rhythm, “Waltz” shows Vandermark’s prolific talent as a composer. In the Q&A following, Vandermark spoke of trying to build an audience in rock clubs. Despite what could be called avant-garde inclinations, one can see his appeal to that demographic, given his passionate style and penchant for tonguing and various dramatic effects.
As for the film itself, it certainly rang true to what I have been told about the business side of a jazz musician’s life. Krause arguably makes a pacing mistake by starting with an extended look at Vandermark’s composing process. Once we start to see him interacting more with musicians and professional colleagues, the film picks up dramatically. Vandermark seems to be a naturally reserved person, but as the film progresses, his sense of humor starts to emerge. Clocking in at 52 minutes, Musician also gives neophyte viewers a manageable sampling of contemporary avant-garde jazz through clips of Vandermark’s performances.
Through Musician, the audience gets to share the joy of booking gigs. You will see Vandermark pay one sideman a dollar extra for driving. You will start to understand how much fun load-in can be. I have yet to hear a musician speak a kind word about Canadian customs, and Vandermark’s band experiences the requisite hassles to be faced by a car full of musicians trying to cross the northern border. From my limited perspective, the film is pretty much spot on.
Musician is part of Krause’s Work series of documentaries based on interesting occupations—sort of a modern cinematic equivalent of Studs Terkel’s Working. He has a good cinematic eye and captured many telling moments. The double feature of Vandermark and Vandermark continues at the Pioneer through Sept. 11th.
According to the Chicago based reed player, seven consecutive solo sets is an unusual stand for him, but as is amply demonstrated in the film, Vandermark is a road warrior, who probably would not turn down any doable gig. Thursday night his pre-film set consisted of two free improvisations on clarinet, and two pieces for tenor, including “Waltz for Monk” which was freshly composed as of that morning. With a fittingly loping rhythm, “Waltz” shows Vandermark’s prolific talent as a composer. In the Q&A following, Vandermark spoke of trying to build an audience in rock clubs. Despite what could be called avant-garde inclinations, one can see his appeal to that demographic, given his passionate style and penchant for tonguing and various dramatic effects.
As for the film itself, it certainly rang true to what I have been told about the business side of a jazz musician’s life. Krause arguably makes a pacing mistake by starting with an extended look at Vandermark’s composing process. Once we start to see him interacting more with musicians and professional colleagues, the film picks up dramatically. Vandermark seems to be a naturally reserved person, but as the film progresses, his sense of humor starts to emerge. Clocking in at 52 minutes, Musician also gives neophyte viewers a manageable sampling of contemporary avant-garde jazz through clips of Vandermark’s performances.
Through Musician, the audience gets to share the joy of booking gigs. You will see Vandermark pay one sideman a dollar extra for driving. You will start to understand how much fun load-in can be. I have yet to hear a musician speak a kind word about Canadian customs, and Vandermark’s band experiences the requisite hassles to be faced by a car full of musicians trying to cross the northern border. From my limited perspective, the film is pretty much spot on.
Musician is part of Krause’s Work series of documentaries based on interesting occupations—sort of a modern cinematic equivalent of Studs Terkel’s Working. He has a good cinematic eye and captured many telling moments. The double feature of Vandermark and Vandermark continues at the Pioneer through Sept. 11th.
Thursday, September 06, 2007
Celia Media
The cast of Celia: The Life and Music of Celia Cruz had their press day yesterday in their new home, the second theater of New World Stages, the Off-Broadway theater complex. After a previously announced opening of September 12th, it is now set to officially launch September 26th. Coincidently, that debut will also mark the opening of the Smithsonian’s traveling Celia Cruz ¡Azúcar! exhibit at the Museo Alameda in San Antonio, the next leg of its tour. Cruz’s life and legacy look to be well remembered in 2007, just over five years after her death.
The set backdrop used for the event clearly evokes the Old Colonial Spanish architecture of Havana. As for the lead, Xiomara Laugart Sanchez looks well cast as Cruz. Celia will only have two English language performances each week—Saturdays at 5:00 and Sundays at 7:00. During the media session some reporters expressed surprise that there would be any English performances (which seemed odd, given that their interviews were in English). At one point Sanchez spoke of music having no country, and indeed, the music will be the crucial factor in making Celia a success. The fact that Latin music veteran Isidro Infante (who has worked with legends like Cruz, Tito Puente, and the great Machito) serves as musical director is a good sign. Celia’s band also includes former Cruz sideman Luisito Quintero, and Robert Quintero, who has played with the Caribbean Jazz Project. The appearances of Puente and Johnny Pacheco as minor characters are also encouraging factors.
The other crucial test for Celia will be its handling of her years in exile as a result of the rise of Castro’s dictatorship. Perhaps more than any other artist she represented the greatness of Cuba’s musical heritage, no longer welcome in its native land. Paquito D’Rivera devotes a full chapter to her importance in his memoir, writing:
“Celia was one of those special artists, who even away from her homeland became, without realizing it, the person most representative of Cuban national character, with all of its virtues and none of its vices. She tore down all types of racial and generational barriers and transcended all musical, political, sexual, and religious prejudices.” (p. 336-337)
With persistent rumors swirling about Castro’s health, it would be a fitting historical irony if Celia’s opening coincided with the death of the dictator. Regardless, Cruz was a true icon, deserving of a lavish stage tribute.
The set backdrop used for the event clearly evokes the Old Colonial Spanish architecture of Havana. As for the lead, Xiomara Laugart Sanchez looks well cast as Cruz. Celia will only have two English language performances each week—Saturdays at 5:00 and Sundays at 7:00. During the media session some reporters expressed surprise that there would be any English performances (which seemed odd, given that their interviews were in English). At one point Sanchez spoke of music having no country, and indeed, the music will be the crucial factor in making Celia a success. The fact that Latin music veteran Isidro Infante (who has worked with legends like Cruz, Tito Puente, and the great Machito) serves as musical director is a good sign. Celia’s band also includes former Cruz sideman Luisito Quintero, and Robert Quintero, who has played with the Caribbean Jazz Project. The appearances of Puente and Johnny Pacheco as minor characters are also encouraging factors.
The other crucial test for Celia will be its handling of her years in exile as a result of the rise of Castro’s dictatorship. Perhaps more than any other artist she represented the greatness of Cuba’s musical heritage, no longer welcome in its native land. Paquito D’Rivera devotes a full chapter to her importance in his memoir, writing:
“Celia was one of those special artists, who even away from her homeland became, without realizing it, the person most representative of Cuban national character, with all of its virtues and none of its vices. She tore down all types of racial and generational barriers and transcended all musical, political, sexual, and religious prejudices.” (p. 336-337)
With persistent rumors swirling about Castro’s health, it would be a fitting historical irony if Celia’s opening coincided with the death of the dictator. Regardless, Cruz was a true icon, deserving of a lavish stage tribute.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
A Tale of God’s Will
A Tale of God’s Will (a Requiem for Katrina)
By Terence Blanchard
Blue Note
Much has already been written and said about New Orleans and Katrina, the nature of which runs the gamut from the inspiring to the ugly. By their nature, words are an imprecise, imperfect method of communication. Terence Blanchard’s Katrina-inspired themes from his soundtrack to Spike Lee’s When the Levees Broke documentary, re-orchestrated and re-recorded on A Tale of God’s Will, demonstrate the advantage music holds in speaking directly to listeners’ emotions.
Even before Katrina, New Orleans was a city haunted by ghosts, and Blanchard gives those ghosts their say throughout Tale, starting with “Ghost of Congo Square,” known as the site of the Sunday celebrations of the slave population of New Orleans, but also as Blanchard writes in the liner notes: “where they displayed the severed heads of men who revolted against slavery.” It is a fittingly percussion heavy track, with the musicians chanting “this is a tale of God’s will.” Later, Blanchard’s trumpet speaks for the ghost of Hurricane Betsy (at the time the worst American storm of record, killing 76 Louisianans in 1976) and Brice Winston’s tenor animates the ghost of the flood of 1927 (still considered the worst in American history and inspiration for blues from Charlie Patton and others) in short interludes.
The meat of Tale consists of Blanchard’s adapted themes and contributions from his quintet, which fit together well, sounding like pieces of a unified whole. With “Levees” Blanchard expresses the calm before the storm through his mournful trumpet, in a piece that becomes increasingly darker and more turbulent. “Wading Through” speaks to the aftermath, introducing some motifs that reoccur throughout Tale, featuring pianist Aaron Parks.
“Ashé” may be the most hopefully note of Tale. Inspired by a Yoruban blessing, the beautiful composition by Parks is a stirring showcase for Blanchard’s rich trumpet sound. As on most tracks on Tale, “Ashé” is fully orchestrated for the strings of the Northwest Sinfonia, giving the session a lush sound, befitting its soundtrack origins, but in this case, not overwhelming the instrumental soloist.
Bassist Derrick Hodge’s “Over There” echoes Blanchard’s themes, with sweeping strings framing Blanchard’s burnished trumpet tones. Blanchard’s “Funeral Dirge” departs from New Orleans tradition somewhat, portraying the somber procession to the cemetery, but foregoing the joyous return. Tale concludes with Blanchard’s very personal “Dear Mom,” composed for his mother’s return to her flooded home as filmed for Lee’s documentary. Of all the tracks, it might be the most symphonic, with the strings coming into the forefront, nearly eclipsing Blanchard’s expression of loss.
Blanchard has been outspoken in recent interviews, expressing anger and resentment, but there is little rage in Tale. There is sorrow and grief, and occasionally a glimmer of hope in a rich program of music.
By Terence Blanchard
Blue Note
Much has already been written and said about New Orleans and Katrina, the nature of which runs the gamut from the inspiring to the ugly. By their nature, words are an imprecise, imperfect method of communication. Terence Blanchard’s Katrina-inspired themes from his soundtrack to Spike Lee’s When the Levees Broke documentary, re-orchestrated and re-recorded on A Tale of God’s Will, demonstrate the advantage music holds in speaking directly to listeners’ emotions.
Even before Katrina, New Orleans was a city haunted by ghosts, and Blanchard gives those ghosts their say throughout Tale, starting with “Ghost of Congo Square,” known as the site of the Sunday celebrations of the slave population of New Orleans, but also as Blanchard writes in the liner notes: “where they displayed the severed heads of men who revolted against slavery.” It is a fittingly percussion heavy track, with the musicians chanting “this is a tale of God’s will.” Later, Blanchard’s trumpet speaks for the ghost of Hurricane Betsy (at the time the worst American storm of record, killing 76 Louisianans in 1976) and Brice Winston’s tenor animates the ghost of the flood of 1927 (still considered the worst in American history and inspiration for blues from Charlie Patton and others) in short interludes.
The meat of Tale consists of Blanchard’s adapted themes and contributions from his quintet, which fit together well, sounding like pieces of a unified whole. With “Levees” Blanchard expresses the calm before the storm through his mournful trumpet, in a piece that becomes increasingly darker and more turbulent. “Wading Through” speaks to the aftermath, introducing some motifs that reoccur throughout Tale, featuring pianist Aaron Parks.
“Ashé” may be the most hopefully note of Tale. Inspired by a Yoruban blessing, the beautiful composition by Parks is a stirring showcase for Blanchard’s rich trumpet sound. As on most tracks on Tale, “Ashé” is fully orchestrated for the strings of the Northwest Sinfonia, giving the session a lush sound, befitting its soundtrack origins, but in this case, not overwhelming the instrumental soloist.
