#now i am going to a concert to hear some Handel and it is a first thing in a few weeks i am really excited about

[doctor-maturin]

#no matter how low i feel or how bad day i had this boccherini piece always brings me peace #this movie and the books introduced me to the beauty of baroque music #if is there ever was any positive influence that any piece of fiction had on my life that it is this #now i am going to a concert to hear some Handel and it is a first thing in a few weeks i am really excited about #master and commander #aubreyad #stephen maturin #jack aubrey #aubreyad memes

[detectivesplotslies]

An Anthropologist and a Pianist walk into a School

Oumota Week 2019 - Day 2: Talent Swap / Monster AU 

Description: The Ultimate Anthropologist, Kaito Momota, wants to make quick work of getting to know everything about his classmates, but a certain Pianist seems to be making that troublesome.  Word Count: 1719

Read on AO3 here

“So, you’re a pianist? That’s quite a profession to get into, lots of glory and greatness in being a musician! Who would you say inspired you?”

Kaito barely wastes a moment after introducing himself and jumps straight into questions. He’s already had a long discussion with Kaede about her inventions and Rantaro about his organization, and Kokichi happens to be hovering when he finishes.

“You cut right to it, huh. Well of course the greats, Beethoven, Wagner, a bit of Handel gives you a good handle on it.”

“So you’re into classical stylings? Are they hard to learn? What about your teacher?” Kaito talks a mile a minute, quickly committing the names to memory. Sure music isn’t his expertise, but he knows the big names. Symphonies that inspired others, and ones inspired by others.

“Oh my teacher’s a real gem, but he’s so strict, there was one time I got one note wrong in Beethoven’s 10th Symphony, and he made me play the entire thing backwards from that note and THEN start over. My poor fingers!”

“Oh cool, you must be really skilled then! Sure must have been a pain, that’s crazy punishment for a mistake! Did it even sound good?” Kaito looks up, his face genuinely excited.

Kokichi pauses before grinning and continuing.

“...well of COURSE it still sounded good, I am the Ultimate Pianist after all.”

“With training like that, can you compose? Do you improvise? Or after that rigorous training are you forever bound to the classics? Would it feel wrong to play something modern, or do you like the jazz era too?”

“Wow Momota-chan, how dare you speak of jazz in my presence. I do not play that filth, only the best for my hands!”

“Ah… okay, well, then what made you keep at it? You’re inspired by the classics and your teacher was harsh, but there’s not much for those outside of concerts. Are those what you play for?”

“Silly Momota-chan, of course it’s about the audience. The audience is always who matters when you play music, because only they can hear what you really want to say with it! You really ask a lot of questions, ya know? Are you sure you’re an anthropologist and not Ultimate Journalist? Ultimate TV Show Host? Ultimate Cop? Hmmm?”

“Hey I know a thing or two about audiences, but I’m still an anthropologist, don’t you forget it! Been on lecturing tours at universities all over to show what I’ve put together. I bet those aren’t too different from touring concerts.”

Kokichi laughs and continues to poke. The interview devolves into defenses, Kaito’s illustrious experience and credentials taking the spotlight and questions forgotten. Soon enough they part and he’s off to interview another classmate. An anthropologist’s work is never done as long as there are people to learn from!

But that was hardly the end of what he heard from Ouma that day. You’d think a musician would be more considerate about the volume of their voice.

---

During lunch the elegant cosplayer approaches the pianist, poise exquisite. He seems to consider the boy’s clothes before posing a question.

“So, do you wear the classic tails and tie when you perform, Ouma-kun?”

“Oh yes all the classics. The tie, tails, knuckles, sonic-”

“I’m sorry the-”

“Gotta go fast, Shinguji-kun! You know that one right? Ever worn a mascot costume? Huh?”

After a moment of awkward silence to Ouma’s exclamations Korekiyo excused himself. Kaito, also in the dining hall figured that… could be a way he could show interest in the cosplaying talent. Maybe. But from his interview he knew mascots and simple designs were the farthest from what the cosplayer’s actual interest was.

---

During an argument about her tastes, it isn’t long before the artist tries to push back on the other art talent in the room, and prove herself more cultured.

“Well, I bet you don’t have any more recent musical influences hmm? All long dead men, who’s music is gathering dust. A real artist has to live in the now,” Tenko huffs.

“Oh but I love to stay current! Why just last month I attended a very inspiring concert.”

“Oh really? Tenko would like to know who!”

“Have you, my dear, heard the musical stylings of the Wiggles?”

The jazz hands are met with a nose thrust in the air as Tenko turns heel to leave. Kokichi calls something about artist temperaments after her, to which her heels in her exit from the courtyard clack a bit louder and angrier, like little daggers stabbing the pavement.

Possibly artistic differences? Competitive sort of field? Kaito isn’t sure he’s got a good enough grasp of Tenko’s stance on it all yet to judge.

---

This time the sound of a strange song with no tempo played obnoxiously that caught his attention, and the anthropologist stops in the doorway to look into a classroom.

“Why do you keep playing that thing? I thought you were a piano man, or something.”

To the astronaut who was pointing at the kazoo in his mouth, Kokichi holds it out with some flare.

“The kazoo, which we in the music industry like to call the tongue piano, is a very technical instrument to get right, but if you listen closely you can hear the nuances of a master, c’mon lean in.”

A sharp sound, a spray of spit and a string of profanities later, Miu storms out muttering about getting that key wiggling twink back while Kokichi laughs himself breathless. Kaito stumbles out of her way, his face pinched into a frown as he glances back at the classroom.

Perhaps this called for a follow-up interview.

---

Kaito returns from the library, fists clenched, looking around. Eventually he spots Kokichi, snapping his suspenders and chatting away at the magician, Shuichi, backed into the corner with something between fear and confusion on his face. His top hat is precariously close to tipping off his face while he pushes against the wall.

“Hey Ouma, I wanted to ask you some more questions!”

The pianist turns, tilting his head to the side, face blank for a moment before a cheshire grin spreads across it.

“Momota-chan! Of course, of course. Want to hear more from the master, couldn’t resist, I get it. Well I have plenty of time! Saihara-chan here won’t tell me the ritual he cast to get so powerful because I’m not a wizard like him! Maybe your interrogation will work!”

Kaito hesitates a moment. Wizard? Isn’t Shuichi a magician? “Ah, no I just have questions for you, not Saihara.”

That’s all it takes for Shuichi to take his chance to dart behind Kokichi and leave the room in a run. Neither of them have ever seen the kid move that fast. They are left alone.

“Right, so I just wanted to check a few things with you. You said Beethoven, Wagner, and Handel were your inspiration?”

“Why Momota-chan, were your ears taking a vacation? Yep! Those are my favourite piano composers! And I won’t repeat it again, so you better listen!”

“And when you messed up in Beethoven’s 10th Symphony your teacher made you play it backwards?”

Kokchi flutters his fingers in front of him dramatically. “Back and then front again, like a puppet!”

“And you despise jazz?”

Kokichi gags. “Won’t touch the stuff!”

Then without missing a beat, Kaito grins and asks a new question.

“So your entire interview with me was bullshit, huh?”

Kokichi scoffs and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “My, my, Momota-chan, what nerve you have to tell a musician he doesn’t know his own taste! Next I’ll be telling you about anthropology journals or whatever boring things you are inspired by!”

Kaito sighs and pulls a book out of his bag and flips it open, citing pages as he talks. “Wagner was a terrible pianist, and while he did write some pieces for the piano, apparently they pale in comparison to most other composers of his time. Beethoven only wrote 9 symphonies, so whether you can play one backwards or not you should have corrected the number when I repeated 10th back at you. And you say you dislike jazz but that’s the beat and style you’ve been playing on your kazoo all day.” He claps the book shut with a satisfied smirk on his face.

There’s silence between them for an uncomfortable moment, until Kokichi puts his arms back lazily behind his head and smiles.

“Wow, Momota-chan’s such a nerd.”

Kaito’s smirk drops and indignance rushes onto it, red and unready for its turn.

“Wh- No I’m not! How is finding out a liar nerdy? You’ve been messing with people all day I had to fact check, I-”

“Ohhh, not a nerd, my mistake, a stalker! Wow, I haven’t had one of those since that one time at one of my concerts when this guy grabbed me by my tails and-”

“Ouma, I don’t want to hear another story, I want to hear about you!” Kaito may have shouted it a touch louder than planned, as Kokichi’s tale about his tails abruptly cuts off.

“Why?”

“What? What do you mean ‘why’?”

“Momota-chan can ask questions, but he can’t answer them? Why don’t you want to hear a story. Stories are much more fun! Stories about hedgehogs, teachers, fun kid shows, wizards, and strange instruments. Why wouldn’t that be what anyone wants to hear? It only matters if you like what you hear, afterall.”

“I don’t care if it’s what I would like if it’s not about you. What’s the point in getting to know someone that way?”

“I don’t know, maybe you should tell me, you’re the one studying humans, and they tell some pretty stories when there’s nothing very pretty at all.”

Kokichi smirks and starts to walk out of the room. He’s almost out when Kaito says something to himself, quietly, but Kokichi’s trained ears hear it clearly.

“So you weren’t lying about that then.”

Kokichi turns, raising a brow. “What do you think was true, then, oh Ultimate Questioner?”

“That it’s all about the audience. You change your tune based on who’s listening, and if what you want them to hear? Then I wonder what your audience when you actually play is like.”

Kokichi frowns for a moment and continues walking out, no reply ready.

[end note]

Hope you guys enjoyed a taste of the dumb talent swap I’ve been nursing in headcanons for ages hahah <3 As a bonus, about their designs, some fun details. Kokichi tucks his hair behind his ears so he can better catch what people are saying quietly, and Kaito ended up wrecking his eyes and needing glasses from trying to read things in dark places on expeditions after dark or before the crew would set up. For @oumota-events week!

#oumota #oumotaweek #oumotaweek2019 #talentswap #fic #ndrv3 #au #my content #my writing #my talentswap #I made these nerds EVEN NERDIER #SOMEHOW #my oumotaweek #talent swap

[star-knight-barnes]

Phineas and Ferb meet Tony Stark

Ok so hear me out. Now, considering that P and F is made by disney and Marvel is owned by Disney I'm going to proceed by considering that this is all just one massive universe.

P and F supposedly live in Danville part of the tri state area which is mentioned I the show several times more well known as the greater New York City area, that contains the states New York New Jersey and Connecticut.

P and F started in 2007, a year before the first Iron Man. But that doesn't mean the two don't know him. Arguably Tony Stark is THE technological genius of the Century, long before Endgame came out. These kids would have known him and grew up with a desire to invent because of him. I'm sure of it. And it certainly would have gotten amplified when Tony becomes Iron Man.

And they definitely send him fanmail and tell him about their inventions

Now just imagine!

*

Jarvis: Sir there appears to be a Roller Coaster being built in the Flynn-Fletcher resident in Danville. It seems that two ten year olds are responsible for it.

Tony: What oh that's nice J. Send them some materials. Pepper tells me its good to encourage interest in STEM.

*

Jarvis: There's a 100ft tree house fight taking place in the Flynn-Fletcher resident

Tony: uh huh. Sure. Tell the kids they need to look out for traffic when they cross the roads. Ask them if they need some more reading materials. They really like the electrical engineering books I sent last time.

*

Jarvis: Sir it appears one of your favourite bands, Love Handle, has made a comeback. A concert is taking place in Danville at the residence of you're two favourite inventors' for their Parents' Anniversary. Perhaps Miss Potts and you would enjoy the evening?

Tony: Firstly Jarvis, that is classified information that does not leave my lab. If Rhodey found out I liked Love Handle he'd never let me live it down.

Jarvis: Noted, Sir.

Tony: it's probably fake. Who am I kidding of course it is. The kids probably just hired some look alikes. Love Handel making a comeback? SHIELD having a side branch that trains animals to be secret agents and fight super villains is more believable than Love Handle getting back together J.

*

Jarvis: sir I'm inclined to inform you that you have been up for 48 hours. A break might be ideal before you pass out from exhaustion.

Tony: later

Jarvis: the Flynn-Fletchers are inquiring if you would like to have a break in their recently constructed backyard beach. Shall I inform them that you will be unable to join?

Tony: (already asleep)

*

Jarvis: there's a chariot race taking place downtown. It's quite the spectacle.

Tony: yeah and Heinz ' all my creations have the word inator at the end' Doofensmirtz finally got his inventions to work. That guys like a bag of cats I swear

*

Tony eventually realises that wait this is all real and he immediately puts on the suit and goes to the Flynn Fletcher house while they're in the middle of making a spaceship. And he has to do a triple take.

Tony: Aren't you two a little young to be making a spaceship ?

Phineas: Yes, yes we are. We get that a lot.

Tony, smiling knowingly: So did I, when I was your age. Scoot over. I wanna see what you're working on.

.

.

.

Candace: Mom!! Phineas and Ferb are making a spaceship with Tony Stark!!

#of course tony would offer then interships at si afterwards. #tony stark #iron man #phineas and ferb #marvel #disney

[highly-opinionated-nerd]

Time to post the last ever recital crew WORK UPDATE:

I feel like I say this every semester but this one was a real roller coaster. Probably the most memorable thing that happened was when one of our faculty piano accompanists nearly collapsed during a performance and had to be carried offstage by the girl who was out there with him giving her senior recital (OOF). A horde of professors and one nurse who happened to be in the audience came rushing backstage to check on him, for which I was thankful because I sure didn’t know what to do. He was very pale, very cold, and short of breath. Poor guy felt so, so bad about ruining the performance...we ended up having to basically bully him into Dr. Scott’s car to get him to a doctor. The soloist finished her recital with grace, bless her heart.

That same night was the annual performance of Handel’s Messiah...coincidentally enough, just a few years ago they switched from doing full orchestra and combined choirs to a much reduced version featuring only a small group of soloists and two pianos. And you’ll never guess who was supposed to be playing piano that night! Thankfully we were able to get word to the choir department in time for them to find a replacement for the professor who fell ill.

Messiah still sucked for me though because we were short handed, so I had to take tickets, swipe students in, AND stage manage. All at the end of a 9 hour work day! Not the most fun time, for sure!

But there were good things that happened too. I met the Texas New Music Ensemble and had a great time with them- Andrew, Julia, and Chad, if you’re out there, you guys were a joy to have backstage (and Andrew I promise I am definitely going to check out that podcast that you recommended me)

10 Blind Dates for Solo Tuba is a great piece that I had the pleasure of hearing live, which I think everyone should check out. Just the titles of the movements alone are hilarious.

Ahh also I got to see the Vienna Boy’s Choir in concert!!! THE Vienna Boy’s Choir!!!!! I have such a raging troubadour crush on their conductor...Manuel Huber, wenn Sie da draußen sind.....Bitte, sei mein Freund...

“ThE hArPsIcHoRd’S nOt ThAt HeAvY”

(spoiler alert- IT DEFINITELY IS THAT HEAVY)

Was very rudely informed by the grad student in charge of moving the shells in the big hall that, due to some professors’ complaints, we were now required to keep the lights set to half stage. Ooooohhhhh that made me mad. I still have not forgiven them for that. Like how am I supposed to do my job if it’s pitch black backstage???? Thankfully though I found a loophole- they never said anything about having to have the piano garage lights off ; )

My studio had a wonderful masterclass with a clarinetist who had to at least have been in his seventies- it was amazing how sharp he was, and how well he could still play. My professor told me he wants ‘to be him when I grow up’

We had to have the entire trombone studio recital with the house lights up because the system glitched and wouldn’t turn them off, hahaaaaaaa

I made friends with a freshman violist at a chamber strings recital named Michael! And then I immediately put him to work tracking down performers for me (sorry Michael)

I got to work a lot of my peers’ senior recitals- both the kids who made it out in four, and those few of us who ended up needing an extra year. I mean, I always work a lot of senior recitals, but this semester it felt specialer. I’m very proud of all of us.

I also gave my own senior recital, of course! It went off way better than I expected it to, which was great!!!!!!

found backstage: a whole doughnut with only one bite taken out of it (food is definitely Not Allowed in any of our halls)

found backstage: open package of plastic straws

found backstage: brand new thing of Gustave Bernardel rosin (which I STOLE!!!!)

found backstage: two (2) squares of that jelly stuff that percussionists put on their snares sometimes for reasons unknown to me

found backstage: one (1) plastic flower

Aaaaand that’s it! Next semester I’m student teaching, so I won’t be on campus to work recital crew any more. I turned in my keys and everything. As much as I complained about it (which is to say all the time, to anyone who would listen to me), I did really enjoy it and I really will miss it a lot. I hope the kid who replaces me enjoys it just as much.

#music life #@Scott I'm not employed by the university anymore SO #YOU WANNA F I G H T??? #YOU WANNA GO YOU JERK?????? #TELL ME TO KEEP THE LIGHTS ON HALF STAGE WILL YOU! #Scott is my villain origin story I'm convinced of it

[askeletonintheclosetfic]

The one with the black boots in summertime

June 25, 1986.

