This is what I get for not checking my Hour newsletters. I am stunned that Cinéma du Parc is going under. It's been a cornerstone of my life in Montreal, and more than that, it's usually been packed. Located right beside the New Residence of McGill University, and a very short walk away from the rest of the campus, it's in a central location of the city, easily accessible by metro and/or bus.
According to the press release on their site, it seems like it's yet another case of the multinational Goliaths devouring the hipper, trendier, smaller Davids. Never mind that AMC is a bigger business with comfier chairs, I've never really dug the atmosphere there. It's a legendary hockey stadium converted into a mall, complete with glaring fluorescent lights. There was always at least one movie that overlapped between AMC and du Parc, but I'd choose du Parc any day - it was more conducive to a student budget, for one, and it felt like you were sitting in your movie geek buddy's basement.
This doesn't rid Montreal of its rep cinemas, despite with the Hour article and the comments imply - it does rid Montreal of its Anglo rep cinema. It appears that CdP's sister theatre, Ex-Centris, will continue to be alive and well, and there's also le Parisien on Ste. Catherine.
The final screening at du Parc is scheduled for August 3. Fittingly, the film scheduled to be shown is The Corporation (which I never saw during its first run, anyway). I will do my damnedest to be there... for old times' sake.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Back to terra firma
My Cruise Ship X experience is behind me, and it has been populated by a spectrum of events that span from sheer misery to pure ecstacy. The last couple of weeks of my contract left me rather ambivalent about my departure - we had some personnel changes that raised the calibre of the band rather drastically, and I wish I was given more than two weeks to work with these colleagues.
Instead of discrediting the entire journey, I will say it has illuminated what I need out of music. I cannot abide by anything musical becoming merely a paycheque or a "job" - I'd rather take a day job and work on my personal endeavours on the side. I need to know who I'm performing with, especially when it's a nightly gig, and the unfortunate reality of pick-up bands is that the mystery is only revealed upon embarkation - which is a little late to back out. I have been spoiled by the music school opportunities of having colleagues consistently interested and capable of performing new music. And I have learned what it is to be a mentor to people, which was a very strange transition for me. I've always been the mentoree, the kid receiving and gleaning advice from my peers. To accept that I am now out of school and possibly have valid information to disseminate to other musicians is a very new concept to me.
Despite the realization of what I want out of music, I'm now staring down the crossroads of exactly how I wish to achieve it. Jazz is my primary love and the lens through which I view all other music (even those that I discovered before jazz), yet jamming out the R&B and funk with one of the mid-lounge bands was as thrilling as improvised music for me. And while I could never totally leave playing behind, composition is increasingly moving to the foreground of my interests. I don't believe I could follow all these paths and do each of them justice - there's just not enough hours in the day - so a choice must soon be made.
My last port before sign-off was Jamaica, and eleven of us made the pilgrimage out to Bob Marley's house in St. Ann. I'm not a rabid Marley devotee, but I felt very strongly that his house is vital to the history of music and of Jamaican culture and I would never forgive myself if I had missed the opportunity to pay respect. The drive was roughly an hour, through the hills of Jamaica, filled with both some gorgeous scenery and harrowing snapshots of the unfortunate reality of the Caribbean regions that are not the beneficiaries of the tourist dollar. Living in North America, we are often sheltered from the extreme economic stratifications that affect most of the planet. The excess of luxury vacation, and the sheer luck of being able to have any sort of decent employment (never mind whether it's what one loves to do) stood in stark contrast.
The first room one enters in the Marley complex is an open and bare one, with only a plaque commemorating the Legend compilation hanging from the wall, and his Witameyer upright piano sitting against another wall. My roommate had taken video on his first visit to Marley's place, and one clip showed a tourist plinking on the piano. I was unsure of whether I actually wanted to play that day, but between my own irresistible urge and the egging on of my friends, I sat down and played "Redemption Song." The piano was seemingly guarded by two Rastafarian men, but as I started playing, they started singing along, as did some of the other tourists. After the tour was over, a bunch of us hung around the bottom of the complex and listened to a guy playing "Three Little Birds" on banjo. I heard more piano tinkling from that same room, and went back to see what was going on. Those same two Rastas were still there, and they asked me to play again. After muddling through a little bit of "Lively Up Yourself," I started into "No Woman, No Cry." I immediately had goosebumps as everyone started singing along. The last time I had a similar experience was playing tunes at Banff that had any association with my friend Chris. As cheesy as this sounds, one can still feel Marley's energy emanating from that room.
Instead of discrediting the entire journey, I will say it has illuminated what I need out of music. I cannot abide by anything musical becoming merely a paycheque or a "job" - I'd rather take a day job and work on my personal endeavours on the side. I need to know who I'm performing with, especially when it's a nightly gig, and the unfortunate reality of pick-up bands is that the mystery is only revealed upon embarkation - which is a little late to back out. I have been spoiled by the music school opportunities of having colleagues consistently interested and capable of performing new music. And I have learned what it is to be a mentor to people, which was a very strange transition for me. I've always been the mentoree, the kid receiving and gleaning advice from my peers. To accept that I am now out of school and possibly have valid information to disseminate to other musicians is a very new concept to me.
Despite the realization of what I want out of music, I'm now staring down the crossroads of exactly how I wish to achieve it. Jazz is my primary love and the lens through which I view all other music (even those that I discovered before jazz), yet jamming out the R&B and funk with one of the mid-lounge bands was as thrilling as improvised music for me. And while I could never totally leave playing behind, composition is increasingly moving to the foreground of my interests. I don't believe I could follow all these paths and do each of them justice - there's just not enough hours in the day - so a choice must soon be made.
My last port before sign-off was Jamaica, and eleven of us made the pilgrimage out to Bob Marley's house in St. Ann. I'm not a rabid Marley devotee, but I felt very strongly that his house is vital to the history of music and of Jamaican culture and I would never forgive myself if I had missed the opportunity to pay respect. The drive was roughly an hour, through the hills of Jamaica, filled with both some gorgeous scenery and harrowing snapshots of the unfortunate reality of the Caribbean regions that are not the beneficiaries of the tourist dollar. Living in North America, we are often sheltered from the extreme economic stratifications that affect most of the planet. The excess of luxury vacation, and the sheer luck of being able to have any sort of decent employment (never mind whether it's what one loves to do) stood in stark contrast.
The first room one enters in the Marley complex is an open and bare one, with only a plaque commemorating the Legend compilation hanging from the wall, and his Witameyer upright piano sitting against another wall. My roommate had taken video on his first visit to Marley's place, and one clip showed a tourist plinking on the piano. I was unsure of whether I actually wanted to play that day, but between my own irresistible urge and the egging on of my friends, I sat down and played "Redemption Song." The piano was seemingly guarded by two Rastafarian men, but as I started playing, they started singing along, as did some of the other tourists. After the tour was over, a bunch of us hung around the bottom of the complex and listened to a guy playing "Three Little Birds" on banjo. I heard more piano tinkling from that same room, and went back to see what was going on. Those same two Rastas were still there, and they asked me to play again. After muddling through a little bit of "Lively Up Yourself," I started into "No Woman, No Cry." I immediately had goosebumps as everyone started singing along. The last time I had a similar experience was playing tunes at Banff that had any association with my friend Chris. As cheesy as this sounds, one can still feel Marley's energy emanating from that room.