Bassist Derrick Hodge’s “Over There” echoes Blanchard’s themes, with sweeping strings framing Blanchard’s burnished trumpet tones. Blanchard’s “Funeral Dirge” departs from New Orleans tradition somewhat, portraying the somber procession to the cemetery, but foregoing the joyous return. Tale concludes with Blanchard’s very personal “Dear Mom,” composed for his mother’s return to her flooded home as filmed for Lee’s documentary. Of all the tracks, it might be the most symphonic, with the strings coming into the forefront, nearly eclipsing Blanchard’s expression of loss.
Blanchard has been outspoken in recent interviews, expressing anger and resentment, but there is little rage in Tale. There is sorrow and grief, and occasionally a glimmer of hope in a rich program of music.
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
Granz and Mili: Improvisation
Norman Granz Presents Improvisation
Directed by Gjon Mili
Eagle Eye Media
Albanian Gjon Mili was an accomplished still photographer for Life magazine, so revered in Albanian-speaking regions, that in recent years a school for photography in Kosovo would be named in his honor. Mili also filmed what many regard as the greatest jazz film ever made—the 1944 Warner Brothers short Jammin’ the Blues, which would be nominated for a short film Academy Award. Six years later Mili and his collaborator, producer Norman Granz shot footage for a sequel that was assumed lost for years. It has been collected with Jammin’ and other Granz-produced concert footage of note in the new 2-DVD set Improvisation.
Improvisation is a historic film for several reasons, not the least being a sequel to Jammin’ the Blues. It also contains some of the only existing film footage of Charlie Parker in performance, which takes on added significance as his only recorded musical meeting with Coleman Hawkins (at least that we currently know of). One factor complicating the release of Improvisation was the difficulty of synching the film with the audio. Improvisation was shot in Mili’s photo studio, which was not sound-proofed. This required the audio track to be laid down in a separate studio, prior to the filming. As a result, there is a certain roughness to Improvisation. Mili never edited a final cut, so his ultimate vision remains unknown. However, Improvisation faithfully collects and collates his images with the fantastic recorded music, perhaps not seamlessly, but the overall effect does not distract from the music.
The music itself is amazing. Clocking in around fifteen minutes, the restored Mili sequence features the likes of Parker, Hawkins, Hank Jones, Lester Young, Bill Harris, Ray Brown, Buddy Rich, Flip Philips, Harry “Sweets” Edison, and Ella Fitzgerald. It starts with Jones’ lovely intro to “Ballade” (also used over the DVD menu) before Hawkins full-bodied tenor enters, caressing the melody before handing off to Bird. Hawk and Bird were actually a natural pairing, as Hawkins was evolving towards something much like bebop just as Parker burst forth onto the scene with his innovative approach. One can see the regard Bird has for Hawkins in Mili’s video. In fact, this rare footage does much to humanize Parker, too often mythologized for his extremes. Here, Mili’s camera captures his sensitivity and his enjoyment of his colleagues and their music.
Young and Edison are the two returning musicians from Jammin,’ getting their say on “Pennies from Heaven” and “Blues for Greasy.” Again, Improvisation can stake a claim to history, showcasing the titans of the hot and cool schools of tenor sax, with Hawkins and Young, respectively.
Of the additional performances on disk one, the Ellington is particularly noteworthy. “Blues for Joan Miro” was improvised for the Spanish artist at the Fondation Maeght Museum amidst a exhibition of the artist’s sculptures. With Sam Woodyard on drums and John Lamb on bass, the maestro demonstrates a rhythmic, percussive keyboard attack which might surprise some. Ellington never ceases to amaze.
The second disk contains silent rush footage and stills of the session by photographer Paul Nodler, giving further depth and context to the Mili sequence. The highlight of disk two though, unquestionably is the original Jammin’ the Blues. It hardly needs reviewing. The opening shot of Young’s porkpie hat should give chills to any jazz lover. It is also notable for a smoky rendition of “Sunny Side of the Street,” from Marie Bryant, a vocalist then in-between a stint with Ellington and an extended European sojourn, who should have been recorded much more than she was.
In Improvisation, two of Mili’s three short films are collected. (The third Jammin’ for Mili featured the Dave Brubeck quartet.) As such it is of historical importance. It takes on added significance as a rare document of Charlie Parker in live performance. The additional live footage of Ellington, Count Basie, Ella Fitzgerald and Joe Pass are no small value-added bonuses. Improvisation is a heck of a collection, continuing Granz’s mission of presenting the improvised music with respect for the improvising artists.
Directed by Gjon Mili
Eagle Eye Media
Albanian Gjon Mili was an accomplished still photographer for Life magazine, so revered in Albanian-speaking regions, that in recent years a school for photography in Kosovo would be named in his honor. Mili also filmed what many regard as the greatest jazz film ever made—the 1944 Warner Brothers short Jammin’ the Blues, which would be nominated for a short film Academy Award. Six years later Mili and his collaborator, producer Norman Granz shot footage for a sequel that was assumed lost for years. It has been collected with Jammin’ and other Granz-produced concert footage of note in the new 2-DVD set Improvisation.
Improvisation is a historic film for several reasons, not the least being a sequel to Jammin’ the Blues. It also contains some of the only existing film footage of Charlie Parker in performance, which takes on added significance as his only recorded musical meeting with Coleman Hawkins (at least that we currently know of). One factor complicating the release of Improvisation was the difficulty of synching the film with the audio. Improvisation was shot in Mili’s photo studio, which was not sound-proofed. This required the audio track to be laid down in a separate studio, prior to the filming. As a result, there is a certain roughness to Improvisation. Mili never edited a final cut, so his ultimate vision remains unknown. However, Improvisation faithfully collects and collates his images with the fantastic recorded music, perhaps not seamlessly, but the overall effect does not distract from the music.
The music itself is amazing. Clocking in around fifteen minutes, the restored Mili sequence features the likes of Parker, Hawkins, Hank Jones, Lester Young, Bill Harris, Ray Brown, Buddy Rich, Flip Philips, Harry “Sweets” Edison, and Ella Fitzgerald. It starts with Jones’ lovely intro to “Ballade” (also used over the DVD menu) before Hawkins full-bodied tenor enters, caressing the melody before handing off to Bird. Hawk and Bird were actually a natural pairing, as Hawkins was evolving towards something much like bebop just as Parker burst forth onto the scene with his innovative approach. One can see the regard Bird has for Hawkins in Mili’s video. In fact, this rare footage does much to humanize Parker, too often mythologized for his extremes. Here, Mili’s camera captures his sensitivity and his enjoyment of his colleagues and their music.
Young and Edison are the two returning musicians from Jammin,’ getting their say on “Pennies from Heaven” and “Blues for Greasy.” Again, Improvisation can stake a claim to history, showcasing the titans of the hot and cool schools of tenor sax, with Hawkins and Young, respectively.
Of the additional performances on disk one, the Ellington is particularly noteworthy. “Blues for Joan Miro” was improvised for the Spanish artist at the Fondation Maeght Museum amidst a exhibition of the artist’s sculptures. With Sam Woodyard on drums and John Lamb on bass, the maestro demonstrates a rhythmic, percussive keyboard attack which might surprise some. Ellington never ceases to amaze.
The second disk contains silent rush footage and stills of the session by photographer Paul Nodler, giving further depth and context to the Mili sequence. The highlight of disk two though, unquestionably is the original Jammin’ the Blues. It hardly needs reviewing. The opening shot of Young’s porkpie hat should give chills to any jazz lover. It is also notable for a smoky rendition of “Sunny Side of the Street,” from Marie Bryant, a vocalist then in-between a stint with Ellington and an extended European sojourn, who should have been recorded much more than she was.
In Improvisation, two of Mili’s three short films are collected. (The third Jammin’ for Mili featured the Dave Brubeck quartet.) As such it is of historical importance. It takes on added significance as a rare document of Charlie Parker in live performance. The additional live footage of Ellington, Count Basie, Ella Fitzgerald and Joe Pass are no small value-added bonuses. Improvisation is a heck of a collection, continuing Granz’s mission of presenting the improvised music with respect for the improvising artists.
Monday, September 03, 2007
Surveying a Flood of Katrina Ink
Much has been written on the second anniversary of Katrina and the quality varies widely. Some of the best comes from Daniel Rothschild in his series of Myths of Hurricane Katrina for Reason. The first myth is the one the Democrat candidates were in town peddling: the purported lack of federal money. Rothschild writes:
“The federal government has already allocated a substantial amount of money to Gulf Coast reconstruction. According to the Congressional Budget Office (CBO), as of July 2007 the federal government had appropriated $94.8 billion for Katrina recovery. Congress has allowed the National Flood Insurance Program to borrow another $17 billion from the government to cover the deficit it racked up paying out Katrina claims. The federal government has also created $16 billion in targeted tax breaks through Gulf Opportunity (GO) Zone credits and other programs.
So it's not a lack of funding that's the problem. It's spending the money. Under existing laws, FEMA can't simply write checks to Katrina victims. Some recipients would undoubtedly squander their funds, and there would be widespread fraud. This isn't idle speculation. According to the Government Accountability Office, immediately after Katrina hit, about a billion dollars of emergency aid—16 percent of the total—was lost to fraudulent claims. Even legitimately obtained pre-paid debit cards given to aid Katrina's victims were used to buy champagne, guns, tattoos, and porn.”
Frankly, I don’t have a problem with what those debit cards were used to buy (whatever helps them get by) and the guns in particular seem like a wise purchase, given the explosion of crime in post-Katrina NOLA. However, Rothschild’s overall point is taken.
Rothschild’s third myth is that “the Gulf Coast is suffering from a lack of leadership.” It turns out this is true only by the media’s definition of leadership—namely political and governmental leadership, which is also the case for nearly every region of the country. One example of innovative leadership cited by Rothschild came from, yes, that’s right, Wal-Mart:
“In Waveland, Mississippi, for example, the manager of the local Wal-Mart worked with the company's corporate officials to open a store under a tent in the parking lot, then later opened a convenient, easily accessible ‘Wal-Mart Express’-the first-ever store of its type-designed especially for post-Katrina Mississippi. Such creativity and on-the-fly adaptation and innovation on-the-fly would have been inconceivable from FEMA, which kept physicians from treating wounded evacuees because they weren't registered with the federal government, and kept firefighters away from those in need until they completed sexual harassment training, and courses on FEMA's history.”
There have been many non-profits active in NOLA taking direct action on a personal level to improve the situation. Organizations like the Jazz Foundation of America, the Stephen Spring Foundation, Tipitina’s Foundation, and the New Orleans Musicians Clinic have done heroic work responding to the needs of NOLA’s musicians. To see this myth of leadership being inextricably tied to governmental authority, one look no further than Larry Blumenfeld piece for Salon. At one point he writes indignantly:
“Republican Rep. Lindsay Hunter took that citizen-action theme one rather disturbing step further. ‘Government is inept,’ he said. ‘Bureaucracies are inept I see a great future for New Orleans based not on what government does for people but what free people do for themselves.’ . . . Moments later, discussing the problems with police protection, Hunter said frankly, ‘To the people of New Orleans, I have to say that’s a local issue. I can’t help you with that.”