I can never know how to begin these things so I'm going to improvise this whole thing from the get-go. I have improvised things like this before: writing is in my veins, in my soul, in every inch of myself.

My name is Christina Moon, I am nineteen years old—I'll be turning twenty in five days. I never wanted anything more than to close out my teen years on a high note, and it looks as though it will. I also go by Chris and since I was a little kid, I've gone by Luna from my last name and the fact I'm a Cancer.

I was born in Reno, Nevada to Olivia and Vincent Moon, a headstrong journalist and a wandering businessman respectively.

Standard disclaimer: I have a good relationship with my dad, like I'll get a ring from him on my birthday or Christmas time, and sometimes I'll go down to Reno to visit him for Thanksgiving, but my mom and I haven't lived with him since I was in kindergarten. My mom, who's a born and raised New Yorker and thus lives and abides by the whole mantra of "I don't need no man", divorced him right after my fifth birthday and we moved up to Seattle for a new life. It made sense given I would start kindergarten that September: a brand new chapter in mine and my mom's lives. Regardless, that was still the first time I ever felt fully alone and without a friend to speak to.

Mom found a job as a journalist at the local newspaper shortly after we had moved, and she was the only person I had a means of communication with back then: even from a young age, I found myself spending a lot of time going solo. At some point I started taking after her, picking up a pen and applying it to paper. Let's just say I've kept a journal for as long as I can remember.

But on the other hand, I met my best friend Cecilia on the first day of school and we've kept at it all throughout school. Her name's Cecilia, but I've always called her Ceecee from day one. We were both lanky kids with our skinny limbs and narrow faces: I was the platinum blonde one where she was the fiery redhead. We did all the stuff that little girls do, from play dates to messing around with each other's hair: I always wanted to curl her straight maple red hair where she always teased me about taking some locks of mine and dyeing them outrageous colors like hot neon pink. I don't remember the context, but I do in fact recall making a promise to her that if we formed a band together in the future, I would color my hair for her.

She seemed intent on my dyeing my hair because I still remember the day she told me in the second grade that she wanted to learn guitar and she actually did it. I walked home with her to see it for myself: it was this beautiful little dark wooden acoustic guitar with a nice gloss to the body and a black neck: the strings were silvery and shiny, like the moon.

There was a pair of lacy lilies engraved near the bridge, and I immediately got a hankering to start a band with her. Since we were both latchkey kids, whenever I went over to her house, she and I traded off playing around with it. We never learned any one song per se, just more along the lines of jamming. She became the maestro where I leveled off to focus more on my writing, par in thanks to her mom suggesting she go into music theory when we grew old enough. Within time, Ceecee dove into classical music and jazz, and I into writing words down in a journal.

But I think that by the time we left second grade and ventured into that summer, I wanted to learn music on my part. I searched around for a guitar of my own, one that was to be exactly like hers, with the engraved lilies and everything.

It wasn't until the end of August, about three weeks before the first day of school, when Ceecee's older sister Clara, with her black shades hiding her dark visionless eyes from the damage of the sun, led me over to a ramshackle looking box to the curb right outside of their house. I always knew what she lacked in her eyes beginning from a young age she made up in her other senses. She told me she found it upon hearing it make a noise that resembled to reverberations, the ones from the body of a guitar, while she was walking along with her cane. She had tapped on the box with her cane for me and I knew what she was talking about. I opened up the lid to reveal a small fiery red acoustic guitar with little black flowers carved along the edge of the body. The strings were golden, and I knew it would serve to be the perfect contrast to Ceecee's guitar. I thanked Clara and, after helping her back into the house, I took it home with me.

I could never figure out how she did it: every day after school, she always jammed on it like clockwork, playing with her fingers along to Clara's Coltrane records and some Handel. On the other hand, I fiddled around with mine and made up a few riffs, none of which sounded good enough. I always gravitated back to my journal with words and phrases, in hopes to write a song. However, I figured maybe this could be the way we would operate in the future: I could give the lyrics where she could think of the music.

Mind, we were in elementary school when all of this was happening. It felt as though we were living our destiny, two best friends going into the great wide unknown with the tools of our trade.

But I insisted on playing the guitar. Clara found the box and I was always so adamant on playing on Ceecee's prior to that summer day.

There is in fact some good news, though: the first song I learned on my guitar was "Cracked Actor" from David Bowie and it only took me two weeks despite it being so easy to play. Ceecee joked to me that I could be the rhythm guitarist in our band, but I knew she was right. I just never reached the virtuoso level that she did by the time we reached high school and she officially decided on music theory as her career. Everyone always called her the girl who could give Frank Zappa a run for his money; I was always seen as the next Jim Morrison even though I'm a far cry from a poet.

We knew we were onto something great when she called me up one day and suggested we definitely go through with the whole band idea, which meant I had to dye my hair given I lost the bet. As she helped me color a few locks of my hair hot pink and neon blue, we thought of names together. I threw out the name Black Moon, as a hybrid of our last names Blackwood and Moon. She liked it because it sounded sinister like Black Sabbath, and yet girly and badass at the same time. Since it was just the two of us, we considered being the next Simon and Garfunkel, or Heart, given Clara didn't play an instrument but did make art via her sense of touch. We promised her that if we were ever signed a deal with a label, we wanted her to make the cover art for our album.

Sometime in our sophomore year, she picked up a bass. Now we could officially be a duo and perform if we wanted. We both polished up on how gear and things like that works, all the boring, stark mumbo-jumbo that no one wants to read about: we read about that and voraciously studied it. We were that hungry for success, which meant we would do anything, even if it included vowing to do the homework after doing our homework.

We both left our high school for a magnate school given our very specific career choices, and it almost became like obsessions with us. She was neck deep in the world of classical music and early jazz, and I was wanting to write every hour of the day. We both graduated last year in the eighth and ninth respective places overall: there was only a fifth of a grade point average separating me from our valedictorian. But it didn't matter at that point because we were en route to being the biggest girl duo to come out of Seattle, the next Heart.

But much to our chagrin, no one wanted to sign us. We were relegated to playing in my mom's garage when she wasn't home or in the Blackwood's garage for Clara. Our biggest hit was a cover of Heart's "Straight On" and that was because Ceecee always killed the solo, not because either of us were about to be the next Ann Wilson.

Rather recently, Clara suggested that we go to a concert, a big one at that, too, that is if we wanted an idea as to how to show off to a greater audience. She told us that even though we sounded good and tough and feminine, we didn't have that power. But she swore to us that she didn't want us to blame it on the fact we lacked a drummer. Neither of us had any desire to see Aerosmith or Whitesnake over in Spokane, and it was too far of a drive for either of us no matter who was playing, and all of the little punk shows around town always seemed to happen after the fact. To top it off, we live in Seattle: nobody comes here. It's one thing if we were living in New York City where my mom's from, but here, we're kind of our own thing. So it's rare to hear about a big North American tour stopping up here, much less the tour of anyone we're a fan of.

But I think it was when I walked to the market to pick up some things when I caught a glimpse of a flyer on a telephone pole. It was solid black and it advertised Ozzy Osbourne and three bands playing over at the Coliseum: Metallica, Anthrax, and Metal Church, and it was set to play tonight, one night only and add to this, it was an all ages show. I told Ceecee about it because we listen to Sabbath and Ozzy; Clara volunteered to come with us given she was older and handicapped, and later explained that by saying the ushers would treat us nice.

It wasn't just the ushers who treated us nice, but the fans waiting in line outside in the warm early summer Seattle sun, as well. They all seemed to appreciate the fact that Clara, despite being totally blind, wanted to take her kid sister and her best friend to a heavy metal show. There was this one guy waiting outside of the venue who was so nice to us and to Clara in particular.

He wore these big black boots with chains down the sides, big black boots despite it being the summer time. He looked like a rock n' roller with his long kinky curly black hair draped over his slim shoulders and mirrored sunglasses upon his face: he was very thin, skinny in fact, but had these cute little chubby cheekbones when he smiled at us. When he stepped in the shade, he removed his sunglasses and showed us these big brown eyes, as brown as the earth. When the sun shone upon his head, it was like looking on at a wise Indian chief at a sun ceremony.

It wasn't until we learned the show was canceled when we found out this man, Joey, was in fact the lead singer of Anthrax and the five of them got word that one of their fans who awaited outside was totally blind. Their guitarist Scott Ian attempted to head on out but he had to tend to something real quick with their manager. We didn't get the chance to meet them but Joey did vow to us that they would hang around in Seattle for a couple of days, especially once Ceecee told him that she and I were a band. It was almost like a fairy tale: three days ago, Ceecee and I were aching for an audience and now we had a looking in view with Anthrax, this quintet, coincidentally from New York that we only just heard of.

So here I am, writing about this experience and wondering if I'm dreaming. I'll write more after our lunch with Joey and the boys tomorrow, but now, sleep.

#new chapter #fanfic #fanfiction #anthrax fanfic #heavy metal fanfiction #thrash metal fanfiction #heavy metal #thrash metal #anthrax #a skeleton in the closet #joey belladonna #amwriting #dark romance #horror romance #writing #text #*my edit

[kuriboo]

Vrains Rarepair Weeks - Day 11

Sweets / Music

Prompts can be found over here! Also posting over at AO3

"The holiday concert for school back home is coming up," Takeru said.

It's a pretty abrupt conversation topic, but then, neither of them had spoken in at least an hour. With everything else going on in their lives, both Yusaku and Takeru had fallen behind on homework. Yusaku didn't consider it a problem, but Takeru apparently did. The two of them were sitting together at a table in front of Cafe Nagi, working in silence to catch up.

Or, it had been silence, but Yusaku wasn't complaining. He was starting to get sick of trig. Sick of silently reciting SOHCAHTOA in his head for every problem. Sick of slowly punching expressions into his calculator. He needed the break.

"A holiday concert?" he repeated.

"The school's music department puts one on every year around this time. All the band and choruses at the school perform a few songs and a bunch of people in the community come to listen," Takeru explained.

Did their high school do something like that? Yusaku honestly wasn't sure. He never paid attention, never had any reason to. Music wasn't his forte, and he kept himself pretty busy, between his illegal hacking activities and being Playmaker.

"Kiku and I have gone together for years," Takeru went on. "It's fun to see what songs they do each year, and how often some of them get repeated." He laughed. "Kiku joined one of the choruses this year, though, so she can't watch it with me. I still plan on going, though. Even more so, now, to support her. It's the least I can do, after she's done so much to support me."

"I see." Yusaku frowned. Takeru was from a ways away where they were now. He'd probably be gone for at least a day, then. Takeru was certainly free to live his own life, and Yusaku could probably handle Vrains alone until he came back. He'd done fine against the Knights of Hanoi dueling on his own, after all. If they were lucky, SOL and Lightning would take a few days off, too.

"Do you want to come?" Takeru asked. "It's a fun concert. And you could meet Kiku, meet my grandparents. I'm sure they'd love to meet you."

Yusaku blinked. The invitation caught him off guard, he hadn't been expecting that. And it was...touching, that Takeru was offering him into a tradition he had with his friend.

The holidays were coming. Everyone deserved a break. Even himself, he supposed.

"Sure, if you don't mind having me along."

"Why would I? The more the merrier."

"There's Kiku!" Takeru whispered as the first chorus group began to make their way to the risers. As Kiku got into place and turned to face the audience, Takeru waved at her. She glanced over at him at smiled brightly.

So, this was Kiku. Takeru's friend before he transferred schools and became Soulburner.

It wasn't like Yusaku had much to base his opinion off of, but the concert seemed nice. It sounded good, anyway. And everyone around him seemed happy. That was the most important thing.

Then the last song in the program was announced.  Audience members who knew the song were encouraged to go up front with the performers and sing with them. Booklets were handed out to everyone, audience member or chorus member, who went up front. It probably had lyrics or notes in it, that would make sense, right? It looked long.

"I'll be back. You can stay here." Takeru stood up. "It's rude if I know the song and don't sing, right? Kiku and I have been enough of these that we know the song, we've sang it with them a few times now."

Yusaku watched Takeru walk up front and take a booklet.

(Takeru forgot to tell him before, but the school did this every year during the holiday concert. Every year, everyone would come together and sing Handel's chorus, Hallelujah, together.)

The song was long, but Yusaku decided it was one of his favorites from that night's concert.

"Takeru, you came for the concert!" Kiku greeted him with a grin.

Once the concert was over, it took them a little while to find Kiku. But Kiku never would let them hear the end of it if Takeru left without talking to her, and there was no way Takeru was leaving before he saw her, anyway.

"You thought I wouldn't? We come every year, there's no way I'm going to miss it. Especially not since I get to see you," Takeru told her.

"You've started styling your hair differently since I last saw you," Kiku noticed. "It looks more like it did when you were younger... I like it."

"Doesn't look like you've changed much since the last time I was home, but that's okay. I like you just the way you are." Takeru laughed.

Yusaku thought they would catch up for longer at first, but Kiku turned to him after that. "So, I see you brought someone to take my place."

"I'm not..." Yusaku began.

Takeru rolled his eyes. "It's not like that. I figured you wouldn't believe me if I told you I'm making friends at my new school, so I brought Yusaku as proof."

Yusaku mentally caught up; both their voices were ripened with sarcasm, neither of them really meant what they said. He offered Kiku a handshake. "I'm Yusaku."

"And I'm Kiku. It's nice to meet you." Kiku accepted his handshake. "You're more polite than Takeru is."

"I'm not that rude," Takeru protested. "I'm trying to be better, now, I swear!"

"Then thank you for being a positive influence on his life." Kiku giggled. "I hope he's attending class and keeping up with his work."

Yusaku blinked. "He's the one who pushes me to keep up with my work, actually."

"Oh?" Kiku turned to look at Takeru. "You really have changed, haven't you? But that's a good thing. I think I like this Takeru better. I think your grandparents will, too"

"I'm not really that bad, am I?" Takeru groaned, running a hand through his hair.

"But, really." Kiku faced Yusaku again. "Thanks for being his friend, I mean it. Takeru had a tendency to push people out, so he didn't have many friends."

"I'm usually the same way, so I can related," Yusaku admitted.

"Then it sounds like it's  good thing you found each other," Kiku said.

#vrainsrarepairweeks #firestormshipping #at my high school every year during the holiday concert...we'd sing the hallelujah concert at the end #it's long so no one hand to memorize it. and anyone in the audience who knew the song too could go up and sing with the choruses #i guess it's only natural that i've been nostalgic lately...been thinking about it lately. and it manifested here #sworn my allegiance to magic queue #just noticed a typo in the tags it's hallelujah chorus not hallelujah concert jfc

[stone-man-warrior]

December 19, 2020: 1:26 pm:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_I_of_Great_Britain

King George I of Great Britain

King George I Rock Star of Great Britain

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Water_Music

George liked music, so, he ordered Sunday Concerts performed from boats on the River Themes, it was 1717, July.

Joules on the Water.

Enormous Power, there were no iPhones in 1717, Water Music was a display of enormous power at the time. People came from all over the region to see the musician and hear the music played on an armada of floating orchestra stages. The people floated their own boats, and made picnic on the shore line along the Themes River.

It’s been said that musicians were scarce at the time, however, it’s also recorded history that many people learned to play a musical instrument in those days. A violin was the equivalent of a Game Boy back then, all the kids wanted one.

There have been a lot of musical instrument pieces parts dredged up from the bottom of the Themes River since 1717. Some of the History of Music Books report that when the musicians were not skilled enough to play the music while floating on a boat without making mistakes, they were tossed overboard into the water along with their instruments by King George’s Guards.

I suppose that could be another reason to go to the Water Music show in a boat or at a picnic, the entertainment was full service.

The composer of the selected works is Handel.

Thunderbird’s Episode 3: “Perils of Penelope”

Fast Forward to the end of Perils of Penelope to better understand the beginning.

They are still finding musical instrument parts in and around the Themes River to this day.

Gordon gets all upset that he has to listen to “cheap sea music”.

It’s a violin serenade at a Paris Bistro.

(Penelope had said something about a glass that exploded near her lips the last time she was there at the Paris Bistro. So. time warp over to the previous episode to see how Virgil used explosive charges to blow those other lips off of the Pit of Peril, so they could drag the LBJ Cockroach out of the Oxditch. It’s all symbolic, would take a lot of effort to spell out, so, you do that on your own, I’ll just point some things out that seem important to me, and I leave out the obvious, so, I usually show abstract connections to the current terror we are experiencing now. Besides, I still have glass dust in my eyes from physical attack here at my house the other day and have poor vision at the moment, it’s difficult to see what I am doing. Try to see that the Thunderbird’s Episodes are about global advance of highest level terror, while are actually disguised with sexual innuendo, presented in a children puppet show in the middle of the 1960′s, filmed in “Supermariovision”, or, “Marionette Vision from Above”. Did you get a load of that 1965 Sony Game Boy that have in this episode in Father’s Office? I often say that the tech we have available to us commercially has a delay on it’s presentation at the stores. These Thunderbird’s episodes support that, when you start to see 1965 Game Boy right there. How far does the commercial technology delay really go? I have implanted microphone transmitter inside my jaw that has been broadcasting every word I have said since it was put there in 2011 at a dentist visit without my knowledge or consent... secret spy implant inside my body. The battery is still working and it has a range of about 500 feet as far as I can tell. But no one will believe it even though there is Blue-Tooth devises everywhere, and all of the smoke detectors that were made in 2001 have batteries that last ten years, some of them are still working, twenty years later, with the same battery they came with from the store.)