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Memorials and remembrances
Due to the limited resources for connectivity on the cruise ships, I feel sorely out of touch with the world around me. I get the CBC and NPR blog feeds but rarely have enough time to investigate them past the headlines.
The last time I called home, I asked my parents what was going on in the world aside from the murder of al-Zarqawi, the ongoing saga of Israel/Palestine and World Cup. The first thing they told me was that Billy Preston had passed on. I'm no authority on his work, but I remember watching his playing on Eric Clapton's recent One More Car, One More Rider DVD and seeing him revel in the joy of music, and the way he interacted with David Sancious without stepping on any toes, and being mightily impressed. Of course, his classic contributions to the Beatles, Stones, Aretha, Ray Charles and many others are not to be ignored.
And as I check my blogs today, I see that Ligeti has died. The best tribute is here, courtesy of Ethan Iverson. Again, I am no expert in Ligeti (and certainly not to the extent that Iverson and Alex Ross are), but my introduction to his music remains vivid in my memory. At the beginning of my dalliance with 20th-century classical music in high school (which, incidentally, lay dormant until I got to university), I asked my band director for some of the weirdest stuff he could give me that he'd still think I'd like. In the pile was the Sony recording of Ligeti's Horn Trio, Six Bagatelles for Wind Quintet, Ten Pieces for Wind Quintet, and Sonata for Solo Viola. At the time, I didn't understand what was going on musically (and to this day I haven't investigated the scores enough to make that claim), but it was immediately affecting. Now I additionally admire Ligeti's struggle to find new forms of expression, his references to folkloric material without parroting or cheapening it (in the line of Stravinsky and Bartok) and his attention to instrumental detail (the French horn instructions in the wind quintets are maddeningly specific), but the emotional connection still remains strong.
It's unfortunate that my further investigation of Ligeti's music (and to a certain extent, Billy Preston's as well) will be catalysed by his passing.
The last time I called home, I asked my parents what was going on in the world aside from the murder of al-Zarqawi, the ongoing saga of Israel/Palestine and World Cup. The first thing they told me was that Billy Preston had passed on. I'm no authority on his work, but I remember watching his playing on Eric Clapton's recent One More Car, One More Rider DVD and seeing him revel in the joy of music, and the way he interacted with David Sancious without stepping on any toes, and being mightily impressed. Of course, his classic contributions to the Beatles, Stones, Aretha, Ray Charles and many others are not to be ignored.
And as I check my blogs today, I see that Ligeti has died. The best tribute is here, courtesy of Ethan Iverson. Again, I am no expert in Ligeti (and certainly not to the extent that Iverson and Alex Ross are), but my introduction to his music remains vivid in my memory. At the beginning of my dalliance with 20th-century classical music in high school (which, incidentally, lay dormant until I got to university), I asked my band director for some of the weirdest stuff he could give me that he'd still think I'd like. In the pile was the Sony recording of Ligeti's Horn Trio, Six Bagatelles for Wind Quintet, Ten Pieces for Wind Quintet, and Sonata for Solo Viola. At the time, I didn't understand what was going on musically (and to this day I haven't investigated the scores enough to make that claim), but it was immediately affecting. Now I additionally admire Ligeti's struggle to find new forms of expression, his references to folkloric material without parroting or cheapening it (in the line of Stravinsky and Bartok) and his attention to instrumental detail (the French horn instructions in the wind quintets are maddeningly specific), but the emotional connection still remains strong.
It's unfortunate that my further investigation of Ligeti's music (and to a certain extent, Billy Preston's as well) will be catalysed by his passing.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Retail therapy
Half the band went out to Spec's yesterday, and we each dropped significant portions of our pay. My rewards:
Frederic Rzewski - Rzewski Plays Rzewski: Works for Solo Piano (the big Nonesuch box; fantastic. Thanks to Darcy for hipping me to him.)
Stevie Wonder - Fulfillingness' First Finale
The Roots - The Roots Come Alive
Miles Davis - Water Babies
Duke Ellington - ...and His Mother Called Him Bill
I listened to excerpts of the new Paul Simon/Brian Eno collaboration, and the jury's still out. Obviously, one cannot judge the work of either of those masters by 30-second sound bites, but by the same token nothing convincing enough to make me keep it in the pile jumped out at me.
Frederic Rzewski - Rzewski Plays Rzewski: Works for Solo Piano (the big Nonesuch box; fantastic. Thanks to Darcy for hipping me to him.)
Stevie Wonder - Fulfillingness' First Finale
The Roots - The Roots Come Alive
Miles Davis - Water Babies
Duke Ellington - ...and His Mother Called Him Bill
I listened to excerpts of the new Paul Simon/Brian Eno collaboration, and the jury's still out. Obviously, one cannot judge the work of either of those masters by 30-second sound bites, but by the same token nothing convincing enough to make me keep it in the pile jumped out at me.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Nem um dia
I’ve found this little CD store in
Kerry Politzer recommended Djavan to me when we were both at Banff last summer. When I got back to Montreal, I went on a search that led me to his first two records, Djavan and Alumbramento. (The general consensus on his music is that those two records are his apotheosis, and it’s all downhill from there.) The DVD focuses on his more recent work, though there are songs from that period as well. While I wouldn’t necessarily say Djavan’s music has gone on a downwards trajectory, the music has become simpler as he’s aged, and as one critic said, has fused Brazilian music with pop and hip-hop more than his earlier records which reflected the jazz and funk influence. One could draw a parallel with Sting’s development (compare Dream of the Blue Turtles with Sacred Love). The DVD was filmed in 2002 in a sold out stadium in Rio, and the audience is singing along with his melodies, which are catchy but not necessarily simple or repetitive. His forms are often unconventional by American pop standards, but the audience knows them like the back of their hands. Djavan lets the band stretch out, much like the space Sting gives to Branford Marsalis or Chris Botti, and they are warmly received. This further strengthens my intrigue into the Latin/Brazilian attitude and response towards music, especially as compared to the North American relationships with the art.
Water water everywhere
Unlike Pat, I haven’t found it easy to blog from the ship. Oddly enough, I’m on his original Cruise Ship X, with some of the same band members. It is indeed a small musical community. I’ve been on the ship for nearly a month, the time frame after which I’ve been told one can begin to form opinions on the cruise ship experience.
My first cruise was filled with orientation and training – not anything musical, mind you, but more of the environmental/safety sort. It’s important information, to be sure – essential for one’s survival aboard the vessel – but the way it is carried out is often redundant. Often, neither the trainers nor many of the students speak English as a first language, so there is the element of repetition to make sure things are clear, as well as the attempt to decipher various different accents and capabilities in the English language. This is the reason training sessions are scheduled for, and always take, three to four hours.