Strictly speaking, Rep. Hunter is correct. Whether Blumenfeld likes it or not, we have a federal system of government. Crime is a local issue. Short of declaring martial law, the federal government can only do so much to fight crime, especially on a regional basis. However, the Manhattan Institute’s Nicole Gelinas makes the following recommendation to Pres. Bush:
“In his speech in New Orleans this week, Bush should say he’s ready to ask Congress for $500 million for the city’s police and prosecutorial forces over two years—but only if Nagin and Jordan make it their No. 1 priority to enforce the law rationally. And only if the city works with the feds to tie the money to measurable results, starting with rational arrests for offenses from quality-of-life infractions to homicide, more effective prosecutions and sentencings—and, ultimately, fewer crimes.
It’s an enduring mystery why Bush hasn’t used Katrina to show the world that America can rebuild a major city using bedrock conservative principles: law and order first.”
For Blumenfeld and others decrying a lack of “leadership,” would such an initiative be welcomed or seen as federal micro-managing? One article that recognized leadership need not have a government honorific attached to its name appeared in the Columbia City Paper. Magdalene Kellett pays tribute to average citizens showing real leadership, including the New Orleans Musicians Relief Fund:
“As the fund grew, more people gave and other items were donated to victims including furniture and refurbished instruments. NOMRF has also helped supply high school marching bands with instruments. Anybody who has spent anytime in New Orleans knows the amazing talent these kids have.”
One often gets the feeling that those bemoaning a lack of “leadership” and demanding more spending really do no want things to get better in New Orleans. They prefer to have the city in a state of perpetual martyrdom, using overheated rhetoric designed not to build consensus, but cleave divisions. That’s why pieces like Rothschild’s are refreshing. It is always good to stop and survey the situation from a fresh, dispassionate perspective.
“The federal government has already allocated a substantial amount of money to Gulf Coast reconstruction. According to the Congressional Budget Office (CBO), as of July 2007 the federal government had appropriated $94.8 billion for Katrina recovery. Congress has allowed the National Flood Insurance Program to borrow another $17 billion from the government to cover the deficit it racked up paying out Katrina claims. The federal government has also created $16 billion in targeted tax breaks through Gulf Opportunity (GO) Zone credits and other programs.
So it's not a lack of funding that's the problem. It's spending the money. Under existing laws, FEMA can't simply write checks to Katrina victims. Some recipients would undoubtedly squander their funds, and there would be widespread fraud. This isn't idle speculation. According to the Government Accountability Office, immediately after Katrina hit, about a billion dollars of emergency aid—16 percent of the total—was lost to fraudulent claims. Even legitimately obtained pre-paid debit cards given to aid Katrina's victims were used to buy champagne, guns, tattoos, and porn.”
Frankly, I don’t have a problem with what those debit cards were used to buy (whatever helps them get by) and the guns in particular seem like a wise purchase, given the explosion of crime in post-Katrina NOLA. However, Rothschild’s overall point is taken.
Rothschild’s third myth is that “the Gulf Coast is suffering from a lack of leadership.” It turns out this is true only by the media’s definition of leadership—namely political and governmental leadership, which is also the case for nearly every region of the country. One example of innovative leadership cited by Rothschild came from, yes, that’s right, Wal-Mart:
“In Waveland, Mississippi, for example, the manager of the local Wal-Mart worked with the company's corporate officials to open a store under a tent in the parking lot, then later opened a convenient, easily accessible ‘Wal-Mart Express’-the first-ever store of its type-designed especially for post-Katrina Mississippi. Such creativity and on-the-fly adaptation and innovation on-the-fly would have been inconceivable from FEMA, which kept physicians from treating wounded evacuees because they weren't registered with the federal government, and kept firefighters away from those in need until they completed sexual harassment training, and courses on FEMA's history.”
There have been many non-profits active in NOLA taking direct action on a personal level to improve the situation. Organizations like the Jazz Foundation of America, the Stephen Spring Foundation, Tipitina’s Foundation, and the New Orleans Musicians Clinic have done heroic work responding to the needs of NOLA’s musicians. To see this myth of leadership being inextricably tied to governmental authority, one look no further than Larry Blumenfeld piece for Salon. At one point he writes indignantly:
“Republican Rep. Lindsay Hunter took that citizen-action theme one rather disturbing step further. ‘Government is inept,’ he said. ‘Bureaucracies are inept I see a great future for New Orleans based not on what government does for people but what free people do for themselves.’ . . . Moments later, discussing the problems with police protection, Hunter said frankly, ‘To the people of New Orleans, I have to say that’s a local issue. I can’t help you with that.”
Strictly speaking, Rep. Hunter is correct. Whether Blumenfeld likes it or not, we have a federal system of government. Crime is a local issue. Short of declaring martial law, the federal government can only do so much to fight crime, especially on a regional basis. However, the Manhattan Institute’s Nicole Gelinas makes the following recommendation to Pres. Bush:
“In his speech in New Orleans this week, Bush should say he’s ready to ask Congress for $500 million for the city’s police and prosecutorial forces over two years—but only if Nagin and Jordan make it their No. 1 priority to enforce the law rationally. And only if the city works with the feds to tie the money to measurable results, starting with rational arrests for offenses from quality-of-life infractions to homicide, more effective prosecutions and sentencings—and, ultimately, fewer crimes.
It’s an enduring mystery why Bush hasn’t used Katrina to show the world that America can rebuild a major city using bedrock conservative principles: law and order first.”
For Blumenfeld and others decrying a lack of “leadership,” would such an initiative be welcomed or seen as federal micro-managing? One article that recognized leadership need not have a government honorific attached to its name appeared in the Columbia City Paper. Magdalene Kellett pays tribute to average citizens showing real leadership, including the New Orleans Musicians Relief Fund:
“As the fund grew, more people gave and other items were donated to victims including furniture and refurbished instruments. NOMRF has also helped supply high school marching bands with instruments. Anybody who has spent anytime in New Orleans knows the amazing talent these kids have.”
One often gets the feeling that those bemoaning a lack of “leadership” and demanding more spending really do no want things to get better in New Orleans. They prefer to have the city in a state of perpetual martyrdom, using overheated rhetoric designed not to build consensus, but cleave divisions. That’s why pieces like Rothschild’s are refreshing. It is always good to stop and survey the situation from a fresh, dispassionate perspective.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Coming Soon: The Rape of Europa
Fine art should be inspiring and ennobling. It should help man relate to his fellow man, and enrich the lives of those who experience it. Yet, whether as objects to be vilified for propaganda purposes, greedily plundered, or spitefully destroyed, the National Socialists were obsessed with works of art. The upcoming documentary, The Rape of Europa (trailer here) details the various Nazis campaigns against art, revealing how truly dangerous the Nazis nihilistic reign of terror was to the survival of Europe’s cultural legacy.
The touchstone work for Europa is Gustav Klimt’s Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer, described in the film as the most recognizable and celebrated Austrian work of art. Looted by the Nazis, it long hung in an Austrian museum before it was finally restored to the Bloch-Bauer heir. The film also makes the salient point that it is widely known in Austria as the Gold Portrait rather than by its given title, which referred to its rightful Jewish owner.
Based in large measure on Lynn H. Nicholas’ NBCC winning book of the same title, Europa lucidly chronicles the National Socialists’ Degenerate Art (Entartete Kunst) exhibit, and other propaganda attacks on modern art. It also describes in detail the scope of their systematic looting Jewish homes and museums, organized at the highest levels, which continued unabated even as the fortunes of war turned against Germany.
Europa does identify some heroes however. First and foremost were the Monument Men, a select group of American officers with elite training in the arts. Given the mission of minimizing the damage to Europe’s architectural treasures and restoring its looted art with little material support, they were remarkably effective. The Monument Men included officers in th
eir ranks like Lincoln Kirstein (co-founder of the New York City Ballet) and painter Deane Keller. It would be Keller who emerges as first among heroes in Europa, having initiated the restoration of Pisa’s all but destroyed Campo Santo under desperate conditions—an effort which continues to this day.
As Europa makes clear, the Soviets also had a similar corps of officers, but tellingly, they were referred to as “trophy” men. One reason many pillaged old masters remain missing is that they were put on trains headed east. The revelation of trophy art in the Hermitage became a cause célèbre for Russian nationalists in the late 1990’s, with the Duma passing a resolution barring the return of these works to the heirs of their rightful owners.
Europa is fascinating and frustratingly topical. It is a very well crafted documentary that has powerful moments, effectively supported by Marco D’Ambrosio’s score recorded by the Prague Philharmonic. To their credit, the filmmakers offer quite a bit of insight, and are not afraid to broach controversial subjects.
Screening Europa makes evident the differences between the values of America and totalitarian regimes like the National Socialists and the Communists (and now it appears, Russian Nationalists). Free societies value art for its own sake, apart from pecuniary and propaganda concerns. Those who share a love of art should see Europa to gain an appreciation for those who protected and restored Europe’s treasures during the continent’s darkest hour. It is an important film that deserves a wide audience. Europa opens in New York September 14th (at the Paris and Angelika).
The touchstone work for Europa is Gustav Klimt’s Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer, described in the film as the most recognizable and celebrated Austrian work of art. Looted by the Nazis, it long hung in an Austrian museum before it was finally restored to the Bloch-Bauer heir. The film also makes the salient point that it is widely known in Austria as the Gold Portrait rather than by its given title, which referred to its rightful Jewish owner.
Based in large measure on Lynn H. Nicholas’ NBCC winning book of the same title, Europa lucidly chronicles the National Socialists’ Degenerate Art (Entartete Kunst) exhibit, and other propaganda attacks on modern art. It also describes in detail the scope of their systematic looting Jewish homes and museums, organized at the highest levels, which continued unabated even as the fortunes of war turned against Germany.
Europa does identify some heroes however. First and foremost were the Monument Men, a select group of American officers with elite training in the arts. Given the mission of minimizing the damage to Europe’s architectural treasures and restoring its looted art with little material support, they were remarkably effective. The Monument Men included officers in th
eir ranks like Lincoln Kirstein (co-founder of the New York City Ballet) and painter Deane Keller. It would be Keller who emerges as first among heroes in Europa, having initiated the restoration of Pisa’s all but destroyed Campo Santo under desperate conditions—an effort which continues to this day.As Europa makes clear, the Soviets also had a similar corps of officers, but tellingly, they were referred to as “trophy” men. One reason many pillaged old masters remain missing is that they were put on trains headed east. The revelation of trophy art in the Hermitage became a cause célèbre for Russian nationalists in the late 1990’s, with the Duma passing a resolution barring the return of these works to the heirs of their rightful owners.
Europa is fascinating and frustratingly topical. It is a very well crafted documentary that has powerful moments, effectively supported by Marco D’Ambrosio’s score recorded by the Prague Philharmonic. To their credit, the filmmakers offer quite a bit of insight, and are not afraid to broach controversial subjects.
Screening Europa makes evident the differences between the values of America and totalitarian regimes like the National Socialists and the Communists (and now it appears, Russian Nationalists). Free societies value art for its own sake, apart from pecuniary and propaganda concerns. Those who share a love of art should see Europa to gain an appreciation for those who protected and restored Europe’s treasures during the continent’s darkest hour. It is an important film that deserves a wide audience. Europa opens in New York September 14th (at the Paris and Angelika).