Now go back to the begging of the Perils of Penelope. See that the whole thing started because some Special Rocket Fuel was used to launch a rocket, and there is talk that the Rocket Fuel could harm the Oceans of the world, and subsequent talk about harm to people because of what could happen to the water.

That was a Violin Serenade Gordon was upset about having to listen to, in Paris. Pair ass... there was talk of lips at the time... and of a chalice that exploded... the International Rescue Team looked cautiously at distant fireworks saying “ooohhh... aahhhhhh”. Is very subtle, disguised in sexual innuendo on a kids show, is really about staying distant from fireworks when holstering nitrous oxide gas.

The episode features a tunnel. A suspended Monorail style Disney Train. There are some Ventilation vents in the tunnel. There are some power controls in the tunnel where the Disney Train (Happiest Place on Earth) is rolling through.

There is a mysterious “Crest” that changes everything about the direction that the plot of Perils of Penelope started out with. The Crest serves as diversion, away from ideas that could make people continue being concerned with Special Rocket Fuel that could harm the Oceans and Humanity.

I did not see any wild geese. I looked for them.

The story started with a big rocket, it ended with small rockets exploding at a violin serenade. There was a modern train and a tunnel in between those two events, a chase for a crest, some foggy coughing gas happened at the crest chase at a library of old knowledge where no one has been reading about the knowledge contained there for a long, long time. There was a Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride with Parker through a lot of curvy roads.

I think there is still a good guy that wants to stop the train laying out in some wilderness near a gate by the roadside... I don’t recall seeing International Rescue go try to find the guy that was tossed from the train... maybe I missed that part.

I’ll draw a conclusion here, a brief one: The Makers of the Thunderbird’s episodes in 1965 were reaching many, potentially millions of terror soldiers with a puppet show. In the stories are messages that are directed to top leading government officials, there are messages directed to Church leaders in communities. There are messages that are directed to children who attend church, possibly their parents also. There are messages that are designed to make set-up to trap victims who are not church members with false-front built into the episodes.

The Church leaders train the church members based on what the high government plans are, such as to get Lyndon B. Johnson elected a second time. The episodes tell of development of a plan to attack regional areas, the church members are the terror army. They have commanders at Church, who have commanders at government, who have commanders at the place where the puppet show came from.

In 1965 the plans were still a sketch on a drawing board for the regional attacking, and the advance of key operatives in the government positions were fully underway, while the church’s had been manned and ready to take orders far ahead of these Thunderbird’s episodes were presented, all staffed, training facilities in place, covertly, able to expand as necessary through normal and customary Crusade work as has been done for hundreds of years.

This episode seems to further support and advise of a plan to use nitrous gas, while advising of danger around flame and spark, and has emphasis on diversion tactics to draw attention away from the subject with use of planted clues left laying around for investigators to trip over near the curves, all of which lead them astray.

Why did Father pull young Gordon out of the Submarine to do spy work in Paris?

3:20 pm?

===============

Consider the following:

The puppets and the machinery, sets, details... all of the visual characteristics of the Thunderbird’s presentations are absolutely amazing to look at. Once you get past the creepy sort of vibe they have, it all is very entertaining and is also like brain food... makes me think. There is nothing stupid about these episodes.

So, with that, see that the engineering is such that it makes you think, sparks creativity, is something that is like the Big Fog Horn in the Sky that could direct young people into hobby and career choices later on.

See that all of the pilots are Tracy’s.

Trey C

“Trinity of the Holy See”

See that Tin-Tin is different, Brains is different, and even Parker is somehow different than the Tracy’s are.

The Tracy’s cannot do Jack.... without Brains.

Brains, is depicted as a geek, he stutters, is not cool. He is super smart, but kids watching the show probably don’t want to be like Brains, they want to be more like Virgil. But Virgil cannot do Jack... without Brains to tell him what POD to put onto the Mother Ship, Thunderbird 2, after the scout, Thunderbird 1 goes to make assessments in all of the episodes.

I suggest that Brains is a kidnapped engineer, and Tin-Tin is also a prisoner, special service slave, and all of that is built in to the episodes for the messaging to the various leaders in real life, who are shown what the future plans are. to have other people spend half of their lives in schools learning about engineering, kidnap them, and use them to advance the terror from captivity of The Tracy’s (Trinity See’s).

Parker is there in the episodes to show that terror operatives have a place when they grow older, are not able to do the physical attack duties, are given light duty work, is nice, cushy, easy to do spy work. I already know that to be true, now I see that Parker was put there to show Terror Operative Social Security Retirement System is present in the master plan. I can see that in practice clearly any day of the week while grocery shopping. Parker’s are all over the place doing light duty scouting work at the stores, and driving around looking for outsiders on the roads and at the stores.

The Tracy’s cannot do Jack... without Brains. Look at Boeing Seattle to find real life examples of engineers held in captivity as slaves who design aircraft and military equipment. The Brains of the terror is a slave engineer, all kinds of engineers.

I am such a slave engineer, sort of, I escaped. I did graphic design work, all kinds of drawings, some of my work is on the Boeing airplanes that the aerospace engineers were forced to work on. Now I am captive with different kind of captivity. So much pressure when I go outside, or to get some food, that is the captivity, someone shoots or swings a sword when I go outside. There are no other reasons why I cannot go outdoors, only because of the terror soldiers surrounding my home. no one will help, it’s all fucked up... been more than ten years since I had meaningful conversation with another human being.

In reality here in Oregon, they need the scouts to keep from being detected, and to search for potential victims. The scouts make contact to others who are equipped for learning about who the outsiders are.

3:41 pm

======

I am starting to see that Mike Pomeo is a lot like Thunderbird’s HQ at Volcano Island, in mysterious ways.

I am thinking that the Thunderbird’s episodes serve as fuel for communication far after their initial presentation.

One small way to possibly make a connection in association to the LBJ Cockroach (is part elephant after careful consideration, LBJ Elephroach or Cockaphant) is that good guy who wants to stop the train, is still there by the gate on the curvy road side. That gate, could possibly be the source of the origin of the use of Watergate Hotel, when Richard Nixon was getting in the way and communication began about what the Tracy’s plan to get back on track might be.

Just refer back to Perils of Penelope from about ten years before Watergate happened. The gate is where the good guy tripped over a rock, at a gate, near some curves.

The plan: Use some curvy women, at a hotel, to foul up Richard.

18 minutes of silence is why he resigned.

There are no real other reasons, just some silence. The silence is also most likely fake silence.

It’s small, but could be a volcano of information to consider the gate, the rock, the guy on the ground near the curves is about taking Nixon out of office ten years later, and in retrospect to how he fouled the Tracy’s up when he was elected instead of their Oxroach, or whatever, LBJ, as they looked at the old episodes that all of the Tracy Trinity Warriors are very familiar with. I further suggest looking at that with a French Decoder Attachment to the Decoder Ring, w/prophylactics because if I am correct, it has French Fingerprint on it... the French way, is the smallest way... they don‘t use a missal to shoot down an airplane, they use a bee in the cockpit of the airplane, and that little piece of pork that comes in the Van De Camps Pork & Beans, that goes on the pilots uniform.... the bee is just turned loose in there. Works the same as the missal, makes less noise. So, some tiny little detail is what did the trick to take down Tricky Dick, who is more like Dick Tracy, private eye.

4:25 pm.

==================

Who were the players at the Hotel?

I remember Earlman (Earl of Canterbury, or some shit like that)

Haldeman (A Halter Top... why do you think they call those “Halter Tops”? Because they be used to stop a freight train)

Spirro Agnew was nearby... that can‘t be good. It huts just to say his name.

Little known Factoid: There is a big hotel called “The Watergate” in California, somewhere between Santa Monica and Huntington Beach. I forget where, but it’s very big.

The gate scene in Penelope’s Pit Stop of Peril:

A rock

a gate

curves

a car

the gate is closed, there is a road there.

Parker passed by

there was an injured man

Those will possibly be the ingredients to what happened at the Tricky Dick framing. Arrange them in various orders, see where it goes compared to what the actual record shows.

Seriously. The French Way. Small details, big results.

Let’s say there is a guy who has some military gear he can sell to you out the side door, he says:

“Look at this baby, big motherfucker, has six wheels, bends in the middle and goes Whhooosh!” ~quote from Hollywood movie

Penelope Pit Stop. (Google it)

===============

This is a mind blower here, but:

Let’s say that these guys at Tracy HQ are the hard core global terrorists that they appear to be when viewed with Cracker Jack Secret Decoder Ring, and, they really did think of everything many years in advance, the way it looks like they did, British Chess Player style.

The episode has a “Backfire” vibe to it.

So, the plan is to LBJ elected for a second time, for a two and a half terms in office duration, post JFK assassination, and is the reason Jacqueline shot John that day, so LBJ could take the Oval Office driver seat.

So, the back up plan in event of backfire is in the episode ahead of time contained in the gate scene where the French Conductor looks like a good guy, says he wants to stop the train. Ingredients all in place for a Watergate to happen no matter who was elected that year, if LBJ was not successful. That means the ingredients for the backup/backfire plan would have a lot generic characteristics, and limited personally tailored ones, and are in that episode somewhere, everywhere in there, I think. But of course the Russian Mother Hoax is all adjustable, so, once the election happened, LBJ not elected, then the Custom Tailoring could be done, depending on the particular candidate elected other than LBJ Cockephant in Cambodia, or where ever.

===

Small detail is that there is Corning-wear on the train. It’s out of place in a Thunderbird’s episode, but at the time, in 1965, everyone has Corning-Wear that looks exactly like the coffee maker and that other thing. It’s a Peculator, (for the younger field agents) not a drip kind.

Peculator ideas were presented on Twitter recently from major news networks. Twitter Verified Accounts read this Tumblr account closer than I do, they need to make sure they all come up with appropriate bullshit story in response to what I am exposing here.

Ronald Reagan Trickle Down Economics and it’s failure recent news are about the Corning-Wear on that Thunderbird’s train.

Perc. There is a test that is done for consideration of ground conditions when water or waste water needs to be measured for rate of Peculation back into the aquifer. That may be a clue as to why did Father bring Gordon out of the Submarine to do spy work in Paris?.

Corning-Wear on a 1965 Thunderbird’s Puppet Train is the same as Ronald Reagan Trickle Down Economics on network news Twitter Tweets, some 55 years after the fact. (see Enormous Power Shift Chart Reading from yesterday here at this account for coincidental 55 year cross-referencing considerations)

=========

Twitter is Volcano Island Tracy High Command HQ.

Same Function, just is backwards. like Lady Penelope’s car, is backwards, that is what she is for, is like 1965 Taylor Swift, fast ass for terror advance. Is not International Rescue HQ, is Global Domination Under the Cross HQ... just like I have been trying to say for many years.

Twitter resources are a lot like Tracy Volcano Island ones. They have master listening capability through Google, is like Thunderbird 5 satellite. They can use scouts from State Police or Community Churches, like Thunderbird 1. They have mother ship at the major movie studios that can deploy anything, anywhere, like Thunderbird 2 does. They have all kinds of below the surface characters to call on, Gordon‘s Fisherman are everywhere, Thunderbird 4.

I don’t know what Thunderbird 3 is for, have to watch more episodes to find out... but that one is number 3... can‘t be good. I don‘t think we can afford to wait to see what that one is for. Pompeo might be driving that one, from US State Department at Iranian Terror Party Pirate Rental Service HQ.

=====================

6:57 pm: Bonus:

If you grew up in 1960′s, 1970′s, then you were subject to the idea that if you are a small child, and are more than say 5 years old, but are not quite 6 years old, then, you must be 5 and one-half years old.

Same is true if you are 3, and not quite 4, then, you are 3 and one-half years old, even if your birthday is next month, still, 3 and one-half is how old you say you are.

So, now we go back to the Thunderbird’s episode 2, Pit of Peril, where the LBJ Cockroach machine fell into the fiery Oxditch.

They were said to have fallen 300 feet down the hole.

360 = one term in office

180 = one half term in office

360 + 360 = 720 = Two full four year terms.

720 + 180 = 900 the desired depth or length of official term time in office. Two and one half terms.

900 ÷ 3 = 300 = The depth of the place where LBJ fell, was spotted driving a cockroach in the Asian Jungles. Damage control deployed, with goal of Land Slide victory in 1968 election for Lyndon Johnson, but he did not run for office of president that year as far as I can see.

Richard Nixon won the 1968 election. He shut down the whole Vietnam War that had been going on since 11-1-1955, however, there is not much mention of that in online information, which says the war kept going until after he left office, stopped in 1975 according to Wikipedia, a 20 year war, without any apparent goals.

I see some LBJ finger prints on the math from the depth of the Pit of Peril in that Thunderbird’s episode. Some of the information available online does not support the same things I remember from the time period. It was a long time ago, I have a good memory, but it’s not very long.

There is something about the emphasis on the depth of that pit at 300 feet. If it’s not indicator of desired result of meddling in US elections by the British, then, I don‘t know what it is right now.

===

I remember that Nelson Mandela was in a prison somewhere, refused food for a long time. I remember that he died in the prison in the 1970′s, but that is not what the available online information says what happened to Nelson Mandela and the album called “Meet the Beatles” has changed in some places to “With the Beatles” and there are copies available to see with each title.

Printing is cheap. Digital information is cheaper.

Medical record keeping was Mandated to all go digital about 20 years ago, but that is a different story for a different day. Sometimes the only thing that stays the same is that things will change.

French North American Republic Territory is coming down the road like a Cockroach in Cambodia, no one is concerned about it. That is some big change, maybe no one will notice.

So far, nitrous oxide mixed with medazolam has been the preferred weapon, but I have a feeling Corona Virus could possibly end with a Violence Sarin-Aid Cocktail at the French Bistro, right here in US of A served with a Union instead of a olive in a Holy Grail on top of a Big Tip.

========================================

9:32 pm:

Local update on a walk to the mailbox revealed 376 Chartrand has installed a new mail box at the local mailboxes. There is a replacement big white mailbox there in place of a smaller one. 376 is only supposed to have one mailbox, but there have two there for a long time along with all of the other boxes.

One envelope in my mailbox had been opened and resealed, just some advertising mail in an official looking envelope. Judging by the envelope, it could be that someone is using my mail to reach Oregon State Royal Canadian Mounted Police Officer Tanya Henderson, or, could be Tanya Henderson reaching out to Oregon State Royal Canadian Mounted Police Officer Jeffrey Prouix, but I am pretty sure Officer Prouix was already killed in defense years ago. The envelope has a Tanya Henderson vibe to it, she is that Hot Chick works as cop at State, has a tattoo on her ankle, says “Jesse” in invisible white ink.

There was the sound of a emergency siren vehicle that lasted for about three minutes, is very unusual to here sirens around here, the emergencies are not handled with conventional means, the sirens are just for show, so, there must be some fools nearby who needed to hear the sound of a siren, for posterity sake.

There was the scent of perfume on my driveway, smelled like a French Brothel.

The odor of a skunk was near the creek along the path I walk, is unusual, there are no forest animals, some skunks must have been imported to please the senses of the fools who were entertained by the siren.

Distant boom sounds came from the south west, near Merlin is my best guest, about 10 booming noises that sounded as if they were loud if nearby, but from here were just a faint whisper of a boom in the distance.

The sound of one hot rod sort of car was heard near the church.

There are no signs of helpful people. no help has come.

There was a very loud explosion or shotgun blast sort of noise nearby my house this afternoon, I did not go look, was bait, a set-up.

Also remarkable is that I heard something that sounded like a distant television... as if someone was watching a movie, and could here that from coming through the woods from Russell Road. That could be the fools. I have not heard the sound of a television being watched in about fifteen years even in the summer time, they are only for show, left on so that they are visible in the windows, but are forbidden to watch around  here, so, be advised, watching a TV if the terror army finds out, will get you marked as an outsider, tracked down, captured, tortured. farmed of assets, and your family will be hunted as a result, so, the fools should turn the TV off, or at least turn the volume down before they get killed.

=====================

11:07 pm:

Back up the page here I mentioned some things about 1717, classical music, iPhone’s and violins, so, I need to do a fair warning that the Twitter Warriors are all over these entries and are going to cause Russian Mother Hoax Fractal problems as a result of what I mentioned about that. This is not my first rodeo, learned this before when I explained other things about Water Music.