I lost track of time quite quickly, as I was warned. I now tell days by which port we’re in, not by dates. I did remember Mother’s Day.
I have been fortunate enough to visit each port at least once, and I am slowly forming a tan (and not through crustacean-esque burns as some of my Canadian colleagues are acquiring).
When we hit Calica last time, a few of us went out to the Mayan ruins of Tulum. We didn’t do a tour, we just walked around admiring the view and the iguanas that seamlessly blended into the stone towers surrounding us. There is a natural beach below the ruins, which we spent most of our time on. A tour guide came by and yelled out that the ruins closed in 15 minutes. We didn’t see everything, but most of it. We also stumbled across a little roadside restaurant at happy hour – 2 for 1 Cuba Libres, and a large plate of fajitas for 40-odd pesos.
I am enjoying the fresh air and being on the water. Luckily we haven’t hit seriously rough seas yet, though a couple of days ago the boat was rocking hard enough for cancellation of shows to be a possibility. The weather centres are predicting hurricane season to start early this year (June 1st at the absolute latest) so the adventure and intrigue may increase in short order.That said, the MD and I work quite well together and most of the band is really quite solid. There are some notable exceptions, and to that end all I will say is that I will never again take for granted that other musicians will have similar frames of reference to mine. I’m trying to stay positive in the light of some of these more disheartening musical events, though it is draining. I suppose it would be more taxing to get caught in the negativity. I’ve also got pretty much carte blanche to arrange whatever tunes I want for the band, and the dancers, techs and band alike are pumped for the fact that this ship has a full eight-piece band for the first time in about a year (if not more). They were a quintet before I signed on, and within two cruises after my joining we were complete.
I’m trying to be diligent about composition, and I do have the goal of writing a chamber piece for some sort of double reed orchestration (most likely oboe, bassoon and piano), as well as setting groundwork for more big band music, but it’s been slow going. I have a couple of melodic fragments that might have potential. I just need to get down to business. My roommate is the DJ at the disco, a vocalist and former music industry insider from Chicago who came up in the 50s and 60s, and worked with some big soul stars in the 1980s. He’s got a lot of stories and has been really inspiring, working away on GarageBand in his free time. I’ve been swapping music with both him and my bandmates, and it’s been quite the blast.
Friday, April 21, 2006
Forthcoming inspirations
To commence my packing for the cruise ship, I tackled the most arduous part of it: the media I'll be sequestered with for nearly three months. During my undergrad I grew out of the habit of pleasure reading, which I hope to rectify on board.
Tom Wolfe - Bonfire of the Vanities (currently being read); Fyodor Dostoevsky - The Idiot; Notes From the Underground & The Double; George Orwell - 1984 (no, I haven't read this yet, I know, shame on me); Rainer Maria Rilke - Letters To A Young Poet; Jack Kerouac - The Dharma Bums.
I won't bore you with the full list of CDs I'm taking, but a quick summary include my "desert island" standbys of Herbie Hancock - Speak Like A Child and Thrust, Chick Corea's Now He Sings Now He Sobs, and Jaco's self-titled debut, as well as the requisite dose of Billy Joel, Keith Jarrett, Bruce Hornsby, and hip-hop (K-os' Joyful Rebellion). I'm also taking some CDs I have recently acquired and need to immerse myself in (John Hollenbeck's A Blessing, Bob Brookmeyer's Waltzing With Zoe, a disc of Ligeti chamber music), and discs I've neglected for far too long (A Love Supreme, Mingus Ah Um, Oliver Nelson's Blues and the Abstract Truth, Beethoven's "Eroica" as conducted by Bernstein, and Shostakovich's Piano Concerti #1 and #2).
And in case there are readers unfamiliar with Darcy James Argue, check out his latest set from the Bowery Poetry Club. Fantastic.
Tom Wolfe - Bonfire of the Vanities (currently being read); Fyodor Dostoevsky - The Idiot; Notes From the Underground & The Double; George Orwell - 1984 (no, I haven't read this yet, I know, shame on me); Rainer Maria Rilke - Letters To A Young Poet; Jack Kerouac - The Dharma Bums.
I won't bore you with the full list of CDs I'm taking, but a quick summary include my "desert island" standbys of Herbie Hancock - Speak Like A Child and Thrust, Chick Corea's Now He Sings Now He Sobs, and Jaco's self-titled debut, as well as the requisite dose of Billy Joel, Keith Jarrett, Bruce Hornsby, and hip-hop (K-os' Joyful Rebellion). I'm also taking some CDs I have recently acquired and need to immerse myself in (John Hollenbeck's A Blessing, Bob Brookmeyer's Waltzing With Zoe, a disc of Ligeti chamber music), and discs I've neglected for far too long (A Love Supreme, Mingus Ah Um, Oliver Nelson's Blues and the Abstract Truth, Beethoven's "Eroica" as conducted by Bernstein, and Shostakovich's Piano Concerti #1 and #2).
And in case there are readers unfamiliar with Darcy James Argue, check out his latest set from the Bowery Poetry Club. Fantastic.
Monday, April 17, 2006
Music and language (part 2)
My first post on the connectons between music and language was more metaphorical and abstract in nature, treating genres or styles as languages or dialects. Fittingly enough, I'm listening to BBC3's web archive of Dave Douglas' Blue Latitudes (and Douglas' own musings on musical collisions were one of the catalysts for the first post), and I think he successfully relates the domains of "classical" and "jazz" or "composed/notated" and "improvised" - either by linking and bridging or full-on collision.
This post is more concrete and literal, on a subject that's raised its head on occasion during my time in Montreal. It was brought into relief by this entry by Québécoise percussionists/vocalists DobaCaracol, chronicling their experience at Canadian Music Week (CMW). For those who don't speak French, the quick translation/redux is that there's a segregation between the francophone and anglophone music scenes in Canada. While Doba have not faced such ill acceptance in other anglophone countries (they've apparently got quite the tour of Australia lined up), their appearances in Ontario, Greater Toronto Area specifically, have received a lukewarm welcome, to be kind. Their performance at Live 8 in Barrie, Ontario, was greeted by a bunch of blank stares.
Doba characterises this division as being between Quebec and Canada, which I don't abide by for a few reasons. Aside from the fact that Québécois despise Céline and Bryan Adams in equal proportion to the rest of Canada (if not with more vehemence), the distinction isn't drawn by location - it seems to be drawn by language. Chanteuses like Ariane Moffatt get quite the turnout from Franco-Ontarians (and, I would presume, Acadians); and even in Montreal there's a stark delineation between the anglo and francophone pop scenes. If I don't diligently read the French entertainment weeklies, I'll miss out on knowing about francophone shows. While Voir will write about anglophone and/or international bands, Hour and Mirror rarely write about anything French unless it's the Francofolies. In fact, Hour's interview with Plaster was admittedly the first time English press had contacted them. Plaster is an instrumental band, whose members happen to be francophone. It even extends to venues - places like Le Va-et-Vient and Cabaret La Tulipe are generally regarded as francophone venues. For a while, Café L'Utopik and Divan Orange were thus categorized as well, though McGillians have started to infiltrate both of them.