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Los Zafiros
Los Zafiros: Music from the Edge of Time
Directed by Lorenzo DeStefano
Shout! Factory
To understate matters, 1962 was an interesting year in Cuba to form a vocal quintet heavily influenced by American doo-wop. However, that is exactly what Los Zafiros (The Sapphires) did, becoming tremendously popular (both in Cuba and on world tours) for nearly two decades, fusing vocal harmonies with bossa, rumba, and conga rhythms. The two living members of Los Zafiros reunite for music and reminiscences in the documentary Los Zafiros: Music from the Edge of Time (trailer here).
Miguel Cancio, an original founding member, currently lives in Florida, but was allowed to return to Cuba with filmmaker Lorenzo DeStefano’s crew. Having immigrated to America, leaving behind friends and family, Cancio’s story is wrapped up in themes of exile, belonging, and patriotism. In an early interview Cancio says:
“I adore my country because he who doesn’t love his country, loves no one. I feel I am a good Cuban, but this is my second country.”
His surviving colleague is Manuel Galbán, whose long career in Cuban music started as Los Zafiros’ guitarist, and included several groups after the quintet’s demise, including an association with the Buena Vista Social Club. As Paquito D’Rivera explains in his autobiography, international touring is the goal of every professional Cuban musician, so it is with understandable pride that Galbán states: “I’ve been on tour 93 times and as long as I’m alive, I want to keep representing my country’s culture.”
There is a political subtext to Zafiros that remains largely unspoken throughout the film. It appears that Cancio opted for freedom in the U.S., while Galbán has come to terms with the Castro regime. Yet they greet each other as brothers, laughing and performing together with joy during their reunion.
There are some dramatic scenes in the film, as when Cancio visits with the brother of a late band-mate. There are many spirited performances as well. The original Zafiros remained so popular they actually spawned a new, younger version, Los Nuevos Zafiros, who join with Cancio and Galbán for a performance of “Ofelia,” one of the film’s highlights, enjoyed by a street audience, including the composer, Guillermo Belén Pacheco.
The music of Los Zafiros is actually a very satisfying blend of American style doo-wop and Latin rhythms. The extra section includes four entire performances that emphasize their Cuban sabor, including “Rumba Como Quiera” and “Congo Len.” Also included in the generous extras are deleted scenes, including the revelation of Los Zafiros’ Stuart Sutcliffe (the film often suggests they were the Cuban equivalent of the Beatles), Oscar Aguirre, their first guitarist who parted company with the group prior to their enormous success.
Los Zafiros definitely aims for a Buena Vista appeal, and it is not an inappropriate comparison. Despite the feeling one gets when watching Zafiros that so much is going unsaid, their music is distinctive and quite infectious, and ultimately the music is what their story is all about.
Directed by Lorenzo DeStefano
Shout! Factory
To understate matters, 1962 was an interesting year in Cuba to form a vocal quintet heavily influenced by American doo-wop. However, that is exactly what Los Zafiros (The Sapphires) did, becoming tremendously popular (both in Cuba and on world tours) for nearly two decades, fusing vocal harmonies with bossa, rumba, and conga rhythms. The two living members of Los Zafiros reunite for music and reminiscences in the documentary Los Zafiros: Music from the Edge of Time (trailer here).
Miguel Cancio, an original founding member, currently lives in Florida, but was allowed to return to Cuba with filmmaker Lorenzo DeStefano’s crew. Having immigrated to America, leaving behind friends and family, Cancio’s story is wrapped up in themes of exile, belonging, and patriotism. In an early interview Cancio says:
“I adore my country because he who doesn’t love his country, loves no one. I feel I am a good Cuban, but this is my second country.”
His surviving colleague is Manuel Galbán, whose long career in Cuban music started as Los Zafiros’ guitarist, and included several groups after the quintet’s demise, including an association with the Buena Vista Social Club. As Paquito D’Rivera explains in his autobiography, international touring is the goal of every professional Cuban musician, so it is with understandable pride that Galbán states: “I’ve been on tour 93 times and as long as I’m alive, I want to keep representing my country’s culture.”
There is a political subtext to Zafiros that remains largely unspoken throughout the film. It appears that Cancio opted for freedom in the U.S., while Galbán has come to terms with the Castro regime. Yet they greet each other as brothers, laughing and performing together with joy during their reunion.
There are some dramatic scenes in the film, as when Cancio visits with the brother of a late band-mate. There are many spirited performances as well. The original Zafiros remained so popular they actually spawned a new, younger version, Los Nuevos Zafiros, who join with Cancio and Galbán for a performance of “Ofelia,” one of the film’s highlights, enjoyed by a street audience, including the composer, Guillermo Belén Pacheco.
The music of Los Zafiros is actually a very satisfying blend of American style doo-wop and Latin rhythms. The extra section includes four entire performances that emphasize their Cuban sabor, including “Rumba Como Quiera” and “Congo Len.” Also included in the generous extras are deleted scenes, including the revelation of Los Zafiros’ Stuart Sutcliffe (the film often suggests they were the Cuban equivalent of the Beatles), Oscar Aguirre, their first guitarist who parted company with the group prior to their enormous success.
Los Zafiros definitely aims for a Buena Vista appeal, and it is not an inappropriate comparison. Despite the feeling one gets when watching Zafiros that so much is going unsaid, their music is distinctive and quite infectious, and ultimately the music is what their story is all about.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Coming Soon: The Hunting Party
In October 2000 Scott Anderson wrote “What I Did on My Summer Vacation,” an article for Esquire magazine about his booze fueled misadventures, with four journalists friends (including Sebastian Junger of Perfect Storm fame), trying to track down the Bosnian Serb war criminal Radovan Karadzic. According to his article: “In the four and a half years since the war in Bosnia had ended, only forty-eight of the ninety-four men indicted for war crimes by the International Criminal Tribunal in The Hague had been captured.” In the seven years since its publication, one doubts many more war criminals have been caught, but the film The Hunting Party loosely based on Anderson’s piece has been produced and opens in New York September 7th, expanding successively wider the 14th and 21st (trailer here).Written and directed by Richard Shepard, The Hunting Party boldly announces: “Only the most ridiculous parts of this story are true.” While there are flashes of inspiration throughout the film, and the opening and closing sequences border on brilliant, in-between Hunting Party simply is not as wildly unbelievable as it likes to think. Instead of the five journalist friends with more liquor and enthusiasm than sense, Hunting Party cuts the search party down to three, diversifying their backgrounds. Richard Gere plays down-and-out gonzo reporter Simon Hunt. Terrence Howard plays Duck, his former camera man, now enjoying a cushy network gig, and Jesse Eisenberg plays Benjamin, the annoying rookie journalist and son of a network big wig.
The strongest element of Party is its sense of place. Shot on location in Sarajevo and Croatia (doubling for Serbia), it presents a world literally scarred by war and figuratively haunted by ghosts. Their search for The Fox, the fictionalized version of Karadzic, takes on some intriguing twists and turns. Along the way, the United Nation’s incompetence is exposed (again), when the official attached to the International Police Task Force tells them he would be happy to make apprehending war criminals a priority, but he does not have a copy of the indictment list or a working fax machine—an episode the film deliberately points out was based on fact.
Gere emotes all over the screen as the tortured Hunt. Howard’s Duck however, having lost his spirit since selling out for network comfort, is understandably reserved and understated. Eisenberg’s Benjamin is simply irritating. Together they do not present a strong rooting interest. The strongest personalities on-screen are actually two small supporting parts. Mark Ivanir comes across as quirky but humane as Boris, the Bulgarian officer attached to the UN peacekeeping force, who wants to do the right thing, even if it is outside his official mandate. Also, Dylan Baker gets to chew on some of the film’s best dialogue as an arrogant CIA spook who materializes late in the film.
Hunting Party has its strengths and weakness. Despite some bland and clichéd characterizations, it moves along at a fast clip, and it does raise some valid questions. Was there a secret deal cut to protect war criminals like Karadzic during the 1995 peace talks? When the truth comes out on the Clinton administration, the real arsenic may be in their Bosnian record. For years, Clinton ignored the suffering of the Bosnians by steadfastly defending the arms embargo, which benefited the Serbs (and their Bosnian Serb allies by extension), as Serbia controlled most of the former Yugoslav army’s munitions. Did that administration also establish a policy of turning a blind eye to the fate of war criminals? A character in Hunting Party points out that they were able to find The Fox in a matter of days, whereas the UN, CIA, and NATO had five years, but were unsuccessful. Unfortunately, that is not too ridiculous to be true.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Camp Meeting
Camp Meeting
By Bruce Hornsby with Christian McBride and Jack DeJohnette
Columbia Legacy
A recent cliché (that is already tired) is that of pop stars looking to reinvent themselves by muddling through a set of vocal standards with imitation Nelson Riddle arrangements. Far from being the instrumental equivalent of such projects, Bruce Hornsby’s debut jazz recording is the real deal. Blessed with rock steady support from Christian McBride on bass and Jack DeJohnette on drums, Hornsby shows real jazz chops and respect for the tradition on Camp Meeting.
Meeting begins on an auspicious note, with “Questions and Answers,” a hitherto unrecorded composition by the Pulitzer Prize winning Ornette Coleman. Brimming with nervous energy and propelled along by DeJohnette’s electronically augmented percussion, it is an attention getter that does right by the spirit of its composer. The vibe continues on “Charlie, Woody and You,” an original blues based a Charles Ives work, as Hornsby mixes the down-home with the dissonant. Clearly, this is not frothy Dudley Moore celebrity cocktail jazz.
Hornsby is one of the few pop/rock/etc musicians whose jazz affinities make perfect intuitive sense. His country-rhapsody solos on pop hits like “The Way It Is” certainly demonstrated a command of his instrument and a distinct stylistic voice. That identifiable Hornsby sound is still there in his jazz, particularly his originals like the blues drenched title track, also featuring some programmed augmentation from DeJohnette, and the swinging hoedown “Stacked Mary Possum.” Both are catchy melodies performed with verve by a cohesive trio unit.
In addition to Coleman, Hornsby interprets some classic jazz standards, including John Coltrane’s “Giant Steps” given an unusually brisk tempo, featuring dexterously fleet solos from Hornsby and McBride. Miles Davis’ “Solar” starts with a delicate Third Stream style intro from Hornsby, picking up steam from DeJohnette’s percussive effects, as it segues into an idiosyncratic swinger.
Arguably, Hornsby's jazz debut may have been his cover version of “Backhand” contributed to a 2000 Keith Jarrett tribute album, As Long As You’re Living Yours. He shows his range by returning to Jarrett again here, with a sensitive solo interpretation of “Death and Flower.”
In Meeting, Hornsby proves to be an eloquent jazz soloist. His all-star rhythm-mates lock-in with him throughout, with the session benefiting from their drive and DeJohnette’s witty accents. It will be interesting to see what Meeting portends for Hornsby’s future career directions, but as a jazz album, it is as legit as it gets.