“How do you know that all of the kids wanted a musical instrument if were not there?” is the approach the bastards will take, as they head over to other musical history, a place where nsa simply is not interested in, and that area of the Russian Fractal is going to produce “Chamber Music”, which is why I know all of the kids wanted a violin or other instrument when there were no iPhones yet, though, I am convinced that technically, the iPhone was on the drawing board in 1717 in Great Britain.

There will be all kinds of chambers, if things work out as they have before, and tonight I can see that the terror bastards are already gearing up for a big music day tomorrow.

Chamber Music was a informal gathering of a four piece ensemble played in a living space of some neighbors in the shire, back then, because people used to be interested in making some music, in absence of PlayStation. Beware of the double barrel chamber, or especially the Judges Chamber, that one is actually called a “Judge” is a revolver that fired miniature shot gun shells, by a county judge, magistrate, court jester, etc.

There are many chambers, such as the Chamber of Commerce, otherwise known as Club Northwest, just around the corner from the official office of the Chamber. I suspect Chamber Fractal Generations will be iterating in full range Dolby 5.1 Surround Sound by tomorrow afternoon, so, those fools on Russell would be well advised to seek High Ground before they become back-upsingers themselves.

I can see the orders for the Dolby 5.1 Surround Chamber Music Event are ordered to happen tomorrow, and tonight, in this Vintage King Audio Promotional Terror Commands from Vatican Choir HQ that came today just at about the time I started posting information about Handel, Rock Star George I of Great Britain, and the musicians that got tossed over board when the boat started rocking.

That is the entire ad. The bottom part is signed in triplicate. Those three parts that have the colorful block of text explaining about Lucas (ahem) and Dolby is expressed right there openly. I don’t think I have seen such orders signed in Triplicate before like that. It looks like real bad news to me.

That Triplicate, is based on a story on Twitter yesterday, when it was REPORTED that a sheriff at a bar event tripped. fell, was shot by his own people when he stood BACH-UP to leave.

I suspect a cannon is in order, three part Harmony Central (Hillary Clinton is one of the endorsers) could happen, Row, Row, Roe Motors Your Boat... for the abortion card to play into the Fractal Chamber Music event, in Dolby 5.1 Surround (could have a Colorado Raytheon Component, if so, 50.000 watts of Dolby 5.1, private theater, with proper licensing, all approved and official) and the signature is Orange.

What could go wrong?

There are three stamps of Best of 2020 approval on there.

Looks like they have a Mac 10, and Melania is also on in the band.

Please send help to Oregon.

Please send US Military.

Please send some medical services.

Bring your own hospital.

12:04 am, 12-20-2020. Sunday Morning.

There are two airplanes showing in the orders from VKA, sort of fogged out, but are there, hidden in stuff you can’t see or explain on Tumblr.

[verdiprati]

Upcoming performances by Dame Sarah Connolly

[NOTE: this post is now out of date. Check the schedule tag on my blog for the most recent version of this list.]

After the jump: an unofficial schedule of Dame Sarah Connolly’s future performances. Those of you in Britain may catch a performance in London, Nottingham, or Lewes. Those on the Continent may see her in Vienna, Brussels, Barcelona, or Rotterdam. Plus, Dame Sarah’s agency has mentioned future performances in Paris, Madrid, and New York, though no details are available yet. Don’t live near one of these places? Take in a concert from afar: I am adding online broadcast and livestream details as they become available.

This is not an authoritative list. These are the upcoming performances by Dame Sarah Connolly that I have been able to learn about from Dame Sarah's website (not currently being updated), her agent's website (Askonas Holt), Operabase, Bachtrack, Dame Sarah's Twitter, and generally ferreting around the web.

Some of these listings are not yet officially confirmed; you should of course check official sources before making plans and be aware that cast changes and cancellations can happen at any time.

I have added links to venue, ticketing, and broadcast information where available. Tips on new information are always welcome! Please contact me via email (verdiprati [at] selveamene [dot] com), Tumblr messaging, or ask box (plain prose only in the ask box; anything with links or an email address will get eaten by Tumblr filters) with corrections or additions.

[Deferred broadcast] Dame Sarah’s recital at Spivey Hall in March 2017 was recorded for deferred broadcast. I have found a schedule for the program “Spivey Soiree” indicating that Dame Sarah’s recital will be broadcast on October 31, 2017, at 10:05 p.m. local time on WABE in Atlanta. The document is not deep-linkable but you might be able to find it by going to the Audio-Video Club of Atlanta website and clicking on the button for “Spivey Soiree.” 

Wagner, Tristan und Isolde (Brangäne) at the Gran Teatre del Liceu, Barcelona, November 28 and December 2, 4, 7, 10, 12, and 15, 2017. With Stefan Vinke (Tristan), Iréne Theorin (Isolde), Albert Dohmen (Marke), Greer Grimsley (Kurwenal), et al., in a production directed by Àlex Ollé and previously seen in Lyon. Musical direction by Josep Pons. Note: within 24 hours before this writing, the Catalan parliament voted to declare independence from Spain and the Spanish parliament voted for the Spanish government to take control of Catalunya. It remains to be seen whether the political upheaval in the region will result in the disruption of activities at the Liceu, either directly through the shutdown of the theater (it is a public institution) or indirectly, such as if violence or instability in the region were to drive the international cast of Tristan to leave Barcelona.

[New! Broadcast] Tristan und Isolde is scheduled for (presumably live) radio broadcast on December 7. The broadcast is listed in this PDF schedule from the radio station and on the Liceu website; go to the main Catalunya Música website to hear the broadcast when it comes up (and if you have trouble hearing the audio stream, try a different web browser). I do not know yet whether the opera will be available on demand after broadcast.

Handel, Ariodante (title role) at the Wiener Staatsoper, February 24 and 26 and March 1, 4, and 8, 2018. With Chen Reiss (Ginevra), Hila Fahima (Dalinda), Christphe Dumaux (Polinesso), Rainer Trost (Lurcanio), and Wilhelm Schwinghammer (Il Re di Scozia). In a new production directed by David McVicar with music is supplied by Les Arts Florissants conducted by William Christie. Note: although Christie, LAF, and many of the soloists from this Ariodante will be performing the opera in a concert tour following its staging in Vienna, Dame Sarah is not scheduled to join them; Kate Lindsey has been announced to take over the title role for the tour.

[Livestream] The opera is scheduled for video livestreaming on Sunday, March 4. There is a fee of €14 to watch the livestream.

Mahler, Symphony No. 8 “Symphony of a Thousand” at de Doelen, Rotterdam, March 23 and 25, 2018. With the Rotterdam Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Yannick Nézet-Séguin. The other soloists are Angela Meade, Erin Wall, Erin Morley, Mihoko Fujimura, Michael Schade, Markus Werba, and Christof Fischesser. On choral duty are the Groot Omroep Koor, Rotterdam Symphony Chorus, Orfeon Donostiarra, and Nationaal Kinderkoor. Tickets go on sale May 15.

Mahler, Symphony No. 8 “Symphony of a Thousand” at BOZAR Centre for Fine Arts, Brussels, March 24, 2018. With the Rotterdam Philharmonic Orchestra; same details as the Rotterdam performances listed above. Broadcast possibility: this concert is part of the 2018 Klarafestival sponsored by the Klara radio station, so it seems like a good candidate for broadcast.

[Masterclasses] Teaching duties for the Britten-Pears Young Artist Programme at Snape Maltings in Aldeburgh, England, March 23-April 1, 2018. A course on Handel’s Theodora to be co-taught with conductor Christian Curnyn. Although this doesn’t really count as a performance by Sarah Connolly, I am adding it to my “unofficial schedule” of her work with the thought that fans who live in the area might want to attend some of the public masterclasses Sarah Connolly will be teaching or the culminating performance by young artists she will have coached. (Note that the first weekend of this program clashes with the Mahler 8 concerts in Rotterdam and Brussels, above; it is possible the students will start out working with Christian Curnyn and will pick up with Sarah Connolly a few days into the program.)

[New!] Verdi, Requiem at the Royal Concert Hall in Nottingham, April 28, 2018. With Elizabeth Llewellyn, Gywn Hughes Jones, Wojtek Gierlach, and the London Philharmonic Orchestra. The chorus will be supplied by Nottingham Trent University, where Dame Sarah was awarded an honorary doctorate of music in July of 2017. (Booking info at the link above; news of the concert first surfaced in this announcement from NTU.)

Handel, Giulio Cesare (title role) at Glyndebourne, June 10 through July 28, 2018. In a revival of the legendary 2005 production by David McVicar, with the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment conducted by William Christie. With Joélle Harvey as Cleopatra, plus Christophe Dumaux and Patricia Bardon reprising the roles of Tolomeo and Cornelia respectively; also starring Anna Stéphany (Sesto), John Moore (Achilla), and Kangmin Justin Kim (Nireno).

Wagner, Das Rheingold and Die Walküre (Fricka in both) at the Royal Opera, London, September 24 through October 28, 2018. A revival of Keith Warner’s Ring Cycle, with Antonio Pappano conducting. For cast and date details, see the ROH web pages linked above.

[Details TBA] Future appearances at the Metropolitan Opera in New York, the Opéra national de Paris, and the Teatro Réal in Madrid are mentioned in the current bio that can be downloaded from Dame Sarah’s page on the Askonas Holt website (click “Publicity Pack”). Dame Sarah herself has made mention of a Philadelphia recital on Twitter, though she says it is “not for a while yet” and it is apparent that she is not at liberty to give any details yet.

Previous versions of this list can be found under the schedule tag on this blog. This version published on October 28, 2017. Edited October 30 to add the Philadelphia recital (details TBA). Edited November 6 to add a link to booking info for the Verdi Requiem in Nottingham. Edited November 10 to add the Liceu Tristan broadcast. I may continue editing this list if I receive more information.

#sarah connolly #performances #schedule

[robertemeryofficial]

Robert Emery: A day in the life of a musician

I am often asked what it's like to be a musician, and with respect, that's almost as broad as asking what it's like to be a human. I'm pretty confident that a day in the life of Robert Emery will be radically different from Puff Diddly, or Simon Cattle; yet we are all musicians, allegedly. So if the making of music is the only thing that connects us, what is it like to be this musician?

Right now, frustrating. We are taught not to wear our heart on our sleeves but to restrain. We are shown the stiff upper lip, and as someone in the media, we are coerced to give off the image that all is perfect in the world. If you know me, you'll know I like going against the grain, so this article should be no different.

I'm currently in a phase of what I call pre-planning; effectively deciding upon ideas I'd like to push forward to fruition, and then start the real planning on those ideas. And believe me when I say that the only thing more frustrating than pre-planning is parliament trying to deal with the Brexshit situation.

I've had two years of working on Bat out of Hell, producing albums and writing a musical, and in that time I was so busy I didn't have the common sense to think ahead. So the clock strikes, the new year came in, and all the projects I have been working on are complete. A golden opportunity appeared, and I had time and freedom to push my own projects.

I'm an ideas man. I generate ideas every second of every day. This is my mindmap of ideas, I call it ‘The Idea Factory’, and it’s for my work in TV, radio, podcasts, musicals, business opportunities, compositions, education work, charity work, albums, and concerts. And these are the things that never, ever get started when I'm paid to do another job; making a living from someone else's financial risk always takes precedence.

So why frustration?

Well, have you ever been in twenty meetings knowing only one may lead somewhere?

Have you ever been told 'we love this idea and will absolutely be in touch', only to never receive that call?

Are you your own boss, and therefore have to motivate yourself every morning to get your lazy bottom out of bed, to your desk and start the battle of making those phone calls you've been dreading?

I'm sure you have all experienced some of these elements at one time, so I'm not anything special here. It doesn't make it any easier though.

Some musicians practice for four hours a day. Mrs E would like to do that if she had the luxury. I, however, find practising one of the most boring things known to man; that's one of the reasons I could never be a concert pianist. I'm a very impatient person, and I don't want to practice doing, I want to DO. So this musician doesn't practice unless necessary.

When on the road, I can easily spend 24-30 hours a week travelling. This is the perfect time to catch up on the gift that keeps giving - emails. Sarcasm aside, I have never had life without email, but I can't help thinking without these dreaded things we would have more time to work.

And when I have to go out to work, the day of a gig falls typically into five sections:

Travelling to location - about as exciting as learning geometry in school

Rehearsal - usually a three-hour session in the afternoon. This is where the fun starts, and as long as the leading artist or guests are happy and not stressed, things usually go well.

The Inbetweeners - the time between the rehearsal and gig. If you've ever seen the TV show 'The Inbetweeners', this little space of time can be a bit like the famous comedy series; unpredictable, funny, stressy, and generally trying to keep everyone calm while the excited teenage boy inside me comes alive.

The gig - the best bit of the day. Making music in front of an appreciative audience; what more is there to say.

Travelling home - even less appealing than learning the periodic table.

If I am conducting an orchestra without a soloist, life is, honestly, easier. It's just the musicians and me. The musicians in the orchestra are paid to do what they are told; if they are given the Messiah, the little baby Jesus will be happy as it's the Messiah he will hear. No argument. If there is a soloist, the control shifts and the soloist usually has the final say, especially (and rightly so) if it's their name above the door. If they change their mind about a piece of music and want to swap, I will always try and find a way to do this. Hence life with a soloist is often more challenging; which is the reason you should never marry one.

Talking about soloists, singers are the worst to deal with. If you are cellist Sheku Kanneh-Mason, as long as you remember to bring that large wooden instrument to the gig, there is little unpredictability. Likewise, James Galway can pop his little disassembled flute into his backpack, and providing it's not stolen en route, there is little that can go wrong. Singers, on the other hand, have a distinct disadvantage that their instrument is human; and we all know how unreliable humans can be. So it's not their fault they are the worst to deal with, and to be clear it has nothing to do with the possibility of a diva element - because all musicians have a little diva inside them - but if your soloist happens to have a sore throat, life gets interesting pretty quickly!

The poet William Cowper said 'variety is the spice of life', in which case my life is akin to a Vindaloo. Music isn't really my business. Communication is. When I'm writing music, I want to communicate my love, fear or happiness. When I'm performing music, I want to feel the love, fear or happiness in the hope I pass that emotion to the listener. Sometimes, I want to talk about music; radio and TV presenting, podcast, this blog, interviews, they are all communication of equal importance to me, and all keep my day sufficiently interesting that I don't stagnate like the brand 'classical music' has over the past thirty years.

Since I started in this game, I've never had time to twiddle my thumbs and wonder when the phone will ring next. Is that luck or to do with talent? Neither. It's business.

You can look anywhere on TV, and from Phillip Schofield through to Gareth Malone, Carol Vorderman to Piers Morgan, they all have one thing in common; they are a business. A product. We all, to some extent, have a team behind us steering the ship. Agents, Artistic Managers, Business Managers, Social Media Managers, Publicists, Stylists, Strategists, Publishers, etc. These people don't just work for the love of life; it's their way to buy the Heinz Baked-Beans, and not the essentials own brand; which means the 'Talent' needs to earn a shed load to be able to keep the entourage happy and working successfully. This, in turn, generates more business for the Talent, which means the entourage gets paid more. This perpetual system continues until the public or producers don't like the talent, the talent retires, or excerpts from the Messiah are sung in commemoration.

The entertainment industry is run, like life, by the Pareto principle. This 80/20 rule (if you don't know it, please find out about it) means that 80% of the effects come from 20% of the causes. So I'll keep having meetings, happy in the knowledge that only one-fifth of my time is helping this musician, and the other four-fifths I shall leave my entourage to Handel.

Finally, business is a fickle thing, and as I started with frustration, I'll end with it too. Without this emotion, I would be numb to the fact that I make good money out of my passion, that I get to meet the most incredible people, and that my vocation is one of the few constants in life - that the humans love of music from birth to death. So perhaps the odd dose of frustration is a bit like the essentials own brand Baked-Beans; nasty, but nevertheless, at times essential.

BookS & Podcast recommendations discussing working in the music business

The Bulletproof Musician - an excellent blog and resource useful for all musicians. Fantastic advise that will help any aspiring or professional muso to learn how performance psychology can help you play your best when it counts.

The Musician's Way: A Guide to Practice, Performance, and Wellness - Veteran performer and educator Gerald Klickstein combines the latest research with his 30 years of professional experience to provide aspiring musicians with a roadmap to artistic excellence.

The Alexander Technique for Musicians - This is a unique guide for all musicians, providing a practical, informative approach to being a successful and comfortable performer.

The 80/20 Principle: The Secret of Achieving More with Less - Twenty years after its first publication, this book is a global bestseller read by millions of highly effective people around the world; plus recommended by Tim Ferriss.

Mind Map Mastery: The Complete Guide to Learning and Using the Most Powerful Thinking - Tony Buzan invented the Mind Map technique five decades ago. Seeing the transformational impact it had on people, he has been spreading the thinking tool across the world ever since.

Related & Recommended Posts

#Backstage #Conducting #Pareto Principle #Simon Rattle #Messiah #Sheku Kanneh-Mason #James Galway #Bat out of Hell

[dancewithmeplano]

Dance to the Music of Time

There’s been a lot going on. Leaving the Bad Plus is the largest shift, but various other kind of career and conceptual themes also have been undergoing transformation. I also just turned 45, ” which could be believed midpoint of this journey.