This segregation seems to exist more in the pop world, and less so in the jazz/improvised (musique actuelle)/classical communities here. The OSM has both francophone and anglophone members; not quite sure about the Orchestre Métropolitaine. There's an increasing rate of collaboration between French and English jazz musicians, though I'm told that around 15 years ago they were pretty separate as well. As an anglophone that does attempt to follow the francophone scene, I can attest to the multitude of music that anglos are missing out on. Okay, so no one's missing anything by not watching Star Académie, but it's really a shame that they're unfamiliar on Doba, Ariane, Karkwa, and many other talented local musicians that have nothing to do with Arcade Fire. Moondata's LABProjects pride themselves on joining both languages and multiple genres in their improvised monthly mashups, and they garner a fairly linguistically split audience. EDIT: props to Moondata for doing a Moondata vs. Plaster mashup! This needs to happen more often!
And honestly, it seems like quite a one-sided thing. I had no trouble finding francophones at a K-os concert, but I might have been the only anglophone who caught Séba & Ghislain Poirier at Francofolies the other year. Why should we be content with our linguistic lot?
Question to fellow bi- or multi-lingual music lovers (e.g., paging Mwanji): does this happen elsewhere?
This post is more concrete and literal, on a subject that's raised its head on occasion during my time in Montreal. It was brought into relief by this entry by Québécoise percussionists/vocalists DobaCaracol, chronicling their experience at Canadian Music Week (CMW). For those who don't speak French, the quick translation/redux is that there's a segregation between the francophone and anglophone music scenes in Canada. While Doba have not faced such ill acceptance in other anglophone countries (they've apparently got quite the tour of Australia lined up), their appearances in Ontario, Greater Toronto Area specifically, have received a lukewarm welcome, to be kind. Their performance at Live 8 in Barrie, Ontario, was greeted by a bunch of blank stares.
Doba characterises this division as being between Quebec and Canada, which I don't abide by for a few reasons. Aside from the fact that Québécois despise Céline and Bryan Adams in equal proportion to the rest of Canada (if not with more vehemence), the distinction isn't drawn by location - it seems to be drawn by language. Chanteuses like Ariane Moffatt get quite the turnout from Franco-Ontarians (and, I would presume, Acadians); and even in Montreal there's a stark delineation between the anglo and francophone pop scenes. If I don't diligently read the French entertainment weeklies, I'll miss out on knowing about francophone shows. While Voir will write about anglophone and/or international bands, Hour and Mirror rarely write about anything French unless it's the Francofolies. In fact, Hour's interview with Plaster was admittedly the first time English press had contacted them. Plaster is an instrumental band, whose members happen to be francophone. It even extends to venues - places like Le Va-et-Vient and Cabaret La Tulipe are generally regarded as francophone venues. For a while, Café L'Utopik and Divan Orange were thus categorized as well, though McGillians have started to infiltrate both of them.
This segregation seems to exist more in the pop world, and less so in the jazz/improvised (musique actuelle)/classical communities here. The OSM has both francophone and anglophone members; not quite sure about the Orchestre Métropolitaine. There's an increasing rate of collaboration between French and English jazz musicians, though I'm told that around 15 years ago they were pretty separate as well. As an anglophone that does attempt to follow the francophone scene, I can attest to the multitude of music that anglos are missing out on. Okay, so no one's missing anything by not watching Star Académie, but it's really a shame that they're unfamiliar on Doba, Ariane, Karkwa, and many other talented local musicians that have nothing to do with Arcade Fire. Moondata's LABProjects pride themselves on joining both languages and multiple genres in their improvised monthly mashups, and they garner a fairly linguistically split audience. EDIT: props to Moondata for doing a Moondata vs. Plaster mashup! This needs to happen more often!
And honestly, it seems like quite a one-sided thing. I had no trouble finding francophones at a K-os concert, but I might have been the only anglophone who caught Séba & Ghislain Poirier at Francofolies the other year. Why should we be content with our linguistic lot?
Question to fellow bi- or multi-lingual music lovers (e.g., paging Mwanji): does this happen elsewhere?
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Progress report
I have finished class time as an undergrad. All that remains is my final performance exam on April 19. Then I'm off on a cruise ship until mid-July. I hope to use the spare ship time (which is abundant, I'm told) for composing. It'll be an exercise to improve my discipline and self-motivation, which will be handy for my out-of-school life. I'm rather looking forward
My colleagues in the Giusto Brass Quintet asked me to arrange some material for them, and they're taking my arrangement of "Paranoid Android" on their Ontario tour. I wish them the best, and hopefully our artistic relationship will continue into the future. I'm increasingly interested in the instrumental possibilities of chamber music that complement the potential of more jazz-based ensembles.
A couple of weeks ago I participated in a "Manhattan on the Rideau" master class at the National Arts Centre in Ottawa. It was one of these teleconference things set up between the NAC and the Manhattan School of Music - the McGill Jazz Orchestra was playing student compositions/arrangements while composer/arranger Michael Abene critiqued them from an MSM classroom. He had interesting things to say: some remarks were rather obvious, and others were pretty subjective and could be taken with a grain of salt. It was a fresh, welcome perspective on the craft though, and he seemed like someone I could work well with, if the opportunity should arise.
Recent inspirations:
Guillermo Klein y los Guachos - Live in Barcelona
Gyorgy Ligeti - Trio for Horn, Violin & Piano; Ten Pieces for Wind Quintet; Six Bagatelles for Wind Quintet; Sonata for Solo Viola (Sony Classical)
The collected poems of Kenneth Rexroth
Michael Herring's Vertigo featuring David Binney - Coniferous Revenge
My colleagues in the Giusto Brass Quintet asked me to arrange some material for them, and they're taking my arrangement of "Paranoid Android" on their Ontario tour. I wish them the best, and hopefully our artistic relationship will continue into the future. I'm increasingly interested in the instrumental possibilities of chamber music that complement the potential of more jazz-based ensembles.
A couple of weeks ago I participated in a "Manhattan on the Rideau" master class at the National Arts Centre in Ottawa. It was one of these teleconference things set up between the NAC and the Manhattan School of Music - the McGill Jazz Orchestra was playing student compositions/arrangements while composer/arranger Michael Abene critiqued them from an MSM classroom. He had interesting things to say: some remarks were rather obvious, and others were pretty subjective and could be taken with a grain of salt. It was a fresh, welcome perspective on the craft though, and he seemed like someone I could work well with, if the opportunity should arise.
Recent inspirations:
Guillermo Klein y los Guachos - Live in Barcelona
Gyorgy Ligeti - Trio for Horn, Violin & Piano; Ten Pieces for Wind Quintet; Six Bagatelles for Wind Quintet; Sonata for Solo Viola (Sony Classical)
The collected poems of Kenneth Rexroth
Michael Herring's Vertigo featuring David Binney - Coniferous Revenge
Saturday, April 01, 2006
Unfortunate losses
Via DJA: Jackie McLean and Don Alias both passed away this week.