By Bruce Hornsby with Christian McBride and Jack DeJohnette
Columbia Legacy
A recent cliché (that is already tired) is that of pop stars looking to reinvent themselves by muddling through a set of vocal standards with imitation Nelson Riddle arrangements. Far from being the instrumental equivalent of such projects, Bruce Hornsby’s debut jazz recording is the real deal. Blessed with rock steady support from Christian McBride on bass and Jack DeJohnette on drums, Hornsby shows real jazz chops and respect for the tradition on Camp Meeting.
Meeting begins on an auspicious note, with “Questions and Answers,” a hitherto unrecorded composition by the Pulitzer Prize winning Ornette Coleman. Brimming with nervous energy and propelled along by DeJohnette’s electronically augmented percussion, it is an attention getter that does right by the spirit of its composer. The vibe continues on “Charlie, Woody and You,” an original blues based a Charles Ives work, as Hornsby mixes the down-home with the dissonant. Clearly, this is not frothy Dudley Moore celebrity cocktail jazz.
Hornsby is one of the few pop/rock/etc musicians whose jazz affinities make perfect intuitive sense. His country-rhapsody solos on pop hits like “The Way It Is” certainly demonstrated a command of his instrument and a distinct stylistic voice. That identifiable Hornsby sound is still there in his jazz, particularly his originals like the blues drenched title track, also featuring some programmed augmentation from DeJohnette, and the swinging hoedown “Stacked Mary Possum.” Both are catchy melodies performed with verve by a cohesive trio unit.
In addition to Coleman, Hornsby interprets some classic jazz standards, including John Coltrane’s “Giant Steps” given an unusually brisk tempo, featuring dexterously fleet solos from Hornsby and McBride. Miles Davis’ “Solar” starts with a delicate Third Stream style intro from Hornsby, picking up steam from DeJohnette’s percussive effects, as it segues into an idiosyncratic swinger.
Arguably, Hornsby's jazz debut may have been his cover version of “Backhand” contributed to a 2000 Keith Jarrett tribute album, As Long As You’re Living Yours. He shows his range by returning to Jarrett again here, with a sensitive solo interpretation of “Death and Flower.”
In Meeting, Hornsby proves to be an eloquent jazz soloist. His all-star rhythm-mates lock-in with him throughout, with the session benefiting from their drive and DeJohnette’s witty accents. It will be interesting to see what Meeting portends for Hornsby’s future career directions, but as a jazz album, it is as legit as it gets.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Jazz Mavericks of the Lone Star State
Jazz Mavericks of the Lone Star State
By Dave Oliphant
University of Texas Press
978-0-292-71496-0
Clint Eastwood is fond of crediting jazz and westerns as America’s two original contributions to world culture. The place of Texas in the history of the western is undeniable. In his latest book, Jazz Mavericks of the Lone Star State, Dave Oliphant makes a case for Texas’ pride of place in jazz history as well.
When jazz listeners think Texas, they think tenor sax, specifically the lusty, honking Texas Tenor tradition, including musicians like Arnett Cobb and Illinois Jacquet. They are mentioned here, but not in great depth, because Mavericks is actually a collection of writings, many of which were written to fill in gaps in Oliphant’s previous Texan Jazz. As a result, some of the pieces, particularly the first two, can be a tad repetitive in listing names of Texan jazz musicians.
One Texas titan covered well here is Ornette Coleman, through reviews of John Litweiler’s biography and a 2004 concert, which was his first in Texas in twenty years. Oliphant recounts many of the struggles of the jazz innovators career, both celebrated and lesser known, including his tangles with the labor regulations of 1960’s Great Britain. Oliphant writes:
“the same British musicians union and the Labour Ministry that had frustrated and inspired him three years earlier declared Coleman’s achievements irrelevant, and so he had to compose Emotion Modulation in order to qualify again as a ‘concert artist.’” (p. 126)
Oliphant discusses many Texas jazz artists, but stops short of identifying a specific Texas style (apart from that of the Texas Tenor tradition). At times though, he does speculate on the effect of a Texas upbringing on an artist’s music. He describes trailblazing electric guitarist and trombonist Eddie Durham (of San Marcos) as someone who:
“grew up making his own instruments, who was a crack shot with a rifle, who, when he hunted rattlesnakes, wore his boots and looked where he was going, and who shared with his musicians all that he had learned, having grown up in a family that worked and played together.” (p. 185)
While much of Mavericks is good spirited Texan jazz boosterism, Oliphant is not afraid to mix it up a little, taking aim at Howard Reich and William Gaines, co-authors of a 2003 biography of Jelly Roll Morton. Oliphant takes particular exception to their treatment of folklorist Alan Lomax, whose Library of Congress oral history tapes of Morton formed the basis of his biography Mister Jelly Roll. Oliphant writes:
“The accusation that Lomax ‘grilled Morton about sex, mayhem, and murders’ when ‘Morton wanted to talk about music’ distorts the contents of Lomax’s book. Moreover, the authors spend a good part of their own first chapter describing the New Orleans red-light district in raunchier detail than anything offered by Mister Jelly Roll. Most of what we know about Jelly’s views on his and others’ music is to be found in Lomax’s writings, and much of this information has been silently plowed back into the prose of Reich and Gaines.” p. 165)
Of course, Lomax was from Austin. (As they say, don’t mess with Texas.) Throughout Mavericks, Oliphant shows a loyalty to Texas musicians, and indeed, the state can claim many worthy trailblazers, like Durham and Coleman. As with most collections, Mavericks is a little uneven, but it is a quick read and often quite informative.
By Dave Oliphant
University of Texas Press
978-0-292-71496-0
Clint Eastwood is fond of crediting jazz and westerns as America’s two original contributions to world culture. The place of Texas in the history of the western is undeniable. In his latest book, Jazz Mavericks of the Lone Star State, Dave Oliphant makes a case for Texas’ pride of place in jazz history as well.
When jazz listeners think Texas, they think tenor sax, specifically the lusty, honking Texas Tenor tradition, including musicians like Arnett Cobb and Illinois Jacquet. They are mentioned here, but not in great depth, because Mavericks is actually a collection of writings, many of which were written to fill in gaps in Oliphant’s previous Texan Jazz. As a result, some of the pieces, particularly the first two, can be a tad repetitive in listing names of Texan jazz musicians.
One Texas titan covered well here is Ornette Coleman, through reviews of John Litweiler’s biography and a 2004 concert, which was his first in Texas in twenty years. Oliphant recounts many of the struggles of the jazz innovators career, both celebrated and lesser known, including his tangles with the labor regulations of 1960’s Great Britain. Oliphant writes:
“the same British musicians union and the Labour Ministry that had frustrated and inspired him three years earlier declared Coleman’s achievements irrelevant, and so he had to compose Emotion Modulation in order to qualify again as a ‘concert artist.’” (p. 126)
Oliphant discusses many Texas jazz artists, but stops short of identifying a specific Texas style (apart from that of the Texas Tenor tradition). At times though, he does speculate on the effect of a Texas upbringing on an artist’s music. He describes trailblazing electric guitarist and trombonist Eddie Durham (of San Marcos) as someone who:
“grew up making his own instruments, who was a crack shot with a rifle, who, when he hunted rattlesnakes, wore his boots and looked where he was going, and who shared with his musicians all that he had learned, having grown up in a family that worked and played together.” (p. 185)
While much of Mavericks is good spirited Texan jazz boosterism, Oliphant is not afraid to mix it up a little, taking aim at Howard Reich and William Gaines, co-authors of a 2003 biography of Jelly Roll Morton. Oliphant takes particular exception to their treatment of folklorist Alan Lomax, whose Library of Congress oral history tapes of Morton formed the basis of his biography Mister Jelly Roll. Oliphant writes:
“The accusation that Lomax ‘grilled Morton about sex, mayhem, and murders’ when ‘Morton wanted to talk about music’ distorts the contents of Lomax’s book. Moreover, the authors spend a good part of their own first chapter describing the New Orleans red-light district in raunchier detail than anything offered by Mister Jelly Roll. Most of what we know about Jelly’s views on his and others’ music is to be found in Lomax’s writings, and much of this information has been silently plowed back into the prose of Reich and Gaines.” p. 165)
Of course, Lomax was from Austin. (As they say, don’t mess with Texas.) Throughout Mavericks, Oliphant shows a loyalty to Texas musicians, and indeed, the state can claim many worthy trailblazers, like Durham and Coleman. As with most collections, Mavericks is a little uneven, but it is a quick read and often quite informative.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Covering Costs
As I visit Denver from time to time, I have come to appreciate its jazz scene. Some excellent artists make their home there, including Fred Hess, Ron Miles, Pat Bianchi and Chie Imaizumi. While it can’t compare to the New York club scene, which features multiple headliners of international stature every night, it does have some reliable venues to hear live jazz. According to the Denver Post though, business is not great. Some club owners were pretty candid about their finances:
“Dazzle expects to pull in $1.3 million in revenue this year - but there won't be any profit. [Club owner Donald] Rossa said his sales only cover operations.
Jazz @ Jack's on the 16th Street Mall should take in $750,000 this year but is still paying off startup costs, said owner Sandra Holman-Watts. “
The experience of Denver club owners actually highlights one of the oft-overlooked positive aspects of the free enterprise system: the freedom to send good money after bad. Under socialized systems, government controlled resources would be allocated under the best case scenario to projects with the broadest utilitarian appeal. In practice, they go to those with political connections. Neither broad popular appeal nor political clout, have been strong suits for jazz as of late.
Jazz has been historically blessed with entrepreneurs who were content to eke out a living by making the music available to a loyal audience. Those campaigning for a government subsidized performance space should take a look at the local taxes and regulations which make it so difficult to do business in New York. Club owner Lorraine Gordon complains of “the board of health, the fire department, the I.R.S.—all the departments that run your business in New York City, whether you like it or not,” in her book Alive at the Village Vanguard. (p. 206) Rather than entitlements that could actually lead to real resentment for the music, jazz supporters ought to be advocating empowerment-zone style tax cuts and regulatory relief. Those like Rossa, who voluntarily chose to spend their capitol on the music, despite having better returns on their investments available to them, deserve a break.
“Dazzle expects to pull in $1.3 million in revenue this year - but there won't be any profit. [Club owner Donald] Rossa said his sales only cover operations.
Jazz @ Jack's on the 16th Street Mall should take in $750,000 this year but is still paying off startup costs, said owner Sandra Holman-Watts. “
The experience of Denver club owners actually highlights one of the oft-overlooked positive aspects of the free enterprise system: the freedom to send good money after bad. Under socialized systems, government controlled resources would be allocated under the best case scenario to projects with the broadest utilitarian appeal. In practice, they go to those with political connections. Neither broad popular appeal nor political clout, have been strong suits for jazz as of late.
Jazz has been historically blessed with entrepreneurs who were content to eke out a living by making the music available to a loyal audience. Those campaigning for a government subsidized performance space should take a look at the local taxes and regulations which make it so difficult to do business in New York. Club owner Lorraine Gordon complains of “the board of health, the fire department, the I.R.S.—all the departments that run your business in New York City, whether you like it or not,” in her book Alive at the Village Vanguard. (p. 206) Rather than entitlements that could actually lead to real resentment for the music, jazz supporters ought to be advocating empowerment-zone style tax cuts and regulatory relief. Those like Rossa, who voluntarily chose to spend their capitol on the music, despite having better returns on their investments available to them, deserve a break.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Louis Armstrong’s New Orleans
Louis Armstrong’s New Orleans
By Thomas Brothers
W.W. Norton tradepaper
978-393-33001-4
Jazz historians have generally subscribed to the “great man” theory of history, placing prominent innovators like Armstrong and Ellington in the Jazz Pantheon. Their contributions are seen as not just revolutionary, but deliberate and singular to their genius. Thomas Brothers’ Louis Armstrong’s New Orleans takes a different approach, placing more influence on Armstrong’s environment and how it shaped his music.