It really all does seem curved. Themes re-occur. The last month nearly felt like a trip of yesteryear.

—

Sarah and I visited Daniel Pinkwater. There is a meme inquiring, “What four pictures are you?” I really don’t have four pictures, but I really do have the collected works of Daniel Pinkwater. Alan Mendelsohn, Boy From Mars; The Snarkout Boys and the Avocado of Death; Lizard Music — these 3 novels “are me”

Sarah stated, let’s give Pinkwater a monster. That monster charge me a small fortune in Tokyo, but she had been right. It had been the great present, a perfect trade.

On the drive we listened to Pinkwater music books in the car. Amazing! I only learned that Mr. Pinkwater himself reads his own books and you can purchase them on iTunes. They are now an essential part of my travel catalog.

—

Rufus Reid turned in the Pat Zimmerli Clockworks concert at Merkin Hall. Rufus is a consecrated jazz bassist, but for me he had been also an important teacher. One afternoon at Banff in 1990, students and faculty were sitting around the coffee shop and Miles Davis’s “Bye Bye Blackbird” came on as background music. Rufus Reid staged together with Coltrane’s solo note for note. I had been impressed and impressed. To understand to perform, was I really going to have to sing Coltrane solos also? That seemed hard — too difficult! It took me decades and some further strict instruction from Lee Konitz, however, in the long run I decided that Reid was perfect. I can not sing any Coltrane yet, but I can sing a lot of Lester Young and Charlie Parker.

Photo by Vinnie Sperrazza

Seeing Reid brought back that memory and from this time next year I guarantee to have the ability to sing Coltrane’s “Bye Bye Blackbird” and “All of You” from ‘Round About Midnight.

—

I added ” You” to the heap because Billy Hart told me:

The first time I fell in love with John Coltrane was that his solo on ” You” from Miles’ ‘Round Midnight. I have talked to Gary Bartz about this, and he felt exactly the same way–which this solo made us Coltrane fans, forever.

Billy Hart is my most important teacher and we have worked together for over twenty decades. However, I hadn’t ever played with Buster Williams and Billy Hart collectively, despite Buster and Billy being universally considered one of the wonderful bass/drum mixes.

It finally occurred on Tuesday, quartet together with Billy Harper. Everybody agreed that it was incredible to listen to the beat played with that bassist with that drummer.

Billy Hart, Lenny White, Buster Williams

Lenny White was there. He plays with Buster all the time — they have become a traditional contemporary rhythm section — but I think he wished to find a flavor of that other thing Mchezaji has with Jabali. In the dressing room I had been as silent as possible while I listened to them tell stories.

Billy Hart talked about studying Afro Cuban songs from Lenny White! They were playing with Pharoah Sanders. Neither was playing with drum group, they were on cowbells and claves. Afterwards Billy whined to Lenny about how Lenny appeared so much better and Lenny said that he was actually checking out authentic Afro Cuban songs. This anecdote describes in a flash Lenny White was able to walk into and power a lot of the best fusion recordings: The deep background for its “new” method of dealing with the eighth circa 1970 was African American procedures from tens of thousands of years back. Of course.

—

Patrick Zimmerli’s Clockworks  together with Chris Tordini, John Hollenbeck, and me personally is out, and so is — finally — Shores Against Silence, the recording with Kevin Hays, Larry Grenadier, and Tom Rainey from 1991. I had been at that recording session, and discovered “The Paw” for the very first time in the studio. Pat provides me a particular mention in the liner notes to Shores Against Silence, which I think is only fair, as I’ve been telling people that this is an amazing album since…well I figure since 1991.

Vinnie Sperrazza is getting to be a major new collaborator. At the Clockworks position that he appeared in the score and stated, “I can hear Pat had been an effect on you” Without a doubt — Pat will always be a monument in my own entire life, which is elaborated further in our interview.

Vinnie took the photograph of me and Rufus Reid collectively afterwards telling me of a period he played with James Williams and Rufus Reid in Knickerbocker’s. Yeah, Vinnie’s my type of cat, with a swinging cymbal beat that undulates inside the music. We’re working collectively in Pepperland, the extravagant revue created by Mark Morris for the Mark Morris Dance Group.

—

It is just wonderful to be back together with Mark Morris back again. For five years that I had been his musical manager. I watched the dance shows every night, then following the series went to Mark’s hotel room and listened to Handel and Partch. Lorraine Hunt Lieberson would attend rehearsal; I played with Schumann with Yo-Yo Ma. It had been around me to attract conductors in line about tempi and singers around diction.

Pepperland is the Beatles as viewed though the prism of classical music and it really works. It’s been really amazing to expose Vinnie and other buddies Jacob Garchik, Sam Newsome, and Rob Schwimmer to the magic of Morris. In addition, it is just incredible to leave the Bad Plus and also be instantly involved in another hit project.

—

Concerto to Scale reflects Morris, Zimmerli, Jabali, and everything else that I love. It surely reflects Pinkwater. Program notes:

My very first piece for orchestra is blatantly modest in measurement, or “to scale” While composing, I re-read a number of my favourite books from when I was a young adult and tried to catch that kind of joyful emotion. The work is devoted to John Bloomfield.

Allegro. Sonata form in C major with tons of scales. My left hand and the bass drum soloist are the rhythm section offering syncopations in conversation with the orchestra’s standard chain material.

Andante. A 19th-centutry nocturne air meets modern polyrhythms. That is a stunning elaboration of a piece originally written for Mark Turner called “We Come In the Future.”

Rondo. The rate mark is, “Misfit Rag.” Ragtime is how American composers traditionally insert a touch of jazz on the concert stage, and who am I to disagree? The orchestra gets a chance to improvise along with the pianist and percussionist enjoy a double cadenza.

I didn’t really have to re-read Pinkwater for the Concerto — I have these publications memorized — but that I did examine The Toothpaste Millionaire from Jean Merrill (1972) and Alvin’s Secret Code by Clifford B. Hicks (1963). These two are undisputed classics and remain in print. Interestingly, both will also be on race relations, a simple fact I had completely forgotten. They are white writers referring to the midwest in the 1960s, therefore perhaps not every authorial decision will beyond muster now, but they had been in there, trying to swing. They had been about my two favourite novels when I was ten or eleven. I had good taste!

The review by Seth Colter Walls was satisfying (Amanda Ameer said I look just like  Schroeder in the picture, which is ideal) and I have been astonished just how much I enjoy listening to the cassette.

(if you would like to listen to the rough mix of this premiere or examine the score, sign up for Floyd Camembert Reports.)

Between Pepperland and the Concerto, it’s beginning to feel as though my future will involve extended composition.

—

Composition might be part of this future, but additionally, I will always be a jazz pianist who enjoys to play with clubs. Starting tomorrow I am on an extensive UK tour together with Martin Speake.

20/4 Sheffield Jazz Crookes Social Club http://www.sheffieldjazz.org.uk/ 21/4 Brighton Verdict https://verdictjazz.co.uk/ 22/4 Colchester Arts Centre https://www.colchesterartscentre.com/ 23 Cheltenham Jazz http://www.cheltenhamjazz.co.uk/ 24/4 London Pizza Express https://www.pizzaexpresslive.com/venues/soho-jazz-club 25/4London Pizza Express https://www.pizzaexpresslive.com/venues/soho-jazz-club 26/4 St George’s Bristol https://www.stgeorgesbristol.co.uk/ 27/4 Reading Progress Theatre http://www.jazzinreading.com/ 29/4 Cinnamon Club Manchester http://www.thecinnamonclub.net/ 1/5 Hastings http://jazzhastings.co.uk/ 3/5 Cambridge https://www.cambridgejazz.org/index.php?name=home 4/5 Poole Lighthouse https://www.lighthousepoole.co.uk/

Go to Martin’s FB site to get more.

Martin and I go back to Banff in 1990. It was a hell of a lineup there: Faculty included Rufus Reid, Marvin Smitty Smith, Stanley Cowell, Kevin Eubanks, Kenny Wheeler. Abraham Adzenyah taught dance from Ghana — I suppose the very first time I danced with a woman was in that course. (Currently this post is becoming overly personal.) Steve Coleman was the artistic manager.

The students were also amazing. Tony Malaby, Seamus Blake, Ralph Alessi, George Colligan, John Stetch, Andy Milne — Jeez, I know I am forgetting some others that are now renowned…

Particularly important to my artistic growth were Benoît Delbecq and Steve Argüelles, that went on for a real force collectively and big influence. With Noël Akchoté they turned into The Recyclers and released Rhymes in 1994. You want to understand something that I checked out? Rhymes was some thing that I checked out, especially the monitor “Suguxhama” from  Argüelles and Django Bates.

(Later, motivated by David King and Craig Taborn, I’d listen to all the fantabulous Django Bates records together with Martin France on drums. It turns out that France is going to be on several gigs of this Martin Speake tour. Wow! I’m going to have to play with Martin France for the very first time.)

At Banff 2 duo connections had notable resonance. The fantastic Jill Seifers (a wonderful vocalist who ended up dying far too young) and that I did a set in the little Banff club which I listened to repeatedly. Along with Martin Speake and that I created a recording which was enormous fun, he is splendid lyrical participant that sees it from all the angles.

At the Vortex gig earlier this year, Martin told the audience that after we met with Banff, I delivered him (by post from Menomonie, Wisconsin to London, England) a tape of Ornette Coleman’s then-scarce Science Fiction accompanied by a note on Doctor Who stationery. Yes It really does all seem curved. Themes re-occur. I openly admit I can’t wait to get Jodie Whittaker.

—

Writer with George Colligan.

Writer with Benoît Delbecq.

Writer with Django Bates.

Stanley Cowell plays “Carolina Shout” in my James P. Johnson event.

The post <p>Dance to the Music of Time</p> appeared first on dance withme plano.

from dance withme plano http://www.dancewithmeplano.com/dance-to-the-music-of-time/

[thesimplyluxuriouslife]

197: The Many Benefits of Listening to Classical Music

~The Simple Sophisticate, episode #197

~Subscribe to The Simple Sophisticate: iTunes | Stitcher | iHeartRadio | YouTube

As a young girl I took piano lessons, and I will admit, it was not the greatest joy of my life. A timer would have to be set for me to sit down for even 30 minutes to practice, and even then I would get up from time to time to check and see how much more time I had to play. So, no, I was not someone who found joy in playing; however, when my mom would sit down and play and let the notes ring melodically throughout our home, I thoroughly enjoyed listening. We still have that piano, and from time to time I will get the opportunity to hear her play and watch her fingers dance across the keys. There is a tranquility that is shared when such harmonious tunes without lyrics are played. To my ear, it is quite peaceful. Perhaps that is why as well, I am drawn to jazz, as I do prefer music without lyrics when I am working, relaxing and simply going about my day. I enjoy bringing my story to the notes, rather than hearing someone else's. Perhaps that is a lack of imagination on my part, but when there are no words, the rhythm is mine to dance with and let my mind wander. Having always loved jazz since I was a teenager, I have since begun to welcome more classical music into my life and regularly beginning this past fall as I shared in this post (episode #187). Many of my students over the years have been actively involved in the symphony and orchestra, and successfully so, so I do find myself learning from them as I am by no means savvy when it comes to music.

1. Reduce stress

If you find listening to classical music relaxing, then it can reduce your stress levels. Upon listening to classical music, your body releases "pleasure-inducing dopamine and inhibits the release of stress hormones, all of which generates a pleasant mood". Now, the key is to understand what you find relaxing, make it a regular practice and observe your body and mind relax which will then enable you to think more clearly and thus make better decisions.

2. Increase your ability to think abstractly

The Mozart Effect, as it was coined in 1993, was discovered by Dr. Gordon Shaw of the University of California-Irvine to cause a temporary spike in an individual's IQ after listening to Mozart. While the findings need to be clarified: no, listening to Mozart doesn't make you smarter, but it does, Shaw states, "warms up the brain's ability to think abstractly".

3. Heighten EQ (emotional intelligence)

In 2001 Southern Methodist University shared their findings of their study revealing participants were more "expressive and effusive with their comments, [and] . . . more forthcoming as well." Perhaps when we choose to listen to classical music as we relax, our walls come down a bit more, we are more willing to be vulnerable and less quick to react.

4. Increase focus

A study done in France published in Learning and Individual Differences revealed that students who listened to a one hour lecture with classical music playing in the background scored better on the corresponding quiz than those who did not listen to music. Why? The researchers proposed that "the music put students in a heightened emotional state, making
 them more receptive to information . . . It is possible that music, provoking a change in the learning
 environment, influenced the students’ motivation to remain focused during the lecture, which led to 
better performance on the multiple-choice quiz”.

5. Fall asleep more quickly

The University of Toronto discovered that when classical music is played when you settle into bed, participants in the study were able to fall asleep more quickly and stay asleep longer. Why? The study found that the music by Bach, Brahms, Handel, Mozart,  and Strauss offered "rhythms and tonal patterns that create a meditative mood 
and slow brainwaves". The inclusion of listening to classical music in my everyday routine has become a form of simple self-care. Having a sound mind to navigate successfully through the day is an invaluable tool, but it is one that can easily deteriorate if we do not tend to it. Many readers shared their favorite classical radio station (many of which have free apps available), and I have listed them below. An unexpected benefit I am finding is listening to the hosts of each of the programs whether I am listening to KUSC.org or WRTI.org as they speak about each song, often share the history and other intriguing information. I may never pick up a flute, a violin or an obo, but I certainly am finding I appreciate even more those who do and those who have written the music creations. Classical music stations:

KUSC (southern California)

WRTI (Philadelphia - classical music and jazz)

KMFA (Austin, TX)

Radio Classique (French station)

ClassicFM (London)

I have compiled a Luxurious Classical Music playlist on Spotify (of which there are many others to find as well) that plays for one hour and 16 minutes and includes some of my favorites as well as new music I am ever so gradually being introduced to. View the playlist here.

Petit Plaisir:

~Mozart in the Jungle, season 4

https://youtu.be/wiNDPi3mP6A  

Sponsors of this week’s episode:

Casper Mattress

Promo code: SS

$50 toward your purchase

Shaker & Spoon Cocktail Subscription Club

Promo code: simple

Save $20 on your first month

    Image: Katowice concert hall, Poland

Sources of research: LiveStrong, USC News, WQXR.org

Tune in to the latest episode of The Simple Sophisticate podcast

#tsllpodcast thesimplesophisticate

[oselatra]

Boys club bust-up

Six musicians talk business, banjos, barriers.

We caught up with six Little Rock musicians to talk about their projects and to talk candidly about the barriers they've encountered as women making music in Central Arkansas. Below, you'll read observations from Tracey Gregory, bass player for the heavy rock band Tempus Terra; Barbara Raney, longtime vocalist with The Greasy Greens and "Beaker Street" radio staple; velvet-voiced songwriter and guitarist Jamie Lou Connolly; Katrice "Butterfly" Newbill, a Hurricane Katrina transplant and a dynamite contralto reggae/soul performer; Cindy Woolf, vocalist and banjoist for The Creek Rocks and The Wildflower Revue; and Tatiana Roitman, concert pianist and mastermind behind the New Deal Salon performance series.

What obstacles have you come across trying to make music and art in Central Arkansas?

Jamie Lou Connolly: It seems like the obstacles I had when I started playing and booking have, luckily, changed in the last two years. I would usually have to have other men book for me or get me in the door to venues or lineups. I'm not sure if it's because of our social climate changing and becoming more empowering for women or if it just took that long to prove myself. The biggest obstacle, though, is that I am a working mother. I constantly feel guilty for pursuing a professional music career, which involves a lot of time and touring to be successful. It's not just Arkansas; it's the whole music business that says it's OK to be a father and on the road, but not a mother.

Cindy Woolf: I can't really think of any obstacles specific to making music in Central Arkansas. ... I'm pretty much in love with the place, and I feel very welcome here. I can, however, relate a few obstacles that I am often faced with in general, trying to make music as a woman. A lot of times when we play at a new venue my banjo will end up way low in the mix, as if it were not essential to the music. This can be a big problem for The Creek Rocks since lots of our songs are driven by the melodies that I play. I often have to prove that my banjo is more than a prop by pulling out a Doug Dillard tune or something at the top of the set, to send the message: "Yes, I am a musician and not just a piece of stage decoration." We also run into men who are uncomfortable doing business with me, and choose to communicate with my husband instead, although I handle most of the booking and road managing. It creates a pretty comical scene when some old dude keeps addressing questions to Mark, even though I'm standing right there and am clearly the one on top of the details.

Tatiana Roitman: I have been very fortunate to find like-minded collaborators in Lee [Weber] and John [Hardy], the owners of the New Deal Studios and Gallery. They respect my expertise and my unique cultural background and view these as an asset to their enterprise. In turn, I admire John's and Lee's vision for their endeavor and want to do everything I can to help them realize it.