I'm not nearly as familiar with Jackie's music as I should be, which I'm rather ashamed to admit. It's really a pity that I'll be checking his work out under these sort of circumstances. I've heard nothing but good things in regards to his involvement with education at the Hartt School.
I'm no expert on Don Alias' work either, but I remember the first time I heard Jaco's opening salvo of "Donna Lee" on the self-titled record. While Jaco's bass playing is quite incredible, the simpatico he had with Don, and Don's responsiveness, was really quite impressive. His multifaceted expertise on both kit and percussion graced many records, and was always tasteful. The first record I heard him on, if memory serves me correctly, was Herbie Hancock's The New Standard. He never got in Jack DeJohnette's way.
The one thing that strikes me at the news of any musician's death is how cultural history seems to fade away, and that I'm saddened by the possibility of youth growing up in a world devoid of such work. Will kids born today know what McLean, Alias, Steve Lacy, Derek Bailey or Elvin Jones did? Will they know about Ray Charles or Johnny Cash past what was portrayed in the movies?
I'm not nearly as familiar with Jackie's music as I should be, which I'm rather ashamed to admit. It's really a pity that I'll be checking his work out under these sort of circumstances. I've heard nothing but good things in regards to his involvement with education at the Hartt School.
I'm no expert on Don Alias' work either, but I remember the first time I heard Jaco's opening salvo of "Donna Lee" on the self-titled record. While Jaco's bass playing is quite incredible, the simpatico he had with Don, and Don's responsiveness, was really quite impressive. His multifaceted expertise on both kit and percussion graced many records, and was always tasteful. The first record I heard him on, if memory serves me correctly, was Herbie Hancock's The New Standard. He never got in Jack DeJohnette's way.
The one thing that strikes me at the news of any musician's death is how cultural history seems to fade away, and that I'm saddened by the possibility of youth growing up in a world devoid of such work. Will kids born today know what McLean, Alias, Steve Lacy, Derek Bailey or Elvin Jones did? Will they know about Ray Charles or Johnny Cash past what was portrayed in the movies?
Sunday, March 19, 2006
The false dichotomy of protection
Via aurgasm.us: South by Southwest attendees and panelists give middlemen the middle digit.
There are these industries of middlemen - RIAA, MPAA - that claim to "protect artists" but what they're really protecting is themselves. Artists (and I include myself in that word) need to rise up and tell these people to go get stuffed. We can decide when a mashup is perfectly fine with us. We can decide to embrace file traders to build awareness of our work. We don't need you anymore. You're just holding us back.After all, when we allow these industry groups to frame the debate about the internet and file trading as artists versus pirates, it's a false dichotomy. No one in that angry audience in Austin wants to dupe a movie to sell it on the street. That's piracy. We just want to put movies on our hard drives and iPods, share our mix CDs with each other (just like we used to do with tapes), and mash that funny video with that cool song to produce something new, something we'll give away for free.
The whole popularity of the MySpace/CDBaby market structure, as well as music recommendation/streaming radio services such as Last.fm, Pandora or Yahoo!Launch Music, is testimony to the divergence from the model the RIAA is so desperately trying to protect. And as labels merge and catalogue gets pulled, artists and listeners are forced to utilize alternative means to locate the music they want.
Saturday, March 18, 2006
Goulasch!
Last night, I attended cellist Matt Haimovitz's first concert in a series of three, entitled Goulasch! The series' overarching theme is the exploration in various forms of the music of (and related to, in differing ways) Béla Bartók. Last night, Bartók was manifest as composer (the Romanian Dances and Rhapsodie No. 1, both arranged for four cellos - Haimovitz and three of his students, aka Uccello - by Luna Pearl Woolf), aspiring folklorist/ethnomusicologist (the improvisations and songs of Turkish folk Ensemble Constantinople), and guiding figure for Ligeti (Sonata for Solo Cello). Also performed were Tod Machover's Dadaji in Paradise, and Led Zeppelin's Kashmir. The performance was one continuous set, bridged by the soundscapes of DJ Olive.
It was an impressive effort. Haimovitz is a true virtuoso - he has terrific command of the instrument, fantastic intonation, control of extended technique, and most importantly, phenomenal musicianship. He was obviously engaged in his playing, head bobbing, hair flying, egging on Olive and his students. He is a surprisingly strong improviser, as evidenced by the opening variations on the Turkish folksongs Bartók recorded. Interacting with both Olive and Constantinople, Haimovitz demonstrated his capacity for matching and/or complementing sounds on a whim. I was reminded of violinist Mark Feldman - although Feldman has substantially more background and experience in improvising (especially that of jazz improvising). I wished to hear more interaction between Olive and the rest of the musicians - his soundscapes were magnificently "illbient," and his samples well-chosen, but I know his improvising work with Billy Martin and Dave Douglas and wanted to hear him contribute a little bit more. As well, I know that at least one of Haimovitz's students in Uccello, Judith Manger, is a solid improviser in her own right and it would have been intriguing if Haimovitz had gotten his students involved in that aspect of the concert as well. The coda of "Kashmir" had this air of collective fun, with cellos being slapped percussively and DJ Olive even scratching vinyl laughter towards the end.
There seems to be a new wave of young McGill professors (Haimovitz, Shawn Mativetsky) injecting a dose of open-mindedness, inventiveness, and engagement into the conservatory proceedings. Too often in music schools, concerts get bogged down in their own artistic pretensions and somewhat repetitive or predictable programming. The audience, too, needs to be thrown a few curveballs. The concert was held on the unfinished seventh floor of the new music building (quite possibly the only concert that will ever be held there, as it's slated to house offices when McGill finds the money for completion), and while waiting in line for the elevator I heard the requisite bad jokes about "Hey, we must be going to a rave; there's a DJ!" The producer from CBC noted that this might be the first time a turntablist has been involved in one of these concerts. So much the better. I'm graduating this year, so I won't get to experience much of the future progress, but I do know that the performance department is finally starting to give improvisation its due credit (promoting the Contemporary Improvisation Ensemble, supporting improvising master classes). I hope that in the near future they will embrace the new aesthetics of chamber music and bring up Alarm Will Sound or Vijay Iyer's collaborations with Mike Ladd.
It was an impressive effort. Haimovitz is a true virtuoso - he has terrific command of the instrument, fantastic intonation, control of extended technique, and most importantly, phenomenal musicianship. He was obviously engaged in his playing, head bobbing, hair flying, egging on Olive and his students. He is a surprisingly strong improviser, as evidenced by the opening variations on the Turkish folksongs Bartók recorded. Interacting with both Olive and Constantinople, Haimovitz demonstrated his capacity for matching and/or complementing sounds on a whim. I was reminded of violinist Mark Feldman - although Feldman has substantially more background and experience in improvising (especially that of jazz improvising). I wished to hear more interaction between Olive and the rest of the musicians - his soundscapes were magnificently "illbient," and his samples well-chosen, but I know his improvising work with Billy Martin and Dave Douglas and wanted to hear him contribute a little bit more. As well, I know that at least one of Haimovitz's students in Uccello, Judith Manger, is a solid improviser in her own right and it would have been intriguing if Haimovitz had gotten his students involved in that aspect of the concert as well. The coda of "Kashmir" had this air of collective fun, with cellos being slapped percussively and DJ Olive even scratching vinyl laughter towards the end.