Brothers’ book is not a biography per se, but rather a cultural examination of the Crescent City during the years Armstrong lived there. There are certainly details of the early formative events of Armstrong’s life, like his first proper musical instruction and organized band experience at the Colored Waif’s Home for Boys. However, Thomas places nearly equal emphasis on the music of rag-pickers and street merchants Armstrong absorbed prior to his time at the Waif’s Home. According to a manuscript passage cut from his memoir unearthed by Brothers, the musician wrote of a rag-picker named Larenzo: “the things he said, pertaining to music, had me spellbound.” (p. 55)
Although much has been made of Armstrong’s childhood circumstances, Brothers seems more inclined to defend his mother, Mary Ann (Mayann) Albert, particularly for exposing him to the influence of the Sanctified Church and instilling a work ethic in him. Brothers quotes her advice to a young Armstrong: “never worry about what the other feller has got. Try and get something your self.” (p. 76)
While Brothers does not really try to diminish Armstrong’s accomplishments, he does look for obscure influences and unrecognized role models. He does make a compelling case for the influence of cornetist Buddy Petit. Brothers argues:
“Both specialized in nicely sculpted improvisations marked by harmonic precision. Both were fast fingerers and skillful in bringing blues touches to any kind of melody. Petit, like Armstrong, had a fertile imagination. ‘He’d stay in the staff and . . . make you dizzy with the variation he’d make,’ said trumpeter Abert Waters.” (p. 267)
Brothers is clearly a passionate authority on not just the music of Louis Armstrong, but the entire cultural milieu of early twentieth century New Orleans. His prose though, can be a bit slow to plow through. While maybe not an essential volume on Armstrong, Brothers’ book provides valuable insight on his lesser known contemporaries, including figures like Petit.
By Thomas Brothers
W.W. Norton tradepaper
978-393-33001-4
Jazz historians have generally subscribed to the “great man” theory of history, placing prominent innovators like Armstrong and Ellington in the Jazz Pantheon. Their contributions are seen as not just revolutionary, but deliberate and singular to their genius. Thomas Brothers’ Louis Armstrong’s New Orleans takes a different approach, placing more influence on Armstrong’s environment and how it shaped his music.
Brothers’ book is not a biography per se, but rather a cultural examination of the Crescent City during the years Armstrong lived there. There are certainly details of the early formative events of Armstrong’s life, like his first proper musical instruction and organized band experience at the Colored Waif’s Home for Boys. However, Thomas places nearly equal emphasis on the music of rag-pickers and street merchants Armstrong absorbed prior to his time at the Waif’s Home. According to a manuscript passage cut from his memoir unearthed by Brothers, the musician wrote of a rag-picker named Larenzo: “the things he said, pertaining to music, had me spellbound.” (p. 55)
Although much has been made of Armstrong’s childhood circumstances, Brothers seems more inclined to defend his mother, Mary Ann (Mayann) Albert, particularly for exposing him to the influence of the Sanctified Church and instilling a work ethic in him. Brothers quotes her advice to a young Armstrong: “never worry about what the other feller has got. Try and get something your self.” (p. 76)
While Brothers does not really try to diminish Armstrong’s accomplishments, he does look for obscure influences and unrecognized role models. He does make a compelling case for the influence of cornetist Buddy Petit. Brothers argues:
“Both specialized in nicely sculpted improvisations marked by harmonic precision. Both were fast fingerers and skillful in bringing blues touches to any kind of melody. Petit, like Armstrong, had a fertile imagination. ‘He’d stay in the staff and . . . make you dizzy with the variation he’d make,’ said trumpeter Abert Waters.” (p. 267)
Brothers is clearly a passionate authority on not just the music of Louis Armstrong, but the entire cultural milieu of early twentieth century New Orleans. His prose though, can be a bit slow to plow through. While maybe not an essential volume on Armstrong, Brothers’ book provides valuable insight on his lesser known contemporaries, including figures like Petit.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Coming in October: O Jerusalem
“If God is not here, he is nowhere,” says a character in O Jerusalem, while looking over the city which holds the holiest sites of the world’s three major religions. O Jerusalem, a new film based on the novel by Dominique Lapierre and Larry Collins dramatizing early events in the founding of the State of Israel, tries to avoid taking sides in the greater political debate, instead focusing on personal dramas set against the historical backdrop.Of course, the filmmakers may make a good faith effort at being honest brokers, but there are indeed some differences in how each side is portrayed. The central relationship of the film is a the friendship between Bobby Goldman, an American Jew newly returned from WWII, and Saïd Chahine, a Palestinian Arab studying law in America. They become fast friends in New York, but find themselves called to Jerusalem to take sides in the impending conflict, as the British prepare to withdraw.
Goldman and Chahine are used even-handedly to humanize their respective sides in the conflict. Each sees tragedy first hand, yet both men retain some remnant of their former friendship. In representing their comrades, French Jewish director and co-screenwriter Elie Chouraqui seems to give the Arab Palestinians a slight advantage. While both sides kill in the heat of battle, it is only atrocities committed by Jewish extremists at Deir Yassin that are vividly pictured on screen (although the resulting horror felt by Goldman and the Haganah regulars is made clear).
Certainly, the Holocaust figures prominently in Jerusalem, but it is not graphically depicted, except in brief archival footage. Goldman’s girlfriend movingly tells of her experiences in a concentration camp. However, the filmmakers show no images of Arab terrorist attacks, and decline to explain the fact that the Arab forces arrayed against Israel had also allied themselves with Hitler and the National Socialists.
The personal drama of Jerusalem is often quite moving. It is probably one of the better films portraying the loss and grief of war. People were literally crying during the final scenes last night. The dramatic situations are effectively underscored by Stephen Endelman’s music. His orchestral themes have a logical Middle Eastern flavor, often complimented by strings and voices.
Coming in under two hours, Jerusalem is quite manageable for a historical docudrama. If anything, it seems to end a little early from a historical point of view, with events on screen essentially ending with the cease fire of June 11, 1948, leaving the rest of the history to be summarized by voice-over. It is however, a point of stark dramatic climax for the film’s characters.
Saïd Taghmaoui brings real intensity to the role of Chahine and J.J. Feild seems to grow into the role of Goldman as the film progresses. The best known actors of Jerusalem have smaller parts based on historical figures. Tovah Feldshuh seems to own the role of Golda Meir, having portrayed her during a successful Broadway run for the one-woman show Golda’s Balcony, and she is convincing returning to the role here. Tom Conti wrings every drop of dignity and regret he can from the small role of Sir Allan Cunningham, the British High Commissioner. Sir Ian Holm however, is less effective as David Ben-Gurion in a performance that comes across as a bit of a caricature.
Jerusalem is often quite moving, and it is consistently interesting to watch the filmmakers walk the tightrope between each side of the conflict. While Arab Palestinians might have a slight edge in the film’s historical treatment, the film is far from being anti-Israel, as it seems to personally identify closer with its Israeli characters. Israelis would probably settle for such media treatment every chance they can. Audiences can judge for themselves when O Jerusalem opens in New York on October 17th. (The French trailer is available here.)
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
The Music of Freedom in South Florida
Recently, Arturo Sandoval celebrated the one year anniversary of his South Florida jazz club, which has brought many of the real-deal top names in jazz to the area. Sandoval, whose defection from Cuba was dramatized in the HBO bio-pic For Love or Country, has risked much for the sake of artistic expression. Now he’s involved in free enterprise as well. Sandoval explains his motives for this venture in the September issue of Downbeat, telling Eliseo Cardona:
“It was simple: I wanted to become the first Cubanito to show how rich jazz is in the land of its birth . . . Growing up in Cuba, we couldn’t listen to jazz because this music was banned by the government. Castro thought it was counter-revolutionary. My mission was this: In the land of freedom, you have to play the music of freedom.”
Sandoval’s club has brought in a diverse roster of artists, including Ivan Lins, Jason Moran, Greg Osby, the Bad Plus, and John Scofield, as well as the trumpeter himself. Of course, opening a jazz club is a speculative venture, particularly so in Miami where jazz venues like MoJazz and Upstairs at the Van Dyke have closed in recent years. Downbeat’s piece is otherwise informative, but one would think they would include the club’s website for those interested in checking it out when in Miami.
Sandoval and his fellow defector and musical associate Paquito D’Rivera are well regarded in the Cuban-American and jazz communities. They harbor no illusions about the dictator of their homeland. D’Rivera has been particularly outspoken on the crimes perpetrated by the Castro regime. That’s why I have suggested voting for both artists in the Downbeat readers poll. There is still time for GOTV efforts (voting ends 8/31). You can vote here for Rivera in the clarinet and alto categories and Sandoval in the trumpet categories (clarinet via drop down menu, the alto and trumpet categories as write-in’s). Again, both artists are universally respected as musicians, so nobody would begrudge them their victories. They also understand only too well why jazz is the music of freedom, having been denied it by a bearded tyrant.
“It was simple: I wanted to become the first Cubanito to show how rich jazz is in the land of its birth . . . Growing up in Cuba, we couldn’t listen to jazz because this music was banned by the government. Castro thought it was counter-revolutionary. My mission was this: In the land of freedom, you have to play the music of freedom.”
Sandoval’s club has brought in a diverse roster of artists, including Ivan Lins, Jason Moran, Greg Osby, the Bad Plus, and John Scofield, as well as the trumpeter himself. Of course, opening a jazz club is a speculative venture, particularly so in Miami where jazz venues like MoJazz and Upstairs at the Van Dyke have closed in recent years. Downbeat’s piece is otherwise informative, but one would think they would include the club’s website for those interested in checking it out when in Miami.
Sandoval and his fellow defector and musical associate Paquito D’Rivera are well regarded in the Cuban-American and jazz communities. They harbor no illusions about the dictator of their homeland. D’Rivera has been particularly outspoken on the crimes perpetrated by the Castro regime. That’s why I have suggested voting for both artists in the Downbeat readers poll. There is still time for GOTV efforts (voting ends 8/31). You can vote here for Rivera in the clarinet and alto categories and Sandoval in the trumpet categories (clarinet via drop down menu, the alto and trumpet categories as write-in’s). Again, both artists are universally respected as musicians, so nobody would begrudge them their victories. They also understand only too well why jazz is the music of freedom, having been denied it by a bearded tyrant.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Solo in Mondsee
Solo in Mondsee
By Paul Bley
ECM
Solo piano can be a real challenge. Without bass or drums, the pianist is on their own for rhythm. Paul Bley makes it sound easy on Solo in Mondsee, an improvised solo session that is relaxed, and surprisingly melodic.
Recorded in Mondsee, Austria, each track is simply entitlted “Mondsee Variation I-X.” Each variation has its own character, but sounds like a piece of Bley’s whole. “Variation I” establishes a delicate, pensive mood, despite the foreboding introductory note delivered on the bass strings of the piano. The mood brightens and the tempo quickens with the “Variation II,” as Bley improvises first a pleasing melody, then reinterpreting it in various ways.