In today's climate of divisiveness, in order for the arts and the artists to survive and hopefully thrive, I feel it's absolutely necessary for the communities everywhere, including in Arkansas, not to be afraid of "the other" — of a different skin color, dress or an accent and tone of voice. As artists we are inherently different; we come from a great variety of backgrounds and see and hear the world in unique ways, which in turn make us stand out from the crowd and from the rest of the world.

It is easy to understand the tendencies of people in small, close-knit communities to stay together, to protect their ways and to reject everything that is foreign or different. I just hope that sometimes when we see a stranger, we can overcome our fears, and are reminded that at one point we were all "strangers in a strange land." Perhaps maybe, just maybe, if we opened our doors and our eyes, we might see our commonality, someone simply looking to make a home, to make a difference and to share their gifts with us.

Tracey Gregory: I would have to say the biggest obstacle I've had to face as a female musician would be finding the right people to collaborate with. Building a band isn't just about one's musical abilities, but also finding people you get along with. Everyone has to pull their own weight while contributing and having the same aspirations. It takes grit to write and perform music; I'm lucky I found some great guys to play with.

Barbara Raney: At first I thought I didn't have anything to contribute to this subject. Then, at The [Greasy] Greens Reunion concert, I was reminded of a time when we put together a small band with me as vocalist and auditioned to be the house band at a well-known country music club. It was good pay, and a steady gig, and a lot of bands were interested. We got the gig, but when our representative went out to seal the deal, he was informed that they thought we were great, but that the owner's wife didn't want a band with a girl singer playing there. I had completely forgotten about that. The truth is, the biggest obstacles I have encountered in my musical journey have been those of my own making; lack of confidence, lack of music business knowledge and lack of initiative.

Katrice Newbill: Let's bring music back to our parks, festivals and also have budgets to pay artists what they're worth. I'd like to send a shout out to [Sticky Fingerz co-owner] Chris King for giving me a regular platform. Singing is therapy for me, music is love and it's a beautiful thing when it comes together, but the business must be handled correctly, with good business practices and ethics and done with a spirit of excellence. I grew up in New Orleans and the reason it's such a vibrant place is because of the culture and the music. I believe Little Rock has the same potential to thrive.

What musical project are you working on right now?

Katrice Newbill: I haven't recorded since the devastation of Hurricane Katrina, when I relocated to Little Rock to start my journey and life over, and it's long overdue. I am currently writing, preparing to record and have some awesome artists I have worked with and looking forward to incorporating them on my project. I will also be working on a project that involves youth and the arts providing a platform, venues and really giving our young people not only culture, but something positive, creative with a favorable outcome and opportunity. ... In the meantime, I'll continue to spread love and if you'd like to see what I do, me and my band will be at Cajun's Wharf at 9 p.m. Thursday, Nov. 30.

Tracey Gregory: Currently, our band Tempus Terra is working on finishing our [debut] album. We plan to record and have it out by early 2018.

Jamie Lou Connolly: Our band released "Femi-Socialite" in April 2017 with Blue Chair Studio. We are still promoting that record and plan to release a music video for [title track] "Femi-Socialite" before the year ends, and we are writing material for a full-length album to be released in the fall of 2018.

Barbara Raney: As far as my current projects go, I am seeking gigs with my ukulele and am rehearsing with the Arkansas Choral Society for our upcoming performance of Handel's "Messiah." The concert will be our 87th annual presentation, Friday, Dec. 1, 6:30 p.m. at Calvary Baptist Church, 5700 Cantrell Road.

Tatiana Roitman: The New Deal Salon is a concert series that takes place at the New Deal Studios and Galleries, owned by Lee Weber and John Hardy, conceived as a "salon" — classical music performance in an intimate setting, combined with an art exhibit and accompanied by good wine and hors d'oeuvres. As its artistic director, I hope to increase the knowledge of the participants through conversation and "either to please or to educate." The series has become a favorite with the SOMA residents and Little Rock music fans of all ages. Just this past season, our eclectic programming, featuring instrumentalists and singers, included works by Witold Lutoslawski, Peter Schickele, Bela Bartok, John Williams, as well as Franz Schubert, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and Johannes Brahms. Our long-term goal is for the New Deal Salon to become a nonprofit that can provide unique educational opportunities for those forgotten by the society.

Cindy Woolf: My main project is The Creek Rocks, a folk music band led by the duo of my husband, Mark Bilyeu, and myself. Our debut CD is called "Wolf Hunter." The title is an amalgam of the names of the two folklorists whose collections provided the raw materials for the songs on the album: John Quincy Wolf of Batesville, where I spent my formative years, and Max Hunter of Springfield, Mo., Mark's hometown. We've been running around playing these traditional Ozarks songs for the past two years, and it has been a lot of fun. We have decided to continue with this theme for at least one more record, and are currently going through the Mary Celestia Parler Collection, which lives at the University of Arkansas. We hope to begin recording "Pretty Parler Songs" by the end of the year.

We've been driving around in our truck with our two beagles, Paw Paw and Persimmon. Our radio doesn't work, so we've been writing songs about our dogs while we travel. We have about 15 pretty good ones now, so we are just about ready to record our first kids' album. Beagle songs for kids!

I also play with The Wildflower Revue with fellow sister singer-songwriters Amy Garland Angel and Mandy McBryde. I'm honored to be a part of it and I absolutely love singing with them. There is a lot of love and respect among everyone involved, in no small part because they are really fantastic people making really fantastic music. The sky's the limit for this group.

Boys club bust-up

#Boys club bust-up

[gillianwormley]

Sue Lewey: My Singing Journey

Early Starter – Late Finisher!

My earliest musical memory is singing with my grandmother while she played the piano at her tea parties. She brought me wonderful party dresses for these occasions. I am not sure whether they were incentives or rewards! My favourite was made of navy blue taffeta.  I cannot remember what I sang, but in my adult life, I have often found, to my surprise, that I knew the words to Edwardian parlour songs! 

Another early musical influence was my Uncle Charles who was a tuba player in the BBC Symphony Orchestra and professor of music at Kneller Hall school of military music. I would beg him to play his tuba which he always did willingly. The family went to wonderful concerts when he was playing, and occasionally he took me to rehearsals, where I was absolutely entranced by the whole musical sound. 

My early school days were ones of a gentle music education. I took piano, ballet, and tap classes. I don't think I excelled at any of them and they slowly stopped as I grew older. I do remember loving the ballet clothes! ( there is a theme developing!). At Grammar school, I received a broad musical education including choral and solo singing, piano, and music theory. I dabbled with percussion and conducting, page-turning, and music appreciation. This was an amazing education which, only now, I am beginning to appreciate.

I left school full of musical confidence, and in the last months I auditioned for a professional youth choir and was offered a place. What a high point that was, to be dashed so quickly!  My younger brother said,

" Huh, want do they want you for? You can't sing!" 

I never took the place and never sang nor thought about singing for another 28 years!

I am not totally sure what made me return to singing.  I was aware that I had missed many opportunities to sing with wonderful choirs and singers. It had never occurred to me to take advantage of these possibilities. I really thought I could not sing.  

I joined an adult education group of would-be singers of a certain age! It was run by Gillian Wormley and turned out to be a very supportive group. If you wanted to, you could sing solos to the group, but if not, there was no judgment. Fairly quickly I decided to try. A very small voice came out, not one I recognised but it was me and it wasn't bad! The group applauded loudly so I was so spurred on and after a few months, I agreed to sing a solo in a planned concert. A very scary affair, but I had to do it and did do it! 

From this start, I continued singing with the group which evolved and grew into a fine choral ensemble. Gillian helped us shake off our adult education cloak, and we moved on to perform regularly in the local area. 

We also formed a smaller sub-group where I re-learned the joys of singing in harmony as well as continuing to develop my solo voice.  I had a long way to go, in terms of my vocal technique and conquering my nerves.  I started taking private voice lessons with Gillian and I began to grow in both areas. I realised that I had a very good and sympathetic voice teacher, who was giving me a sound base from where I could start to move onwards!

I was lucky enough to be accepted for one of Gillian’s workshops for amateur singers, tutored by her own vocal coach of international renown, David Harper.  

I had been an observer and had participated in a small ensemble in previous workshops, but on one occasion I  had a solo, Handel's Lascia ch'io Pianga. I worked very hard on my music and despite the nerves, I had a wonderful workshop session with David and I went on to sing with some confidence. It was aware a few bars into the solo that there was a certain silence in the room. But I could hear this voice singing this wonderful song, it was not my voice. But it was! The song finished and the silence was broken by applause and a lot of praise. Some people told me they were moved to tears. 

For me this was a major moment.

Things were about to change. 

Jobs and personal circumstances meant that my safe musical world would end. This was a bad time for me. I eventually moved to Spain and, although I searched hard,  vocal opportunities of the quality I was used to, were few and far between. I tried many choirs, Spanish and international, and found them all really lacking. I had been spoilt. 

Eventually, I was auditioned and accepted into an international chamber choir. Despite a mix of temperaments, we did well and gained a reputation for singing sacred music. I still sing with this group. Although it has changed in nature and composition, I still get some satisfaction from singing with this group. In Spain, I have also sung with a large community choir and taken private lessons. As can happen, sometimes things don't work out! 

Over a period of time, I became aware that I was not enjoying my singing and I had to ask myself, why? I answered myself by realising that music and singing are a major part of my life. I need to sing for my own well-being. At 65 years old, I only had a limited time left to sing. I was not going to waste it on music I did not enjoy and I chose to sing only music that inspired me.

Then fate played a hand. Gillian came back into my life. Time and technology had moved on and now it is possible to have lessons and regular contact with Gillian and other singers, both old and new. I have regular “online” and occasional face to face voice lessons with Gillian.  I never thought that online lessons could work, but they do! 

I also joined Virtually Vocalise, and this adds to the whole singing journey. We have regular contact time to talk about singing and a weekly vocal warm up. These things have added to my vocal progress and well-being. 

I can also meet up with these singing friends through the singer's workshop weekends at Dartington Hall. These are marvellous and inspirational weekends, where singers of different levels reach new achievements in just a weekend. 

I have found that, even at my age, I am making amazing progress. I still have a lot to learn!

Gillian and Sue – Sopranos in the sun, Cartagena 2012.

Despite the title of this piece, I am not a “late finisher”, because I haven't finished!  I am amazed at where my singing is now. Sometimes I pinch myself and say, “ did we really have that in-depth conversation about that song, that technique? Is that really me singing?” 

I know that key to my singing success is determination, discipline and hard work on my part. I also think a lot about integrity in singing.

But, I also have a safe environment in which to experiment, a talented and sympathetic teacher, a marvellous support group and lots of laughter!  

Susan Lewey

#singing #vocaljourney #learning #determination #discipline #online teaching #virtually vocalise #mentoring #integrity #success

[samanthasroberts]

Jimi Hendrix: ‘You never told me he was that good’

On the eve of the 40th anniversary of Jimi Hendrix's death, Ed Vulliamy speaks to the people who knew him best and unearths a funny, if intense, superstar

On the morning of 21 September 1966, a Pan Am airliner from New York landed at Heathrow, carrying among its passengers a black American musician from a poor home. Barely known in his own country and a complete stranger to England, he had just flown first class for the first time in his life. His name was James Marshall Hendrix.

On 18 September 1970, four years later, I picked up a copy of Londons Evening Standard on my way home from school, something I never usually did. There was a story of extreme urgency on the front page and a picture of Hendrix playing at a concert still ringing in my ears at the Isle of Wight festival, only 18 days earlier. The text reported how Hendrix had died that morning in a hotel in the street, Lansdowne Crescent in Notting Hill, in which I had been born, and a block away from where I now lived.

During those three years and 362 days living in London, Hendrix had conjured with his vision and sense of sound, his personality and genius the most extraordinary guitar music ever played, the most remarkable sound-scape ever created; of that there is little argument. Opinion varies only over the effect his music has on people: elation, fear, sexual stimulation, sublimation, disgust all or none of these but always drop-jawed amazement.

The 40th anniversary of Hendrixs death next month will be marked by the opening of an exhibition of curios and memorabilia at the only place he ever called home a flat diagonally above that once occupied by the composer George Frideric Handel, on Brook Street in central London, in the double building now known as Handel House. The flat will be opened to the public for 12 days in September and there is talk about plans for a joint museum, adding Hendrixs presence to that already established in the museum devoted to Handel. Involved in the discussions is the woman with whom Hendrix furnished the top flat of 23 Brook St, and with whom he lived: the only woman he ever really loved, Kathy Etchingham.

In a rare interview by telephone, (she has moved abroad), Ms Etchingham explains: I want him to be remembered for what he was not this tragic figure he has been turned into by nit-pickers and people who used to stalk us and collect photographs and evidence of what we were doing on a certain day. He could be grumpy, and he could be terrible in the studio, getting exactly what he wanted but he was fun, he was charming. I want people to remember the man I knew.

When she met Hendrix (the same night he landed in London), he had already lived an interesting, if frustrating, 23 years. He was born to a father who cared, but not greatly, and a mother he barely knew she died when he was 15 but adored (shes said to be the focus of two of his three great ballads, Little Wing and Angel). He had always been enthralled by guitar playing a natural, immersed in R&B on the radio and the music of blues giants Albert King and Muddy Waters. When he was 18, he was offered the chance to avoid jail for a minor misdemeanour by joining the army, which he did, training for the 101st Airborne Division.

His military career was marked by friendship with a bass player called Billy Cox from West Virginia, with whom he would play his last concerts, and a report which read: Individual is unable to conform to military rules and regulations. Misses bed check: sleeps while supposed to be working: unsatisfactory duty performance.

Hendrix engineered his discharge in time to avoid being mobilised to Vietnam and worked hard as a backing guitarist for Little Richard, Curtis Knight, the Isley Brothers and others. But, arriving in New York to try and establish himself in his own right, Hendrix found he did not fit. The writer Paul Gilroy, in his recent book Darker Than Blue, makes the point that Hendrixs life and music were propelled by two important factors: his being an ex-paratrooper who gradually became an advocate of peace and his transgressions of redundant musical and racial rules.

Hendrix didnt fit because he wasnt black enough for Harlem, nor white enough for Greenwich Village. His music was closer to the blues than any other genre; the Delta and Chicago blues which had captivated a generation of musicians, not so much in the US as in London, musicians such as John Mayall and Alexis Korner, and thereafter Eric Clapton, Peter Green, Jeff Beck and Jimmy Page among many others.

As luck would have it, the Brits were in town and Linda Keith, girlfriend of the Stones Keith Richards, persuaded Chas Chandler, bass player of the Animals, to go and listen to Hendrix play at the Cafe Wha? club in the Village. Chandler wanted to move into management and happened to be fixated by a song, Hey Joe, by Tim Rose.

It was a song Chas knew would be a hit if only he could find the right person to play it, says Keith Altham, then of the New Musical Express, who would later become a kind of embedded reporter with the Hendrix London entourage. There he was, this incredible man, playing a wild version of that very song. It was like an epiphany for Chas it was meant to be.

To be honest, remembers Tappy Wright, the Animals roadie who came to Cafe Wha? with Chandler that night, I wasnt too impressed at first, but when he started playing with his teeth, and behind his head, it was obvious that here was someone different.

Before long, Hendrix was aboard the plane to London with Chandler and the Animals manager, Michael Jeffery, to be met by Tony Garland, who would end up being general factotum for Hendrixs management company, Anim. When he arrived, recalls Garland now, sitting on his barge beside the canal in Maida Vale, west London, where he now lives, I filled out the customs form. We couldnt say hed come to work because he didnt have a permit, so I told them he was a famous American star coming to collect his royalties.

It is strange, tracking down Hendrixs inner circle in London. His own musicians in his great band, the Experience Noel Redding and Mitch Mitchell are dead. Likewise, his two managers, Chandler and Jeffery, and one of his closest musician friends, the Rolling Stone Brian Jones; the other, Eric Burdon of the Animals, declined to be interviewed. But some members of the close-knit entourage are still around, such as Kathy Etchingham and Keith Altham, wearing a flaming orange jacket befitting the time of which he agrees to speak, in defiance of a heart attack only a few days before.

Music in London had reached a tumultuously creative moment when Hendrix arrived and was perfectly poised to receive him. The performers were just your mates who played guitars, recalls Altham. It was tight everyone knew everyone else. It was just Pete from the Who, Eric of Cream, or Brian and Mick of the Stones, all going to each others gigs.

For reasons never quite explained, the blues both in their acoustic Delta form, and Chicago blues plugged into an amplifier had captivated this generation of English musicians more deeply than their American counterparts. Elderly blues musicians found themselves, to their amazement, courted for concerts, such as an unforgettable night at Hammersmith with Son House and Bukka White. Champion Jack Dupree married and settled in Yorkshire. People [here] felt a certain affinity with the blues, music which added a bit of colour to grey life, Altham continues. And as Garland points out: White America was listening to Doris Day black American music got nowhere near white AM radio. Jimi was too white for black radio. Here, there were a lot of white guys listening to blues from America and wanting to sound like their heroes.