There seems to be a new wave of young McGill professors (Haimovitz, Shawn Mativetsky) injecting a dose of open-mindedness, inventiveness, and engagement into the conservatory proceedings. Too often in music schools, concerts get bogged down in their own artistic pretensions and somewhat repetitive or predictable programming. The audience, too, needs to be thrown a few curveballs. The concert was held on the unfinished seventh floor of the new music building (quite possibly the only concert that will ever be held there, as it's slated to house offices when McGill finds the money for completion), and while waiting in line for the elevator I heard the requisite bad jokes about "Hey, we must be going to a rave; there's a DJ!" The producer from CBC noted that this might be the first time a turntablist has been involved in one of these concerts. So much the better. I'm graduating this year, so I won't get to experience much of the future progress, but I do know that the performance department is finally starting to give improvisation its due credit (promoting the Contemporary Improvisation Ensemble, supporting improvising master classes). I hope that in the near future they will embrace the new aesthetics of chamber music and bring up Alarm Will Sound or Vijay Iyer's collaborations with Mike Ladd.
Saturday, March 11, 2006
You would rather have a Lexus or justice?
Last weekend, I went to see Dave Chappelle's Block Party. I'm not a hip-hop aficionado, but I'm a fan of the Roots (who serve as the house band for the majority of the concert), Mos Def, Common, and Jill Scott (who's a fantastic singer, and a phenomenal presence live). Erykah Badu and Talib Kweli are not among my favourites, but I like them. The only group I didn't know on the roster was Dead Prez, and I have to say the only Kanye West I know is "Gold Digger." Add in a Fugees reunion and Michel Gondry (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind) directing, and it's a very promising film.
Gondry doesn't approach the Block Party like a hip-hop The Last Waltz; he constructs a story out of the preparations leading up to the concert, interspersed with the relevant parts of the concert. The performers become the protagonists of a story about community. The casualty of this structure are complete performances - if memory serves the only unfaded, complete performance is Dead Prez's "It's Bigger Than Hip-Hop." However, this interview with Gondry reveals that much of the 8-hour concert is to be included in the DVD. I hope the record companies can get their act together and clear the Fugees' participation (due to licensing red tape, they're not on the soundtrack).
Also, my jazzhead side was proud of the scene where Chappelle rambles through "Round Midnight" on a Salvation Army Rhodes, and encourages all up-and-coming comics and musicians to study to the work of Thelonious Monk. "Off time, and perfectly on time."
Gondry doesn't approach the Block Party like a hip-hop The Last Waltz; he constructs a story out of the preparations leading up to the concert, interspersed with the relevant parts of the concert. The performers become the protagonists of a story about community. The casualty of this structure are complete performances - if memory serves the only unfaded, complete performance is Dead Prez's "It's Bigger Than Hip-Hop." However, this interview with Gondry reveals that much of the 8-hour concert is to be included in the DVD. I hope the record companies can get their act together and clear the Fugees' participation (due to licensing red tape, they're not on the soundtrack).
Also, my jazzhead side was proud of the scene where Chappelle rambles through "Round Midnight" on a Salvation Army Rhodes, and encourages all up-and-coming comics and musicians to study to the work of Thelonious Monk. "Off time, and perfectly on time."
Sunday, March 05, 2006
Strings program and post-mortem
The Indigone Trio + Strings recital was a resounding success. Thanks to Irwin Block for promoting the show in the Gazette (we were a Best Bet of the week, along with Eddie Palmieri and Chet Doxas). Of the three recitals I've done during my time at McGill, I think this one was the best, and not necessarily just in terms of execution, but in channeling and focussing the talents of the core trio (myself, Alex and Liam) into a bigger project. What follows is the program that was handed out at the recital, for those who couldn't be there. Andrew Mullin bravely recorded the recital - I should have a mix back shortly, and the highlights will go up on MySpace.
We endeavor to play music without fear - energetic, inventive, alive and awake. Beautiful and crazy. – Geoffrey Keezer
Side A
Visions (Stevie Wonder, arr. Ryshpan) – An underrated song with a sentiment that rings far too true, thirty-odd years after Stevie penned it. May we be fortunate enough to realize such a vision in our own lifetimes? It’s looking like we’ll still have to grab our wings and fly away. DRR
Erghen Diado (Petar Lyondev, arr. Ryshpan) – All instrumentalists attempt to recreate the power and immediacy of the human voice. Transcribed from the first volume of Le mystere des voix bulgares (a Bulgarian women’s radio choir), this piece’s beauty lies in its deceptive simplicity. It sounds far more intricate than it actually is. DRR
Love Is the Reason (
Smacked (David Ryshpan) – The only complete original piece of music I wrote out at
Side B
Piece for Open Strings (
Agua (Djavan, arr. Ryshpan) – Another
Shahgely (trad. Egyptian, arr. Ryshpan) – A truly multicultural experience; an Egyptian melody learned in the Rocky Mountains from a Torontonian ex-pat living in
Throughout (Bill Frisell, arr. Ryshpan) – In tribute to a fallen comrade. This piece has had a recurring presence over the past year, and represents the cycles of life and of acceptance. In French, undergraduate and graduate studies are referred to as cycles; and as one cycle ends, another one commences. I can’t think of a more fitting conclusion to the concert. I dedicate this specifically to Chris Driscoll, but additionally to all those who, in their absence, continue to influence and inspire us. DRR
This will be our reply to violence: to make music more intensely, more beautifully, more devotedly than ever before. – Leonard Bernstein
Friday, February 24, 2006
PSA
The hour is soon approaching...
Indigone Trio + Strings
David Ryshpan - piano
Alex Mallett - bass
Liam O'Neill - drums
Jeffrey Dyrda - violin
Neda Yamach - violin
Valentina Shohdy - viola
Natasha White - cello
Thursday, March 2, 2006
Clara Lichtenstein Recital Hall (555 Sherbrooke W., Room C-209)
8 pm
Free
The program includes original compositions by Alex and myself, as well as some fairly varied "cover" repertoire. It's my final recital as an undergrad (though not a graded final recital as is the norm in many programs), and it's bound to be a special event.
Progress update
So many things on the go right now.
I just spent most of this week - which has ostensibly been my "break" - playing on McGill jazz auditions. I've done it every year (with, perhaps, the exception of my freshman year), and while it's a blast to hear the new blood, it makes for very long days. By the end of it, I generally never want to hear "Body and Soul" ever again. The free refreshments in the welcome centre make up for it.