Solo is not simply contemplative music. Bley brings darker hues to “Variation VII” through discordant notes and some heavy left hand. “Variation VIII,” features a particularly strong rhythmic attack and Jarrett-esque hummed accompaniment. Throughout Bley shows masterful command of the Bösendorfer Imperial Grand, as with his impressive runs on “Variations V & X.”
Throughout Mondsee, Bley consistently takes each improvised “Variation” in surprising directions. He changes mood on a dime, spinning out sparkling melodies and embarking on free passages, while keeping a hint of the blues (still subtle, but perhaps easiest to hear on “Variation X” around 2:10).
Mondsee will doubtless be compared to other ECM solo piano sessions, like Bley’s first solo outing Open, To Love, and the work of Keith Jarrett, most notably his classic Köln Concert. Mondsee, like Köln, is strongly identified with the city it was recorded in, albeit under very different circumstances. The two also could be classified as jazz for classical music lovers (or perhaps vice versa).
As a solo improvised recital in its own right, Mondsee is a very strong session. Bley proves he is still an improviser of a high order. At times Mondsee is quite beautiful. Certainly agreeable as mere background music, it also rewards deeper, concerted listening.
By Paul Bley
ECM
Solo piano can be a real challenge. Without bass or drums, the pianist is on their own for rhythm. Paul Bley makes it sound easy on Solo in Mondsee, an improvised solo session that is relaxed, and surprisingly melodic.
Recorded in Mondsee, Austria, each track is simply entitlted “Mondsee Variation I-X.” Each variation has its own character, but sounds like a piece of Bley’s whole. “Variation I” establishes a delicate, pensive mood, despite the foreboding introductory note delivered on the bass strings of the piano. The mood brightens and the tempo quickens with the “Variation II,” as Bley improvises first a pleasing melody, then reinterpreting it in various ways.
Solo is not simply contemplative music. Bley brings darker hues to “Variation VII” through discordant notes and some heavy left hand. “Variation VIII,” features a particularly strong rhythmic attack and Jarrett-esque hummed accompaniment. Throughout Bley shows masterful command of the Bösendorfer Imperial Grand, as with his impressive runs on “Variations V & X.”
Throughout Mondsee, Bley consistently takes each improvised “Variation” in surprising directions. He changes mood on a dime, spinning out sparkling melodies and embarking on free passages, while keeping a hint of the blues (still subtle, but perhaps easiest to hear on “Variation X” around 2:10).
Mondsee will doubtless be compared to other ECM solo piano sessions, like Bley’s first solo outing Open, To Love, and the work of Keith Jarrett, most notably his classic Köln Concert. Mondsee, like Köln, is strongly identified with the city it was recorded in, albeit under very different circumstances. The two also could be classified as jazz for classical music lovers (or perhaps vice versa).
As a solo improvised recital in its own right, Mondsee is a very strong session. Bley proves he is still an improviser of a high order. At times Mondsee is quite beautiful. Certainly agreeable as mere background music, it also rewards deeper, concerted listening.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Montreux Tulls for Thee
Live at Montreux 2003
By Jethro Tull
Eagle Eye Media
There is some irony when Jethro Tull plays the odd jazz festival, which they have, despite being an avowed rock & roll band, albeit with blues roots. Front-man Ian Anderson has long acknowledged a debt to the one-of-a-kind jazz multi-instrumentalist Rahsaan Roland Kirk as a formative influence on his flute playing. That debt, which includes various over-blowing and vocalizing techniques, can be seen and heard in Jethro Tull’s Live at Montreux 2003 newly released on DVD and CD.
John Kruth interviewed Anderson for his Kirk bio Bright Moments, writing:
“He was a delightful chap, well spoken and quick witted. I wasn’t sure if he was paying homage or a karmic debt that many feel he owes Rahsaan. Either way his enthusiasm for Kirk’s music was clear.” (p. 191)
While Tull’s cover of “Serenade to a Cuckoo” did not make the Montreux set list, they did include some of their bluesier numbers. It’s not hard to hear the blues echoes in “Some Day the Sun Won’t Shine for You,” especially with Anderson introducing it on harmonica. If you can name any member of Tull besides Anderson, it is probably guitarist Martin Barre, who gets a guitar trio feature (sans Anderson) that comes respectably close to jazz on his brief but tasteful “Empty Café.”
There are some lingering resentments for Anderson’s commercial success capitalizing on Kirk’s innovations. Perhaps self-conscious when playing a somewhat jazz-oriented venue like Montreux as a result, Anderson joked:
By Jethro Tull
Eagle Eye Media
There is some irony when Jethro Tull plays the odd jazz festival, which they have, despite being an avowed rock & roll band, albeit with blues roots. Front-man Ian Anderson has long acknowledged a debt to the one-of-a-kind jazz multi-instrumentalist Rahsaan Roland Kirk as a formative influence on his flute playing. That debt, which includes various over-blowing and vocalizing techniques, can be seen and heard in Jethro Tull’s Live at Montreux 2003 newly released on DVD and CD.
John Kruth interviewed Anderson for his Kirk bio Bright Moments, writing:
“He was a delightful chap, well spoken and quick witted. I wasn’t sure if he was paying homage or a karmic debt that many feel he owes Rahsaan. Either way his enthusiasm for Kirk’s music was clear.” (p. 191)
While Tull’s cover of “Serenade to a Cuckoo” did not make the Montreux set list, they did include some of their bluesier numbers. It’s not hard to hear the blues echoes in “Some Day the Sun Won’t Shine for You,” especially with Anderson introducing it on harmonica. If you can name any member of Tull besides Anderson, it is probably guitarist Martin Barre, who gets a guitar trio feature (sans Anderson) that comes respectably close to jazz on his brief but tasteful “Empty Café.”
There are some lingering resentments for Anderson’s commercial success capitalizing on Kirk’s innovations. Perhaps self-conscious when playing a somewhat jazz-oriented venue like Montreux as a result, Anderson joked:
“We’re going to play something that mingles a little jazz with a little bit of classical music. It’s actually pretty sleazy cocktail lounge jazz. The worst you ever heard in your life at the very worst Holiday Inn you ever stayed in.”
Anderson must have stayed on some trippy Holiday Inns, as it was Bach’s “Bouree,” long a staple of Tull’s book, that Anderson was introducing, one of several Tull hits mixed with less recognizable older songs and some new material. As they did at each Tull I have attended (yep, I’ve been to two) they closed with “Aqualung” and used “Locomotive Breath” as their expected encore.
The surprise of the set was the relative strength of some of the newer material. “Eurology” (terrible pun) actually has an intriguing sound thanks to the addition of the “instrument from Hell: the German piano accordion” played by Andrew Giddings. Of the Tull classics, the percussive “Fat Man” may have been the highlight, with Barre sharing flute duties with Anderson.
Regardless how Kirk partisans feel about Anderson, as of 2003, he could still over-blow his hits. Tull is a fun live band, in good measure due to Anderson’s on stage sense of humor. Seeing them here is a blast of nostalgia, which is something festival programmers are definitely going for.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Take Five Instead
Jazz may not have a lot going for it with the general public, but it does have a well earned reputation for independence. That’s why the well-intentioned campaign for a city subsidized performance space for experimental jazz is troubling. It may trade away a significant part of jazz’s cultural capitol for a government entitlement.
This campaign by the Alliance for Creative Music Action was largely spurred by the closing of Tonic, which certainly was a great loss. However, given the number of fantastic gigs I have been to in recent weeks that were only moderately attended, I question the efficacy of demanding space from the city for subsidized venue (particularly if its shows are sparsely attended). Regardless, it is highly unlikely that the city would provide such subsidized space. (I can’t make ACMA’s 8/21 meeting, but would definitely be interested in what is discussed.)
Frankly jazz needs larger audiences more than it needs entitlements. Instead of writing letters and demonstrating, those who support this music should try to bring five jazz outsiders (not your jazz hang-buddies) to a show each month. That is, expanding the audience by bringing five people who would otherwise not be attending jazz gigs at all. (I have tried this for certain events in the past, and yes, it is real hard, but the results are immediately measurable.) If 100 people actually did this for three months in a row, it would expose 1,500 people to the music, which could result in tangible economic benefits for musicians.
Sales of jazz albums were down 8.3% last year according to Nielsen Soundscan. Jazz is losing market-share within an industry trending down. However, it is not because of the quality of the music released in 2006. The music is still vital. In fact, much of what I have heard live and on CD recently has been truly fantastic. The problem is jazz has not been effectively marketing to new listeners. Its true believers need to evangelize more, not look to Caesar for a subsidy.
This campaign by the Alliance for Creative Music Action was largely spurred by the closing of Tonic, which certainly was a great loss. However, given the number of fantastic gigs I have been to in recent weeks that were only moderately attended, I question the efficacy of demanding space from the city for subsidized venue (particularly if its shows are sparsely attended). Regardless, it is highly unlikely that the city would provide such subsidized space. (I can’t make ACMA’s 8/21 meeting, but would definitely be interested in what is discussed.)
Frankly jazz needs larger audiences more than it needs entitlements. Instead of writing letters and demonstrating, those who support this music should try to bring five jazz outsiders (not your jazz hang-buddies) to a show each month. That is, expanding the audience by bringing five people who would otherwise not be attending jazz gigs at all. (I have tried this for certain events in the past, and yes, it is real hard, but the results are immediately measurable.) If 100 people actually did this for three months in a row, it would expose 1,500 people to the music, which could result in tangible economic benefits for musicians.
Sales of jazz albums were down 8.3% last year according to Nielsen Soundscan. Jazz is losing market-share within an industry trending down. However, it is not because of the quality of the music released in 2006. The music is still vital. In fact, much of what I have heard live and on CD recently has been truly fantastic. The problem is jazz has not been effectively marketing to new listeners. Its true believers need to evangelize more, not look to Caesar for a subsidy.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Macedonia
MacedoniaBy Harvey Pekar and Heather Robinson. Illustrated by Ed Piskor
Villard tradepaper
9778-0-345-49899-1
Harvey Pekar’s greatest fame might be for his wildly uncomfortable guest appearances on the Letterman show and the Paul Giamatti film based on his autobiographical graphic novels. He is also a widely published jazz critic, who has also been known to broach more political subjects (a phenomenon we cannot object to). His latest graphic novel, Macedonia co-written by Heather Robinson, is such a departure, tackling recent events in the Balkans and wider themes of war and peace.
Macedonia is in fact very polemical. It certainly proves the dramatic challenges of providing historical exposition, often thinly disguised here as dialogue. Much of this background material is lucidly written, at times challenging preconceptions about the region. Even the term “Balkan” comes under scrutiny when Pekar and Robinson point out:
“The whole idea of the Balkans is only partly geographic. When the term came about in the 1800s, it was meant to describe Ottoman holdings in Europe . . . This idea persists that once a place is Balkan, it will always be Balkan. As if the place somehow imprints on its inhabitants a genetic destiny—one of war, fragmentation, and deceit.” (p. 25)
The basic narrative of Macedonia follows Robinson as she travels through the Balkan country, collecting evidence from its recent history to support her contention that war is not inevitable. It opens with her defending her major in Peace Studies to a skeptical Poli Sci professor (presumably one of the few conservatives on faculty at Berkley). While it is entertaining to hear him refer to her department as “all ideology,” their essential argument whether war is or is not an inevitable state of humanity seems like a bit of a straw man. Most critics of peace studies and peace movements would rather argue that the human cost of peace is often greater than war, as witnessed by the crimes of National Socialism, Communism, and Islamic Fascism. At times war may very well be prevented, but at what price?