Things happened at speed after Hendrix landed. Come down to the Scotch, Chas told me the day Jimi arrived and hear what I found in New York, recalls Altham. Jimi couldnt play because he had no work permit, but he jammed that night, and my first impression was that hed make a great jazz musician. That was the night, his first in London, that Hendrix met Kathy Etchingham. It happened straightaway, she recalls. Here was this man: different, funny, coy even about his own playing.

A short while later, recalls Altham, Chas took me to hear him at the Bag ONails club [in Soho] for one of his first proper gigs, turned to me and said, Whatya think? I said Id never heard anything like it in all my life. At a concert in the same series, remembers Garland, Michael Jeffery put an arm round Chas, another round me and said, I think weve cracked it, mate. They had: Kit Lambert, according to Altham, literally scrambled across the tables to Chas at one of the shows and said, in his plummy accent, he had to sign him. Chas needed a record contract, Decca had turned Hendrix down (along with the Beatles) and Lambert was about to launch a new label, Track Records, with interest from Polydor: The deal was done, on the back of a napkin, says Altham.

Hendrix had formed his band at speed: a rhythm guitarist from Kent called Noel Redding who had applied to join the Animals but to whom Hendrix now allocated bass guitar and Mitch Mitchell, a jazz drummer seeking to mould himself in the style of John Coltranes great percussionist, Elvin Jones. With a stroke of genius, Jeffery came up with the only name befitting what was to follow: the Jimi Hendrix Experience. Is there any line in rocknroll more assuredly seductive as: Are you experienced?/ Have you ever been experienced?/ Well, I have (from 1967s Are You Experienced)?

Paul McCartney, John Lennon and the other Beatles quickly converged to hear this phenomenon, along with the Stones and Pete Townshend. Arriving one night at the Bag ONails, Altham met Brian Jones walking back up the stairs with tears in his eyes. I said, Brian, what is it? and he replied, Its what he does, it chokes me only he put it better than that.

There was also curiosity from the emergent powerhouse of British blues: Cream and Eric Clapton. There was a particular night when Cream allowed Jimi to join them for a jam at the Regent Street Polytechnic in central London. Meeting Clapton had been among the enticements Chandler had used to lure Hendrix to Britain: Hendrix blew into a version of [Howlin Wolfs] Killing Floor, recalls Garland, and plays it at breakneck tempo, just like that it stopped you in your tracks. Altham recalls Chandler going backstage after Clapton left in the middle of the song which he had yet to master himself; Clapton was furiously puffing on a cigarette and telling Chas: You never told me he was that fucking good.

With a reputation, a recording contract and the adoration of his peers, Hendrix was allocated a flat belonging to Ringo Starr, in Montagu Square, in which he lived with Etchingham, Chandler and Chandlers Swedish girlfriend, Lotta. It was not ideal, but base camp for an initial tour as opening act for Cat Stevens and Engelbert Humperdinck, with the Walker Brothers topping the bill.

Something was needed, Chandler thought, whereby Hendrix could blow the successive acts off the stage and Altham had the beginning of an idea. He said: Its a pity that you cant set fire to your guitar. There was a pregnant pause in the dressing room, after which Chas said, Go out and get some lighter fuel. Garland remembers: I went out into Seven Sisters Road [in north London] to buy lighter fluid. At first, it didnt make sense to me there were too many things going on to worry about lighter fluid but it all became clear in the end.

Altham borrowed a lighter from Gary the third Walker brother and drummer and that night, at the Astoria theatre in central London, Hendrix set his guitar ablaze for the first time. One of the security guards said, Why are you waving it around your head? recalls Altham. Cause Im trying to put it out, replied Jimi. Actually, he only did it three times after, says Altham, but it became a trademark.

The touring began in earnest during that winter of 1966-7: around working mens clubs and little theatres in the north of England. Thats when I remember him at his very best, recalls Etchingham. And at his happiest. The small clubs in regional venues. When he was desperate to make a name for himself, but was also playing for himself. In the working mens clubs, they just wanted some music to enjoy while they drank their beer. In the small theatres, people had come to hear him. But that was his best music ever played for its own sake. None of these crazy expectations, no one hanging on just the people he knew, liked and trusted, and his own music.

But what was this music, this singular, uplifting, otherworldly, menacing, exotic and erotic sound? Hendrix was a magpie, says Altham. He would take from blues, jazz only Coltrane could play in that way and Dylan was the greatest influence. But hed listen to Mozart, hed read sci-fi and Asimov and it would all go through his head and come out as Jimi Hendrix. Then there was just the dexterity he was left-handed, but I remember people throwing him a right-handed guitar and Hendrix picking it up and playing it upside down.

And dont forget, says Tappy Wright, who acted as roadie at first, then joined the management team, we were using the cheapest guitars. These were no Fenders or Stratocasters. These were Hofners we bought for a few quid. Very basic, but stretched to the fucking limit.

The most precious insight comes from Etchingham. People often saw Jimi on stage looking incredibly intense and serious. And suddenly this smile would come across his face, almost a laugh, for no apparent reason, she says. Well, I remember that very well, sitting on the bed or the floor at home in Brook Street. Sometimes, he would play a riff for hours, until he had it just right. Then this great smile would creep across his face or hed throw his head back and laugh. Those were the moments he had got it right for himself, not for anyone else.

Touring ran concurrent with work in the studio first the singles: Hey Joe, the inimitable Purple Haze and The Wind Cries Mary, written for Kathy when Hendrix was left alone at home after she had stormed out from an argument, so the story goes (Mary is her middle name). I never realised quite how hard he worked, says Sarah Bardwell, director of the Handel House Museum, researching her new charge. The Experience would finish a concert up north, drive south, record between 3am and 9am, then return north for two more shows each day. LSD had yet to play a major role if the Experience were on amphetamines, it was to keep the schedule.

In various studios, ending up at west Londons Olympic, work began. I used to ring them up to book time, recalls Etchingham. Thirty quid an hour and theyd want the cheque there and then. Chandler was aware of this and would occasionally hasten things along by taking what the band thought was a warm-up to be the finished product. What? the band would say, recalls Altham. Thats it, Chas would reply. Now for the next one.

But the soundscape unique to Hendrix, pushing the technology to its limits, was not serendipity, nor was it only about Hendrixs genius: there was science behind the subliminal magic. This was not psychcolergic, as Eric Burdon used to call it, says Garland. Hendrix knew exactly what he was doing. And this process began with a man called Roger Mayer.

We call this the Surrey blues Delta, says Mayer, with a wave of his arms across the crazy-paving pathways of Worcester Park, near Surbiton. Eric over here, Keith down the road, the Stones from there. Mayer was an acoustician and sonic wave engineer for the Admiralty, a civil servant in the Ministry of Defence, but also an inventor of various electronic musical devices, including an improved wah-wah pedal and the Octavia guitar effect with its unique doubling effect. Id shown it to Jimmy Page, but he thought it was too far out. Jimi said, the moment we met, Yeah, Id like to try that stuff. One of my favourite memories of all, says Etchingham, is Jimi and Roger huddled together over the console and the instruments, talking about stuff way over my head, and then this glorious thing happening.

We started from the premise that music was a mission, not a competition, says Mayer, who describes himself as a sonic consultant to Hendrix. That the basis was the blues, but that the framework of the blues was too tight. Wed talk first about what he wanted the emotion of the song to be. Whats the vision? He would talk in colours and my job was to give him the electronic palette which would engineer those colours so he could paint the canvas.

Let me try to explain why it sounds like it does: when you listen to Hendrix, you are listening to music in its pure form, he adds. The electronics we used were feed forward, which means that the input from the player projects forward the equivalent of electronic shadow dancing so that what happens derives from the original sound and modifies what is being played. But nothing can be predictive it is speed-forward analogue, a non-repetitive wave form, and that is the definition of pure music and therefore the diametric opposite of digital.

Look, if you throw a pebble into a lake, you have no way of predicting the ripples it depends on how you throw the stone, or the wind. Digital makes the false presumption that you can predict those ripples, but Jimi and I were always looking for the warning signs. The brain knows when it hears repetition that this is no longer music and what you hear when you listen to Hendrix is pure music. It took discussion and experiment, and some frustrations, but then that moment would come, wed put the headphones down and say, Got it. Thats the one.

But I take none of the credit, insists Mayer. You can build a racing car just like the one that won the 1955 grand prix. But if you cant drive like Juan Manuel Fangio, youre not going to win the grand prix. Jimi Hendrix only sounds like he does because he was Jimi Hendrix.

Everyone knows that Hendrix had hundreds of women, often concurrently but that is not as interesting as the fact that, says Altham, Kathy Etchingham was the love of his life. Mayer recalls them oozing affection, even when there was a row he needed her very badly indeed. Hendrix called the flat into which he moved with her in 1968 the only home I ever had.

We knew we wanted Mayfair, says Etchingham, so we could walk to the gigs, but the prices were high, even though it was a little seedy 30 a week. The couple furnished the split-level, top-floor apartment together with prints and wall hangings from Portobello Road. When Hendrix found out that Handel had lived downstairs, he went round to HMV or One Stop Records to get Messiah, says Sarah Bardwell. What is so interesting is that they were both musicians from abroad, who came to London to make their name in this building.

It feels extraordinary now to walk over the venerable floorboards past a replica of Handels harpsichord, portraits of the composer and the score of Messiah in the room in which it was composed, then up a wooden staircase to Hendrixs whitewashed sitting room and bedroom above. Sarah Bardwells aim is for a joint Handel-Hendrix house museum of some kind. Blue English Heritage plaques accompany each other on the wall outside; Hendrix was added in 1997, a labour of devotion by Kathy Etchingham, who recalls English Heritage balking at the fact that the shop front below was a lingerie shop, all mannequins wearing suspenders and knickers, which needed covering up while the plaque was unveiled.

Now, it is the posh Jo Malone perfumery, though in our day it was Mr Loves cafe, she recalls fondly. On the corner of Oxford Street. And there was an Indian tea shop wed go to in South Molton Street, and always HMV or One Stop and wed walk to the gigs along Regent Street or across Hanover Square, and maybe take a taxi home.

The memories of the people who actually knew him overshadow the tragic, antiheroic Hendrix of popular imagination. Etchingham and Keith Altham recall a man with a sense of humour. If things were getting tense in the studio, says Altham, hed just play Teddy Bears Picnic. Adds Tony Garland: If I told Jimi to kiss my arse, hed answer, Youve got a rubber neck, do it yourself with a sly grin. You always knew you were with someone quicker-witted than yourself.

Altham also talks about Hendrix saying nothing to reporters, or contradictory things, on purpose. He would pat his fingers against his lips mid-sentence and go, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera, in order to say, in effect, nothing. He wanted the music to speak. He also had this way of saying things that made you do a double take: Did he really say that? Such as, just before he went on to play with Clapton, who was his idol, for the first time, he told me, I want to see if he is as good as he thinks I am which is not at all the remark you first think it is.

But many of those who comprised Hendrixs inner circle in London now talk about some demise in his mental agility once he became popular in his native US, a mass commodity caught between the triangle of his own racially transgressive music, his blackness and the black power movement, and his overwhelmingly white audience. Even then, though, Hendrix closed the 1969 Woodstock festival with a version of The Star-Spangled Banner, which became the anthem for both the movement against the war in Vietnam and Hendrixs own complicated empathy with the young American fodder sent to fight it, as a former military man himself. Many of his childhood friends were over there, some never to return. The anthem made Jimi famous worldwide, veering into a vortex out of which emerged Purple Haze, a glorious, lyrical dirge for something, for everything; an endpiece not only to Woodstock but to so many dreams.

Chas Chandler would come into the studio and find two women in his chair, recalls Tappy Wright. Get out of my chair! hed say. And then, well, there were drugs, drugs, drugs. I never took any, because I had to make sure everyone got out of bed in the morning but they were around, too much around. Altham says that Chandler told him that he gave Jimi an ultimatum: Either I go or the hangers-on go. But there was no getting rid of them, so Chas quit and Jimi was left with Michael Jeffery.

Jimi was at his best when the fame never got in the way of the music, says Etchingham, and at his worst when the fame took over, when people who hardly knew him suddenly became his best friends. He had this thing, says Altham, of not being able to say no to people and this became a problem.

Even the flat on Brook Street became an open house, to journalists, anyone. Its funny, says Sarah Bardwell. Here we are trying to contact his old friends who are now superstars for our events and exhibition, and its like laying siege to Fort Knox! Yet Hendrix was available to anyone, perhaps almost too much so.

Despite the distractions, there was one project consistently dear to Hendrixs heart: the state-of-the-art Electric Lady Studios in New York, opened with a party on 26 August 1970, the night before he was due to fly back to England to play the Isle of Wight festival. Only Hendrix was almost too shy to appear and, when he did so, he retreated to the steps outside, where he met a young singer-songwriter too shy to enter the fray Patti Smith. It was all too much for me. Johnny Winter in there and all, recalled Smith in a past interview with the Observer. So I thought, Ill just sit awhile on the steps and out came Jimi and sat next to me. And he was so full of ideas; the different sounds he was going to create in this studio, wider landscapes, experiments with musicians and new soundscapes. All he had to do was get over back to England, play the festival and get back to work…

It had been a long weekend on the Isle of Wight and, for me, an exciting one. I was compelled not disgusted, as is the official history by the determination of French and German anarchists to tear down the fences so that it be a free festival. I loved the fact that Notting Hills local band, Hawkwind, played outside the fence in protest at the ticket prices. The strange atmosphere added to the climactic moment, after the Who and others: the one set, at 2am on the Monday, for which it was imperative to get down from among the crowds on Desolation Row and force a way right to the front and concentrate or, rather, submit to hypnosis. The set by Jimi Hendrix.

It is written in the lore of Hendrixology that this was a terrible performance. Hendrix had arrived exhausted, by the previous months events, the upcoming tour, the days violence and by walkie-talkie voices that somehow made their way into the PA system. But all I remember, having just turned 16, is a dream coming true: the greatest rock musician of all time (one knew this with assurance) dressed in blazing red and purple silks, actually playing the version of Sgt Peppers about which I had read so much in NME, playing Purple Haze, Voodoo Chile and a long, searing Machine Gun, just yards away. I remember the sound the sounds, plural bombarding me from the far side of some emotional, existential, hallucinogenic and sexual checkpoint along the road towards the rest of my life. I remember him playing the horn parts to Sgt Peppers on his guitar! I remember the deafening and painful silence after he finished his fusillade and in the crowd a mixture of rapture, gratitude, enlightenment and affection.

Afterwards, Hendrix went on a reportedly disastrous tour of Scandinavia and Germany (failing to meet one of his two children, by a Swedish girlfriend the other he had sired in New York and also never met), before returning to the Cumberland hotel and the room in which he gave his last ever interview, to Keith Altham. (To mark the anniversary, the Cumberland has designed and decorated these rooms in a swirl of colour, stocked it with Hendrix music and called it the Hendrix Suite, in which people can stay.)

There were two women in the room, recalls Altham. One of them was a girlfriend called Devon Wilson and she was dodgy she dealt him drugs and I can say that now because shes dead. But he knew me well by this time and he seemed better than Id seen him previously. The interview is a remarkable one, utterly devoid of all the nonsense that would ensue about suicide and a death wish. On the tape, Hendrix laughs and jokes; he tells Altham about plans to re-form the Experience and tour England again.

On the night of 16 September, Hendrix went to Ronnie Scotts without his guitar, hoping to jam with Eric Burdons new band, War. Burdon considered him unfit to play. The following night, he returned and joined his friend on stage. I was tired, I missed it, says Altham, though, of course, I regret that now. It was the last time Hendrix ever played the guitar.

Hendrix went on to a party with a German woman, Monika Dannemann, and back to her rooms at the Samarkand hotel in Lansdowne Crescent. There are so many accounts of exactly what happened next, but all converge on the fact that he had drunk a fair amount, taken some kind of amphetamines (Black bombers, I think, given to him by Devon Wilson, surmises Altham) and some of Dannemans Vesparax sleeping pills, not knowing their strength. He vomited during the deep ensuing sleep, insufficiently conscious enough to throw up; Danneman panicked, and telephoned Burdon, who urged her to call an ambulance. But the greatest guitarist of all time was dead upon arrival at St Mary Abbots hospital, aged 27. (Sadly, Danneman took her own life in 1996.)

So it was, back in September 1970, that I made my way up Lansdowne Rise and round the corner to the Samarkand hotel after reading the news today, oh boy. I was amazed to have the pavement outside the address at which Jimi Hendrix had died that morning all to myself for a good couple of hours not a soul. I went home, got some chalk, and wrote: Scuse us while we kiss the sky, Jimi on the flagstones (OK, but I was only 16) and retreated to watch. Nothing happened and after another hour, a man came out and washed the words away and I returned home to write a lament in my diary, which I still have, the Standards front page folded at the date.