I'm infatuated with the idea of attempting an application for the BMI Jazz Composers Workshop. I'm still not definitively sure on how large ensemble writing or New York City fit into the rest of my life, but it seems like as good of a test balloon as any. So now, that entails rounding up a big band to record the demo disc, and finishing new big band works. Luckily the assignment for Advanced Arranging right now is a big band chart, and I have a sketch for another piece which seems to lend itself to a larger ensemble of some form or other. And it turns out that the grant application deadline is - as is always the case - far too close for comfort.
Next Thursday, March 2, is Indigone Trio + Strings in Clara Hall at McGill. I am very, very psyched for this. I remember Chris Smith telling us in Basic Arranging about the profundity of hearing strings play your music for the first time. The whole recital was borne out of indecisiveness and general half-baked, hare-brainedness (I suppose any musical decision worth making is a product of absurdity in some way), but I'm lucky to have found kindred spirits who are willing to go down this path with me.
March 3, Kweku & The Movement hit at Café Campus. We're on a bill with The Dust Jackets and God Made Me Funky. Not sure of the band order, but it promises to be quite the show.
March 11, I'm playing in a free improv master class run by violinist Malcolm Goldstein. I'll be playing with trumpeter Gordon Allen, trombonist Paul Tarussov, and bass clarinetist Guillaume Bourque. We all went to Banff together but this will be the first time all four of us have played in one ensemble. It's in Clara Hall, again, from 2-4 pm.
As for other people's gigs: Last night I saw Quinsin Nachoff with Mark Helias, Jim Black and a string quartet of Québécois, playing all of Quinsin's originals. Quinsin's sounding fantastic on tenor and soprano, with great control of both horns, and a fantastic altissimo on the tenor that reminded me at times of Michael Blake. It was great to see Jim Black live, finally - the drum solo he unleashed on the last tune was a marvel of colour and gadgetry. He was pulling out various percussion accessories that hadn't made appearances in the concert previously, seemingly materializing out of thin air. Helias had some phenomenal bass solos on the second set. The strings and trio were tight together, in terms of Jim and Mark catching all the punches and playing dynamically, but I found the writing to be busy for my tastes, and I wanted to hear a little bit more of uninterrupted trio playing. "Whorls," for sax and strings, as well as the aforementioned concluding piece, loaded with trio and solo improvisations, were the most effective use of musical resources of the night.
I just spent most of this week - which has ostensibly been my "break" - playing on McGill jazz auditions. I've done it every year (with, perhaps, the exception of my freshman year), and while it's a blast to hear the new blood, it makes for very long days. By the end of it, I generally never want to hear "Body and Soul" ever again. The free refreshments in the welcome centre make up for it.
I'm infatuated with the idea of attempting an application for the BMI Jazz Composers Workshop. I'm still not definitively sure on how large ensemble writing or New York City fit into the rest of my life, but it seems like as good of a test balloon as any. So now, that entails rounding up a big band to record the demo disc, and finishing new big band works. Luckily the assignment for Advanced Arranging right now is a big band chart, and I have a sketch for another piece which seems to lend itself to a larger ensemble of some form or other. And it turns out that the grant application deadline is - as is always the case - far too close for comfort.
Next Thursday, March 2, is Indigone Trio + Strings in Clara Hall at McGill. I am very, very psyched for this. I remember Chris Smith telling us in Basic Arranging about the profundity of hearing strings play your music for the first time. The whole recital was borne out of indecisiveness and general half-baked, hare-brainedness (I suppose any musical decision worth making is a product of absurdity in some way), but I'm lucky to have found kindred spirits who are willing to go down this path with me.
March 3, Kweku & The Movement hit at Café Campus. We're on a bill with The Dust Jackets and God Made Me Funky. Not sure of the band order, but it promises to be quite the show.
March 11, I'm playing in a free improv master class run by violinist Malcolm Goldstein. I'll be playing with trumpeter Gordon Allen, trombonist Paul Tarussov, and bass clarinetist Guillaume Bourque. We all went to Banff together but this will be the first time all four of us have played in one ensemble. It's in Clara Hall, again, from 2-4 pm.
As for other people's gigs: Last night I saw Quinsin Nachoff with Mark Helias, Jim Black and a string quartet of Québécois, playing all of Quinsin's originals. Quinsin's sounding fantastic on tenor and soprano, with great control of both horns, and a fantastic altissimo on the tenor that reminded me at times of Michael Blake. It was great to see Jim Black live, finally - the drum solo he unleashed on the last tune was a marvel of colour and gadgetry. He was pulling out various percussion accessories that hadn't made appearances in the concert previously, seemingly materializing out of thin air. Helias had some phenomenal bass solos on the second set. The strings and trio were tight together, in terms of Jim and Mark catching all the punches and playing dynamically, but I found the writing to be busy for my tastes, and I wanted to hear a little bit more of uninterrupted trio playing. "Whorls," for sax and strings, as well as the aforementioned concluding piece, loaded with trio and solo improvisations, were the most effective use of musical resources of the night.
Friday, February 17, 2006
Tempo di "bounce, les gros!"
It seems that amid all the "Montreal-is-the-new-Seattle" pants-wetting (thank you, Arcade Fire) that happened last year, domestic and foreign press systematically overlooked a lot of the developments in the Francophone music scene, which has produced some very impressive groups in my estimation. Additionally, there is a fairly thriving "new music" scene here in Quebec, with the SMCQ, the music programs of McGill, Concordia, UdeM and the Conservatoire de Montreal.
And, apparently, they've commingled. Le Consort Contemporain de Québec, led by 25 year old Nicolas Jobin, has gotten his feet wet in the Francophone festival scene - reinterpreting the music of Québecois vedettes through the lens of new music. First it was chansonnier Pierre Lapointe, and here is the CCQ's collaboration with sovereignist hip-hoppers Loco Locass. As a purely social statement/experiment, it's interesting. Musically it's not half-bad, either - an intriguing take on hip-hop, to be sure (percussion is of the pitched variety more often than not). I've always liked the flow of the MCs in Loco Locass.
The video lacks audience shots - I wonder how many of the people at that concert were CCQ followers or new music devotees in general, how many were Loco Locass fans, and how much investigation of the other music occurred after the fact. With all the recent blogging on collisions and the reclamation of new music by bands like Alarm Will Sound and Eighth Blackbird, this seems like as worthy an entry as any.
And, apparently, they've commingled. Le Consort Contemporain de Québec, led by 25 year old Nicolas Jobin, has gotten his feet wet in the Francophone festival scene - reinterpreting the music of Québecois vedettes through the lens of new music. First it was chansonnier Pierre Lapointe, and here is the CCQ's collaboration with sovereignist hip-hoppers Loco Locass. As a purely social statement/experiment, it's interesting. Musically it's not half-bad, either - an intriguing take on hip-hop, to be sure (percussion is of the pitched variety more often than not). I've always liked the flow of the MCs in Loco Locass.