There is much Balkan history and geopolitical analysis in Macedonia. As for actual plot and character development, it may leave some readers cold. Those who only read Pekar’s music writing will not find much of interest. In one scene Robinson’s friend Delisa jams with some Skopje street musicians, complaining of their chauvinist mind-set: “If I were a guy I could have gotten the guy to play his riff and it wouldn’t have been a big deal. But instead his friend was hitting on us and he’s showing off.” (p. 83) (Even in America, women musicians sometimes face these attitudes.)
However, Robinson’s carefully selected debate question does offer some interesting analysis in her Macedonian case study. It is true that Macedonia averted a Bosnian style war, but whether this was truly a case of peaceful strategies winning out over war is open to interpretation. As Macedonia explains, there was a very real armed Albanian insurrection. While short-lived and resulting in only a handful of casualties, it did lead to the Ohrid Agreement, which addressed the grievances of the Albanian minority. One might argue that this was so a swift and decisive victory for war, there was not time for the atrocities seen elsewhere in the former-Yugoslavia.
Conversely, the horrors of Bosnia could just as easily be attributed to strategies of “peace.” The UN’s record of defending its so-called safe havens” is simply tragic. Bosnians were also disproportionately disadvantaged by the UN arms embargo, as the Serbs controlled most of the former Yugoslav army (JNA)’s arms. Although in press materials Robertson says “They name streets after Bill Clinton” in Kosovo, one doubts they have the same regard for him in Bosnia and Herzegovina, since he twice vetoed Congressional resolutions calling for an end to the embargo. The eventual cease fire did not come until Bosnia and Croatian forces turned the tide against the Serbians.
It is true that Macedonia avoided the horrors Bosnia endured, even though Pekar and Robinson admit many of the underlying tensions remain. Much of that recent history, as recounted in Macedonia is fascinating. As an actual graphic novel, it is underdeveloped. Most characters are indistinguishable from each other, merely coming into the picture to announce their name, ethnicity, and designated geopolitical lesson to impart to readers.
The strongest aspect of Macedonia is the very real affection it expresses for the actual people of the Balkans. Macedonia actually makes readers want to visit Macedonia, when Pekar and Robinson write of Macedonians:
“Everyone teased each other. Told stories, interrupted each other. I missed interruptions. . . . Here, people get so engaged. They interrupt, they gesture.” (p. 128)
Ultimately, that fondness for Macedonia and its people gives the graphic novel heart, making it readable, despite its long passages of historical background and occasional ideological excesses (of course, there this the requisite slam on Pres. Bush, obligatory to the point of being boring). There is at least food for thought and debate here, something Robinson, to her credit, welcomes several times in the graphic novel.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
EW on NOLA
In the Aug. 10th issue Entertainment Weekly remembered there’s a little rebuilding going on in New Orleans. Their oral history style feature actually raises some interesting issues.
For one thing, they (perhaps accidentally) raise some important second amendment points:
“Antoinette K-Doe, owner of R&B venue the Mother-in-Law Lounge ‘We took on five and a half feet of water. I have an apartment upstairs, and I was up there seven and a half days. They did a lot of looting around here. Some guys were out there saying, “Tonight, we’re gonna go in the Mother-in-Law Lounge.” I shot over their heads with a shotgun. I said, “I don’t think y’all want to come in here.”
Joann Guidos, owner of music venue Kajun’s Pub ‘I pulled out my weapons to protect my place. We had a couple of people that made threats, and I said “Come on by, we’ll be here waiting.” They never came back. But I was running out of fuel and, on Sept. 7, U.S. Marshalls took all my weapons. I left Sept. 8.”
Later in the feature, EW listens to producers and actors currently filming in New Orleans. One makes an important point:
“Tony Kaye, director of Black Water Transit ‘Because the film is using the flood as a backdrop, we have to be careful. You don’t want to benefit from someone else’s misfortune.’”
It is great to bring productions to New Orleans, supporting the local economy. Focusing attention on circumstances in New Orleans can also be helpful, but individuals’ sensitivities and privacy should be respected. Robert Polidori’s photo exhibit at the Met last year crossed that line, intruding in the personal loss of hundreds of families, even identifying their street addresses in the photo titles. One can make a statement without the exploiting the people involved, and if Kaye gets that, it is to his credit.
For one thing, they (perhaps accidentally) raise some important second amendment points:
“Antoinette K-Doe, owner of R&B venue the Mother-in-Law Lounge ‘We took on five and a half feet of water. I have an apartment upstairs, and I was up there seven and a half days. They did a lot of looting around here. Some guys were out there saying, “Tonight, we’re gonna go in the Mother-in-Law Lounge.” I shot over their heads with a shotgun. I said, “I don’t think y’all want to come in here.”
Joann Guidos, owner of music venue Kajun’s Pub ‘I pulled out my weapons to protect my place. We had a couple of people that made threats, and I said “Come on by, we’ll be here waiting.” They never came back. But I was running out of fuel and, on Sept. 7, U.S. Marshalls took all my weapons. I left Sept. 8.”
Later in the feature, EW listens to producers and actors currently filming in New Orleans. One makes an important point:
“Tony Kaye, director of Black Water Transit ‘Because the film is using the flood as a backdrop, we have to be careful. You don’t want to benefit from someone else’s misfortune.’”
It is great to bring productions to New Orleans, supporting the local economy. Focusing attention on circumstances in New Orleans can also be helpful, but individuals’ sensitivities and privacy should be respected. Robert Polidori’s photo exhibit at the Met last year crossed that line, intruding in the personal loss of hundreds of families, even identifying their street addresses in the photo titles. One can make a statement without the exploiting the people involved, and if Kaye gets that, it is to his credit.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Jazz Cycles—the Music of Paul Nash
Jazz Cycles
Manhattan New Music Project performs Paul Nash
MNMP Records
Typically, artists do not realize when they are recording their final sessions, but when Paul Nash went into the studio on December 6, 2004, he understood the likelihood that would be the case for him. Nash, a composer and guitarist who led groups featuring musicians like Mark Isham and Tom Harrell early in their careers, would record his final sessions a year after being diagnosed with a brain tumor. Jazz Cycles, the first of the two resulting CDs to be released, is a fitting requiem for the composer.
A composer-led session, the music of Cycles was played by the latest incarnation of Nash’s Manhattan New Music Project (MNMP), consisting of many top musicians with impressive associations on their resumes, like tenor saxophonist Tim Ries, well-known for playing in the Rolling Stones’ back-up band and his own jazz-oriented Rolling Stone Project, and trumpeter Shane Endsley, who first gained notoriety for his work with Steve Coleman. Vic Juris had the intimidating duty of filling the guitar duties and acquits himself well. Together with alto and soprano saxophonist Bruce Williamson and a rhythm section of pianist Jim Ridl, bassist Jay Anderson, and drummer Grisha Alexiev, they perform Nash’s compositions with passion and precision.
Nash’s classical influences can be heard throughout, including the opener “Passaglia,” with a fervent alto solo from Williamson. It blends uninterrupted into the next track, the more urgent “Night Flight,” with short but vital solos from Endley, Juris, and Ries.
“Wind Over the Lake” is actually adapted from a larger orchestral work, one of two the Paul Nash Memorial Fund is raising money to record. Introduced by Williamson’s plaintive soprano, it shifts mood several times, suggesting the full original will be well worth hearing. Ridl contributes a tasteful solo and Ries makes an impassioned tenor statement, propelled along by Alexiev’s drums.
Cycles demonstates Nash’s range, including an idiosyncratic blues like “Strange Rife” and an up-tempo workout like “Outside In,” sparked by Willaimson’s soprano and Juris’ guitar. However, “It’s Only a Dream” in many ways best represents the session. It is a brisk, buoyant tune, featuring a swinging solo from Ridl, yet seems to have a wistful quality beneath the surface. The same is true of “Night Flight (Reprise),” except the undercurrent of melancholy is emphasized slightly more through Williamson’s soprano. It serves as an excellent vehicle for ensemble swing from a highly sympathetic group, emphasizing interplay over ego.
Clearly, the musicians assembled by Nash were inspired by the material. Nash composed some intriguing and pleasing melodies, which he well documents with the help of his friends and colleagues. It is a worthy memorial project and makes one hope the Paul Nash Memorial Fund has further success in bringing more of his compositions to a wider audience.
Manhattan New Music Project performs Paul Nash
MNMP Records
Typically, artists do not realize when they are recording their final sessions, but when Paul Nash went into the studio on December 6, 2004, he understood the likelihood that would be the case for him. Nash, a composer and guitarist who led groups featuring musicians like Mark Isham and Tom Harrell early in their careers, would record his final sessions a year after being diagnosed with a brain tumor. Jazz Cycles, the first of the two resulting CDs to be released, is a fitting requiem for the composer.
A composer-led session, the music of Cycles was played by the latest incarnation of Nash’s Manhattan New Music Project (MNMP), consisting of many top musicians with impressive associations on their resumes, like tenor saxophonist Tim Ries, well-known for playing in the Rolling Stones’ back-up band and his own jazz-oriented Rolling Stone Project, and trumpeter Shane Endsley, who first gained notoriety for his work with Steve Coleman. Vic Juris had the intimidating duty of filling the guitar duties and acquits himself well. Together with alto and soprano saxophonist Bruce Williamson and a rhythm section of pianist Jim Ridl, bassist Jay Anderson, and drummer Grisha Alexiev, they perform Nash’s compositions with passion and precision.
Nash’s classical influences can be heard throughout, including the opener “Passaglia,” with a fervent alto solo from Williamson. It blends uninterrupted into the next track, the more urgent “Night Flight,” with short but vital solos from Endley, Juris, and Ries.
“Wind Over the Lake” is actually adapted from a larger orchestral work, one of two the Paul Nash Memorial Fund is raising money to record. Introduced by Williamson’s plaintive soprano, it shifts mood several times, suggesting the full original will be well worth hearing. Ridl contributes a tasteful solo and Ries makes an impassioned tenor statement, propelled along by Alexiev’s drums.
Cycles demonstates Nash’s range, including an idiosyncratic blues like “Strange Rife” and an up-tempo workout like “Outside In,” sparked by Willaimson’s soprano and Juris’ guitar. However, “It’s Only a Dream” in many ways best represents the session. It is a brisk, buoyant tune, featuring a swinging solo from Ridl, yet seems to have a wistful quality beneath the surface. The same is true of “Night Flight (Reprise),” except the undercurrent of melancholy is emphasized slightly more through Williamson’s soprano. It serves as an excellent vehicle for ensemble swing from a highly sympathetic group, emphasizing interplay over ego.
Clearly, the musicians assembled by Nash were inspired by the material. Nash composed some intriguing and pleasing melodies, which he well documents with the help of his friends and colleagues. It is a worthy memorial project and makes one hope the Paul Nash Memorial Fund has further success in bringing more of his compositions to a wider audience.
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