Speculations about suicide and murder are too ridiculous to contemplate most of them are probably concocted in order to dramatise and distract from the awful reality of such a genius dying in this way but what does matter are Kathy Etchinghams reflections. Jimi died because the simple things got complicated. He was born to a father who was an alcoholic and a mother who died and he died because he was in that flat in Notting Hill with a complete stranger who gave him a load of sleeping pills without telling him how strong they were. Its as simple and as complicated as that.

Im older and wiser now, she says. I enjoy culture and the fine things in life. I can look back and see all that more clearly than I did at the time I was so young, only 24. Of the compelling memoir she has written, Through Gypsy Eyes, she says: Id like to go over it again, fill in a few things, but what I want now, most of all from this anniversary, is for people to understand that it was in Britain that he was welcomed, it was there he was happy and such fun to be around yes, grumpy at times, and a handful but such a man. Id like the young people to know that.

Lets face it, says Tappy Wright, if Jimi had stayed with Kathy, hed probably be alive and playing still. Plus, he always said he wanted to be buried in London, not Seattle, where he was born and his family lived. It wasnt just me he told that, it was plenty of people that this was home. Still, says Etchingham, at least weve got the plaque, the Handel House Museum, and Im looking forward to seeing everyone in September. They were great times and well take a trip down memory lane. Only 40 years is a long time and Jimi wont be there.

The Hendrix in Britain exhibition runs at Handel House museum, 25 Brook Street, London W1, from 25 Aug-7Nov. Hendrixs rooms will be open from 15-26 Sep

Source: http://allofbeer.com/2017/07/15/jimi-hendrix-you-never-told-me-he-was-that-good/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2017/07/15/jimi-hendrix-you-never-told-me-he-was-that-good/

[lakanen]

Introductory Remarks to a Program of Works Produced at the Columbia-Princeton Electronic Music Center, Given at the McMillan Theater of Columbia University on May 9 and 10th, 1961:

Your presence here, at a concert of electronic music, is a compliment to the composers, as well to the Universities that sponsor their work; and while I extend to you a welcome on behalf of the Universities I also wish to convey the composers’ hope that you will be as gratified by hearing their works as they are by your willingness to listen.

No doubt your expectations are mixed. You are ready to be surprised, to have your curiosity satisfied, and possibly even to experience snatches of enjoyment as you would at an ordinary concert. If that is your state of mind I am fairly sure you will not be disappointed. But it may be that you are here in a mood of combined trepidation and resistance: this, after all, is the Age of Anxiety … Or you may be bent on proving that electronic music is not music - doing this by the most painful test of endurance, or else you may be feeling caught because you have been brought by a friend and friendship is dearer to you than prudence.

If for these or any other reasons you are ill at ease, allow me to suggest a very few considerations which should make you more serene, while leaving you your full freedom of opinion, your entire right to dislike and reject. I suggest, to begin with, that we are not here to like or approve but to understand. And the first step to understanding a new art is to try to imagine why the maker wants it the way it is. That is interesting in itself, even if we ultimately disown the product. To understand in this fashion does not mean to accept passively because someone says that the stuff is new and therefore good, that many believe in it, that it’s going to succeed anyway, so it’s best to resign oneself to the inevitable. This kind of reasoning has gone on about modern art for some thirty years and nothing has been more harmful to the arts. It is an inverted philistinism, which eliminates judgement and passion just as surely as did the older philistinism of blind opposition to whatever was new.

What then is the decent, reasonable attitude to adopt? Very simple: make the assumption, first, that the old style - whatever it is - has exhausted its possibilities and can only offer repetition or trivial variations of the familiar masterpieces. I do not suggest that you should be convinced that your favorite music is obsolete. I invite you to assume that it may be: for by trying to think that it is, as the new composer obviously has done, you will begin to discover what he is up to. By way of encouragement let me remind you that you make this very assumption automatically four or five times in every classical concert, in order to adjust your ear to the changes in style between Bach and Mozart, Mozart and Richard Strauss, and - if you can - between Strauss and Alban Berg. If styles and genres did not suffer exhaustion, there would only be one style and form in each art from its beginnings to yesterday.

But, you may say, electronic music is something else again; it is out of bounds; the jump is too great. There is no semblance of scale, the sounds are new, most of them are in fact noises. Ah noise! Noise is the most constant complaint in the history of music. In the heyday of music it was not only Berlioz and Wagner who were damned as noisy. Mozart before them and Haydn, and even earlier Lully and Handel. I suspect that the reason Orpheus was torn to pieces by women is that he made horrendous noises on his lyre while they were washing clothes at the river in what they thought was melodious silence. The argument of noise is always irrelevant. The true question is: does the this noise, when familiar, fall into intelligible forms and impressive contents? To supply the answer takes time. One hearing, two, three, are not enough. Something must change in the sensibility itself, in the way that a foreign language suddenly breaks into meaning and melody after months or years of its being mere noise. As a veteran of the premiere of Stravinsky’s Sacre du Printemps in Paris, I can testify to the reality of the change. At the end of the piece, the conductor Pierre Monteaux turned around amid the furious howls of the audience and said that since they had liked the piece so much he would play it again. The response was no better and the police had to quell the tumult. But now, fifty years later, the young accept those hammering rhythms and dissonant chords as if they were lullabies. They relish them while dallying in canoes, at the movies to accompany Disney’s abstractions, and at the circus, where the music is used for the elephants to dance to.

Associations, in short, and assumptions rule our judgements. They govern our feelings, which we think are altogether spontaneous and truthful. But our sensibility is always more complex and more resourceful that we suppose, and that is why I have ventured to bring to your conscious notice what you knew all the time but might not allow for sufficiently in listening to electronic music for the first time.

The work ‘electronic’ suggests a final objection with which it is will to have come to grips. Most people of artistic tastes share the widespread distrust and dislike of machinery and argue that anything pretending to be art cannot come out of a machine: art is the human product par excellence, and electronic music, born of intricate circuits and the oscillations of particles generated by Con Edison, is a contradiction in terms. Here again the answer is simple: the moment man ceased to make music with his voice alone the art became machine-ridden. Orpheus’s lure was a machine, a symphony orchestra is a regular factory for making artificial sounds, and a piano is the most appalling contrivance of levers and wires this side of a steam engine.

Similarly, the new electronic devices are but a means for producing new materials to play with. What matters is not how they are produced but how they are used. And as to that we are entitled to ask the old questions - do we find the substance rich, evocative, capable of subtlety and strength? Do we, after a while, recognize patterns to which we can respond, with our sense of balance, our sense of suspense and fulfillment, our sense of emotional and intellectual congruity? Those are the problems, beyond the technical, which our composers have tried to solve. We shall now attend to their handiwork with pleasure and gratitude (I hope) and certainly with a generous fraction of the patience they have themselves invested in their efforts to please us.

Jacques Barzun

© Columbia Records 1964

#Jacques Barzun #essay #electronic music #Rite of Spring #Age of Anxiety #elephants #circus #Disney #Barzun #quote #Orpheus #Con Edison #symphony #orchestra #composition #electronic #Sacre du Printemps #Stravinsky #Berlioz #dissonant

[dancewithmeplano]

Dance to the Music of Time

There’s been a lot going on. Leaving the Bad Plus is the largest shift, but various other kind of career and conceptual themes also have been undergoing transformation. I also just turned 45, ” which could be believed midpoint of this journey.

It really all does seem curved. Themes re-occur. The last month nearly felt like a trip of yesteryear.

—

Sarah and I visited Daniel Pinkwater. There is a meme inquiring, “What four pictures are you?” I really don’t have four pictures, but I really do have the collected works of Daniel Pinkwater. Alan Mendelsohn, Boy From Mars; The Snarkout Boys and the Avocado of Death; Lizard Music — these 3 novels “are me”

Sarah stated, let’s give Pinkwater a monster. That monster charge me a small fortune in Tokyo, but she had been right. It had been the great present, a perfect trade.

On the drive we listened to Pinkwater music books in the car. Amazing! I only learned that Mr. Pinkwater himself reads his own books and you can purchase them on iTunes. They are now an essential part of my travel catalog.

—

Rufus Reid turned in the Pat Zimmerli Clockworks concert at Merkin Hall. Rufus is a consecrated jazz bassist, but for me he had been also an important teacher. One afternoon at Banff in 1990, students and faculty were sitting around the coffee shop and Miles Davis’s “Bye Bye Blackbird” came on as background music. Rufus Reid staged together with Coltrane’s solo note for note. I had been impressed and impressed. To understand to perform, was I really going to have to sing Coltrane solos also? That seemed hard — too difficult! It took me decades and some further strict instruction from Lee Konitz, however, in the long run I decided that Reid was perfect. I can not sing any Coltrane yet, but I can sing a lot of Lester Young and Charlie Parker.

Photo by Vinnie Sperrazza

Seeing Reid brought back that memory and from this time next year I guarantee to have the ability to sing Coltrane’s “Bye Bye Blackbird” and “All of You” from ‘Round About Midnight.

—

I added ” You” to the heap because Billy Hart told me:

The first time I fell in love with John Coltrane was that his solo on ” You” from Miles’ ‘Round Midnight. I have talked to Gary Bartz about this, and he felt exactly the same way–which this solo made us Coltrane fans, forever.

Billy Hart is my most important teacher and we have worked together for over twenty decades. However, I hadn’t ever played with Buster Williams and Billy Hart collectively, despite Buster and Billy being universally considered one of the wonderful bass/drum mixes.

It finally occurred on Tuesday, quartet together with Billy Harper. Everybody agreed that it was incredible to listen to the beat played with that bassist with that drummer.

Billy Hart, Lenny White, Buster Williams

Lenny White was there. He plays with Buster all the time — they have become a traditional contemporary rhythm section — but I think he wished to find a flavor of that other thing Mchezaji has with Jabali. In the dressing room I had been as silent as possible while I listened to them tell stories.

Billy Hart talked about studying Afro Cuban songs from Lenny White! They were playing with Pharoah Sanders. Neither was playing with drum group, they were on cowbells and claves. Afterwards Billy whined to Lenny about how Lenny appeared so much better and Lenny said that he was actually checking out authentic Afro Cuban songs. This anecdote describes in a flash Lenny White was able to walk into and power a lot of the best fusion recordings: The deep background for its “new” method of dealing with the eighth circa 1970 was African American procedures from tens of thousands of years back. Of course.

—

Patrick Zimmerli’s Clockworks  together with Chris Tordini, John Hollenbeck, and me personally is out, and so is — finally — Shores Against Silence, the recording with Kevin Hays, Larry Grenadier, and Tom Rainey from 1991. I had been at that recording session, and discovered “The Paw” for the very first time in the studio. Pat provides me a particular mention in the liner notes to Shores Against Silence, which I think is only fair, as I’ve been telling people that this is an amazing album since…well I figure since 1991.

Vinnie Sperrazza is getting to be a major new collaborator. At the Clockworks position that he appeared in the score and stated, “I can hear Pat had been an effect on you” Without a doubt — Pat will always be a monument in my own entire life, which is elaborated further in our interview.

Vinnie took the photograph of me and Rufus Reid collectively afterwards telling me of a period he played with James Williams and Rufus Reid in Knickerbocker’s. Yeah, Vinnie’s my type of cat, with a swinging cymbal beat that undulates inside the music. We’re working collectively in Pepperland, the extravagant revue created by Mark Morris for the Mark Morris Dance Group.

—

It is just wonderful to be back together with Mark Morris back again. For five years that I had been his musical manager. I watched the dance shows every night, then following the series went to Mark’s hotel room and listened to Handel and Partch. Lorraine Hunt Lieberson would attend rehearsal; I played with Schumann with Yo-Yo Ma. It had been around me to attract conductors in line about tempi and singers around diction.

Pepperland is the Beatles as viewed though the prism of classical music and it really works. It’s been really amazing to expose Vinnie and other buddies Jacob Garchik, Sam Newsome, and Rob Schwimmer to the magic of Morris. In addition, it is just incredible to leave the Bad Plus and also be instantly involved in another hit project.

—

Concerto to Scale reflects Morris, Zimmerli, Jabali, and everything else that I love. It surely reflects Pinkwater. Program notes:

My very first piece for orchestra is blatantly modest in measurement, or “to scale” While composing, I re-read a number of my favourite books from when I was a young adult and tried to catch that kind of joyful emotion. The work is devoted to John Bloomfield.

Allegro. Sonata form in C major with tons of scales. My left hand and the bass drum soloist are the rhythm section offering syncopations in conversation with the orchestra’s standard chain material.

Andante. A 19th-centutry nocturne air meets modern polyrhythms. That is a stunning elaboration of a piece originally written for Mark Turner called “We Come In the Future.”

Rondo. The rate mark is, “Misfit Rag.” Ragtime is how American composers traditionally insert a touch of jazz on the concert stage, and who am I to disagree? The orchestra gets a chance to improvise along with the pianist and percussionist enjoy a double cadenza.

I didn’t really have to re-read Pinkwater for the Concerto — I have these publications memorized — but that I did examine The Toothpaste Millionaire from Jean Merrill (1972) and Alvin’s Secret Code by Clifford B. Hicks (1963). These two are undisputed classics and remain in print. Interestingly, both will also be on race relations, a simple fact I had completely forgotten. They are white writers referring to the midwest in the 1960s, therefore perhaps not every authorial decision will beyond muster now, but they had been in there, trying to swing. They had been about my two favourite novels when I was ten or eleven. I had good taste!

The review by Seth Colter Walls was satisfying (Amanda Ameer said I look just like  Schroeder in the picture, which is ideal) and I have been astonished just how much I enjoy listening to the cassette.

(if you would like to listen to the rough mix of this premiere or examine the score, sign up for Floyd Camembert Reports.)

Between Pepperland and the Concerto, it’s beginning to feel as though my future will involve extended composition.

—

Composition might be part of this future, but additionally, I will always be a jazz pianist who enjoys to play with clubs. Starting tomorrow I am on an extensive UK tour together with Martin Speake.

20/4 Sheffield Jazz Crookes Social Club http://www.sheffieldjazz.org.uk/ 21/4 Brighton Verdict https://verdictjazz.co.uk/ 22/4 Colchester Arts Centre https://www.colchesterartscentre.com/ 23 Cheltenham Jazz http://www.cheltenhamjazz.co.uk/ 24/4 London Pizza Express https://www.pizzaexpresslive.com/venues/soho-jazz-club 25/4London Pizza Express https://www.pizzaexpresslive.com/venues/soho-jazz-club 26/4 St George’s Bristol https://www.stgeorgesbristol.co.uk/ 27/4 Reading Progress Theatre http://www.jazzinreading.com/ 29/4 Cinnamon Club Manchester http://www.thecinnamonclub.net/ 1/5 Hastings http://jazzhastings.co.uk/ 3/5 Cambridge https://www.cambridgejazz.org/index.php?name=home 4/5 Poole Lighthouse https://www.lighthousepoole.co.uk/

Go to Martin’s FB site to get more.

Martin and I go back to Banff in 1990. It was a hell of a lineup there: Faculty included Rufus Reid, Marvin Smitty Smith, Stanley Cowell, Kevin Eubanks, Kenny Wheeler. Abraham Adzenyah taught dance from Ghana — I suppose the very first time I danced with a woman was in that course. (Currently this post is becoming overly personal.) Steve Coleman was the artistic manager.

The students were also amazing. Tony Malaby, Seamus Blake, Ralph Alessi, George Colligan, John Stetch, Andy Milne — Jeez, I know I am forgetting some others that are now renowned…

Particularly important to my artistic growth were Benoît Delbecq and Steve Argüelles, that went on for a real force collectively and big influence. With Noël Akchoté they turned into The Recyclers and released Rhymes in 1994. You want to understand something that I checked out? Rhymes was some thing that I checked out, especially the monitor “Suguxhama” from  Argüelles and Django Bates.

(Later, motivated by David King and Craig Taborn, I’d listen to all the fantabulous Django Bates records together with Martin France on drums. It turns out that France is going to be on several gigs of this Martin Speake tour. Wow! I’m going to have to play with Martin France for the very first time.)

At Banff 2 duo connections had notable resonance. The fantastic Jill Seifers (a wonderful vocalist who ended up dying far too young) and that I did a set in the little Banff club which I listened to repeatedly. Along with Martin Speake and that I created a recording which was enormous fun, he is splendid lyrical participant that sees it from all the angles.

At the Vortex gig earlier this year, Martin told the audience that after we met with Banff, I delivered him (by post from Menomonie, Wisconsin to London, England) a tape of Ornette Coleman’s then-scarce Science Fiction accompanied by a note on Doctor Who stationery. Yes It really does all seem curved. Themes re-occur. I openly admit I can’t wait to get Jodie Whittaker.

—

Writer with George Colligan.

Writer with Benoît Delbecq.

Writer with Django Bates.

Stanley Cowell plays “Carolina Shout” in my James P. Johnson event.

The post <p>Dance to the Music of Time</p> appeared first on dance withme plano.

from dance withme plano http://www.dancewithmeplano.com/dance-to-the-music-of-time/