The video lacks audience shots - I wonder how many of the people at that concert were CCQ followers or new music devotees in general, how many were Loco Locass fans, and how much investigation of the other music occurred after the fact. With all the recent blogging on collisions and the reclamation of new music by bands like Alarm Will Sound and Eighth Blackbird, this seems like as worthy an entry as any.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Movement post-mortem/Strings preview
Back on the 10th, Kweku & The Movement opened for Throwback at a just-opened venue called Le National Music Hall. It's a converted theatre - it used to be used for television filmings, but now the management of Cabaret Music Hall/La Tulipe have taken it over. In fact, Cabaret Music Hall doesn't exist anymore - it's all moved to Le National. Reminiscent of Toronto's The Opera House, it has a big stage and balcony. It differs with a very sloped floor.
Gig-wise, we played well (save a couple of miscommunication flubs) and had fun. I'll give the sound guys and techs the benefit of the doubt because they're all new. But it was strange - I had what may have been the best monitor mix I've yet to encounter in a rock club, yet the keyboards weren't coming through out front. The bassist could barely hear the drummer, even though they were standing beside each other. As a friend commented later, inebriated patrons shouldn't be doing a paid employee's job better than they are - i.e. our friends shouldn't be correcting the sound men on the mix. I'm just convinced that sound guys don't know how to deal with keyboards anymore.
Up next for The Movement: March 3 at Cafe Campus. Details to come.
***
Had the first rehearsal for the Indigone Trio + Strings recital last night. We're doing 6 of my arrangements and 2 by Alex. All I have to say is wow. I don't want to let cats out of the bag prematurely but this is proving to be the best recital I have put together yet. We started the rehearsal with an arrangement that I sort of rushed and wasn't completely sold on, and by the end of it I had shivers. Alex and I are complementary composers; our styles differ (sometimes fairly drastically) but they really work together. His two originals are really stunning.
I am incredibly privileged to have the opportunity to work with such wonderful, open and creative musicians. The concert is March 2, 2006, in Clara Lichtenstein Recital Hall. 8 pm. Free.
Gig-wise, we played well (save a couple of miscommunication flubs) and had fun. I'll give the sound guys and techs the benefit of the doubt because they're all new. But it was strange - I had what may have been the best monitor mix I've yet to encounter in a rock club, yet the keyboards weren't coming through out front. The bassist could barely hear the drummer, even though they were standing beside each other. As a friend commented later, inebriated patrons shouldn't be doing a paid employee's job better than they are - i.e. our friends shouldn't be correcting the sound men on the mix. I'm just convinced that sound guys don't know how to deal with keyboards anymore.
Up next for The Movement: March 3 at Cafe Campus. Details to come.
***
Had the first rehearsal for the Indigone Trio + Strings recital last night. We're doing 6 of my arrangements and 2 by Alex. All I have to say is wow. I don't want to let cats out of the bag prematurely but this is proving to be the best recital I have put together yet. We started the rehearsal with an arrangement that I sort of rushed and wasn't completely sold on, and by the end of it I had shivers. Alex and I are complementary composers; our styles differ (sometimes fairly drastically) but they really work together. His two originals are really stunning.
I am incredibly privileged to have the opportunity to work with such wonderful, open and creative musicians. The concert is March 2, 2006, in Clara Lichtenstein Recital Hall. 8 pm. Free.
Thursday, February 09, 2006
PSA
Kweku & The Movement (in which I play keyboards) are opening for Throwback (Montreal funky-folk-rock, see today's Montreal Gazette for profile) TOMORROW NIGHT!
Friday, February 10, 2006 at a new club called Le National Music Hall (1220 Ste. Catherine E., metro Beaudry). Tickets are available in advance for $10 through me, or $12 at the door. We hit at 9 pm.
The Movement is: Kweku Kwofie - vox/keys; Akua Carson & Katie Hampton - vox; Mikael Tobias - guitar; yours truly - keys; Anna Ruddick - electric bass; Mark Nelson - drums.
Friday, February 10, 2006 at a new club called Le National Music Hall (1220 Ste. Catherine E., metro Beaudry). Tickets are available in advance for $10 through me, or $12 at the door. We hit at 9 pm.
The Movement is: Kweku Kwofie - vox/keys; Akua Carson & Katie Hampton - vox; Mikael Tobias - guitar; yours truly - keys; Anna Ruddick - electric bass; Mark Nelson - drums.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Opportunities and treasures
I got involved with CKUT and Jazz Euphorium at the beginning of 2004, slowly immersing myself in the world of collective college/community radio. It's proven to be a treasure trove of opportunity, as I've had the occasion to interview and meet many fabulous musicians (whom, as a musician myself, I view more as a colleague than as an interview subject), work with fantastically knowledgeable co-hosts, and explore music I'd otherwise never have access to or never think to listen to. The CKUT library is an incredible resource, receiving new releases all the time, as well as having a huge archive of lesser-known recordings.
Case in point: in preparing the AACM feature last night (check the JE blog for the playlist and more information), I went rummaging through the Anthony Braxton collection, which is fairly extensive. I came across a disc entitled Creative Orchestra Music 1976 (Arista). I put it on for preview, and the first track impressed me for its intricate, irreverent melody and rhythmic drive. As we aired the piece, I started leafing through the liner notes, and the motley crew of personnel floored me: a trumpet section made up of Cecil Bridgewater, Kenny Wheeler, Jon Faddis, and Leo Smith; George Lewis on trombone; Dave Holland on bass; Muhal Richard Abrams on piano. Elsewhere on the album, Roscoe Mitchell joins the reed section, Frederick (sic) Rzewski appears on piano (often alongside Muhal) and percussion, and Barry Altschul is behind the drum set. I am definitely going to have to track down this album.
Other discoveries included the Air record 80° Below '82 (Antilles), which John Corbett once trumpeted in his "Vinyl Freak" Down Beat column, and Kahil El'Zabar's Ritual Trio which my co-host Natalie brought along.
Case in point: in preparing the AACM feature last night (check the JE blog for the playlist and more information), I went rummaging through the Anthony Braxton collection, which is fairly extensive. I came across a disc entitled Creative Orchestra Music 1976 (Arista). I put it on for preview, and the first track impressed me for its intricate, irreverent melody and rhythmic drive. As we aired the piece, I started leafing through the liner notes, and the motley crew of personnel floored me: a trumpet section made up of Cecil Bridgewater, Kenny Wheeler, Jon Faddis, and Leo Smith; George Lewis on trombone; Dave Holland on bass; Muhal Richard Abrams on piano. Elsewhere on the album, Roscoe Mitchell joins the reed section, Frederick (sic) Rzewski appears on piano (often alongside Muhal) and percussion, and Barry Altschul is behind the drum set. I am definitely going to have to track down this album.
Other discoveries included the Air record 80° Below '82 (Antilles), which John Corbett once trumpeted in his "Vinyl Freak" Down Beat column, and Kahil El'Zabar's Ritual Trio which my co-host Natalie brought along.
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