Archive for February, 2012

Quote of the day: MASK

February 13, 2012

MASK

The mask means to me: freshness of color, sumptuous decoration, wild unexpected gestures, very shrill expressions, exquisite turbulence.

— James Ensor

James Ensor, "Masks Confronting Death" (1888)

Photo diary: klenengan at Wesleyan

February 12, 2012




You can see a tiny video excerpt here from an eight-hour klenengan at Wesleyan Feb 4, 2012, featuring the spectacular Solonese vocalist Peni Candra Rini with members of NYC’s Gamelan Kusuma Laras (including Pak Harjito on kendhang)

Playlist: iPod shuffle

February 12, 2012

Satisfying eclecticism is what I look for in a playlist, and lately I’ve been enjoying letting iPod shuffle through this string comprising some (though not all) of my favorite new albums of 2011:

Walls, Apparat
Bon Iver
Helplessness Blues
, Fleet Foxes
The Social Network OST, Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross
21, Adele
Hard Bargain, Emmylou Harris
Standing On the Rooftop, Madeleine Peyroux
Sacred Songs, Renee Fleming
Shawn Colvin Live
Around the Well,
Iron & Wine
The Harrow & The Harvest, Gillian Welch
Tell My Sister, Kate & Anna McGarrigle (the bonus CD of demos and unreleased recordings)
Biophilia, Bjork
Aabenbaringen over Aaskammen, Casiokids
The Twilight Saga: New Moon OST (the tracks by Thom Yorke, Bon Iver & St. Vincent, and Grizzly Bear)

Performance diary: tUnE-yArDs at American Songbook

February 12, 2012

Every musical education is necessarily idiosyncratic. Watching Merrill Garbus’s ebullient performance at the Allen Room with her band tUnE-yArDs, I had fun tracking the pieces of my own listening history that allowed me to even begin to comprehend her startling, wildly original musical attack. The first time I heard someone use looping to create a rhythm track was in the fall of 1980, when Laurie Anderson started performing “O Superman” (ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha) — now any number of solo performers have pedals at their feet and keyboards at their fingertips to conjure a digital orchestra. Garbus has a particularly goofy yet precise way of building tracks using her voice, a tomtom, a snare drum, and a high-hat with a tambourine parked on top of it. The additive principles of her compositions/arrangements remind me a lot of gamelan music, which I first heard at the Los Angeles Festival in 1990 but didn’t really understand until I started playing with a gamelan myself a couple of years ago. And the long-lined polyrhythms churned out by the rest of her band — bassist Nate Brenner and saxophonists Noah Bernstein-Hanley and Matt Nelson — unmistakeably refer to the Afro-beat sounds of Fela Kuti, whose music I heard for years but never really grasped until I saw Bill T. Jones’s dazzling stage musical Fela! That’s a pretty unorthodox lineage for a singer-songwriter, n’est-ce pas? Garbus is pretty ostentatious about her performance-art background and kooky self-presentation — she took to the stage with yellow and black stripes painted on her face and led the audience through mini-workshop exercises in communal toning and “breath of fire” in and amidst performing tracks from her breakthrough album w h o k i l l (especially exhilarating renditions of “Bizness” and “Gangsta”). She’s definitely one of the more eccentric entries in Lincoln Center’s enterprising American Songbook series.

At the end of the show, she invited ticketholders to join her outside in Columbus Circle, where some of her faithful tUnE-yArDs army assisted her in creating a tongue-in-cheek political/spiritual ritual wrapping the statue of Christopher Columbus with yellow-and-black-striped police tape only custom-designed to say “Occupy.”  Fun!

R.I.P.: Whitney Houston

February 12, 2012

Like everyone else, I suppose, I’m not terribly surprised yet very sad today after the death of Whitney Houston, once a super-talented singer, gone way too young at 48.  I had the pleasure of seeing her in person three times, very early on. The first time was before she even had a record deal. I think it was Eliot Hubbard, one of the music business’s eagerest early adopters, who encouraged me to check her out when she sang with her mother at a tiny club right around the corner from my apartment in the West Village. I wrote a tiny review of the show for the Village Voice. When her first album came out, I reviewed it for Rolling Stone, and Stephen Holden and I saw her perform at Sweetwater’s, a now-defunct nightclub near Lincoln Center. Probably not even a year later, Stephen reviewed her Carnegie Hall debut, by which time her meteoric ascent had begun — what I remember most from that concert was that she tore up “I Am Changing” (from Dreamgirls), getting a standing ovation in the middle of the song. After that, I was content to keep my distance and enjoy that glorious voice on record — my favorite memory being dancing on a party boat in Hamburg and hearing several thousand German leathermen sing along to “I’m Every Woman.”  Those were the days, my friend….