Bob Dylan gave the second best speech of his career when honored as the MusicCares Person of the Year for 2015.
The charity provides money and services for music industry people in their time of need.
A transcript of the speech can be found via the link listed below.
But before you get to that, watch this, a recording of a different speech Bob Dylan gave, over 51 years ago, which someone had the good sense to synch with a slideshow of cleverly placed photos, and then put it on YouTube.
Dylan was 21 years old when he stepped on the stage at Town Hall in New York City, to pay tribute to Woody Guthrie, who was then in the Brooklyn State Hospital he would never leave.
If you have not heard it, do yourself the favor and “roll along with this thing.”
The transcript of Dylan’s equally memorable speech from the MusiCares event can be found at the LA Times , HERE
As I walked home in the darkening afternoon, along the stone-face grumps and grinches clutching their collars against the mean and petty snow sent sideways by a bickering wind, I saw a girl of 8 and her baby sister gleefully skipping along trying to catch snowflakes on their tongues, and laughing like little glowing lamps.
I think the reason Christmas has always mattered to so many who have no particular connection to the mishmash of ancient mythologies that led to it is specifically because December is so deep and dark, as Paul Simon put it. It can be an infusion of cheer and bright lights when they are needed most.
And that bit about good will to all peoples is pretty great too. And that will have extra poignancy as we mark the 100th anniversary of the impromptu “Christmas truce” along the trenches in 1914.
The BBC News Magazine writes that an experiment conducted by the television program Trust Me, I’m a Doctor suggests reheating pasta can greatly reduce the rise in blood glucose.
University of Surrey scientist Dr. Denise Robertson explained how cooked pasta that had been cooled down would be treated similar to fiber, resulting in fewer calories absorbed, a smaller peak in blood glucose, while providing greater nourishment for helpful gut bacteria.
It was not known what happens when you reheat pasta.
But it was suspected that reheating the pasta would negate such healthful benefits. So Dr Chris van Tulleken of Trust Me, I’m a Doctor decided to find out. He was surprised to learn the opposite appears true.
Cooling cooked pasta and then reheating it seems to convert the pasta to an even more “resistant starch” that digests more slowly, and in their one experiment with several volunteers, blood glucose levels were notably lower than eating cooled pasta, and 50% lower than eating pasta that had never been cooled.
As a result of the experiment, Diabetes UK will fund further research by Dr. Robertson into whether resistant starch like reheated pasta could improve blood test results associated with Diabetes.
Trust Me, I’m a Doctor tests common health claims and concerns about things like probiotics, vitamin C, plastic water bottles, and emergency first aid treatments.
NASA’s Maven has arrived at Mars and has safely settled into orbit
Now begins its mission of investigating the high atmosphere of the red planet, in hopes of shedding new light on the mystery of just how Mars lost its atmosphere.
After 10 months in spaceflight, and a 33 minute burn to slow the orbiter enough to be captured by Mars’ gravity. And while it focuses on its science goals, some 48 hours later the first Mars satellite from India will arrive to further similar studies, including the attempt to observe methane, which could be a sign of active biology on a planet once thought to be dead.
But the question of life on Mars, past or present, may not be answered for many years to come.
The Playhouse Creatures Theatre Company presented their 2nd Annual Tennessee Williams Festival
with a wine reception, a reading of the Williams’ one act play, Kingdom of Earth, introduced by Playhouse Creatures Artistic Director Joseph W. Rodriguez, followed by a panel discussion featuring accomplished directors known for successful interpretations of the dramatist’s work.
Austin Pendleton, Emily Mann, Jodie Markell, Cosmin Chivu, Travis Chamberlain, Thomas Keith
The panel was moderated by Williams scholar Thomas Keith, Consulting Editor at New Directions, Williams’ original and only publisher. He had asked each of the guests to focus their comments on one specific project, in relation to the topic of directing Williams’ later, lesser-known works and, in one case, bringing a fresh approach to an early iconic play.
Drama and comedy written for the theater is as old as civilization itself, and at its heart has always been language that reveals fundamental aspects of what it means to be human and what it means to be inhuman. The greatest playwrights are poets whose words can reach across years and even centuries to present an artistic mirror that compels us humans to laugh (or weep) at ourselves, reaffirm our values, or reexamine the validity of our most cherished beliefs in what we hold to be sacred or profane. And Tennessee Williams is arguably the greatest playwright that America may ever produce. From the shortest stories to the grandest pageants, his wit and wisdom wove poetic tapestries featuring memorable characters and speaking directly to issues of class, race, sexuality, and social justice in ways that were daring for his time, but which remain just as relevant today. It is the universal aspect of his themes, usually presented in the specific environs of the American South during the middle of the twentieth century, that provide audiences so much treasure, as well as his ability to provide actors with language that appears to be rendered in our common speech, but is in fact poetry and how we only wish we spoke to one another.
Moderator Keith had asked for comments relating to issues faced when staging later Williams offerings or those known to have been “difficult.” But down the line, the panel stressed that there was nothing wrong with Williams’ later plays. Rather, they agreed, any real issues lay with critics and a public that wanted him to keep writing the traditional dramas from the early 50s, when he had evolved toward deeply personal works, expressionistic in style, and intimate in their nuanced structure and language, which could not be adequately expressed in the cavernous Broadway houses where they were first staged, often coming off as melodramas.
We Already Have Birds That Sing, the new CD from Life in a Blender, is an album of tunes developed through live performance, and perfected in the recording studio, with the addition of extra guitar parts, refined arrangements for the resident strings, and a hard-hitting horn section of guest artists.
But the blood and guts of each cut on this, their 8th album, is the rock n roll core of drums, bass, and electric guitar propelling the singing that is voiced by the guy next door, with an affable lilt that can change to carnival barker or shrieking banshee on a dime.
photo: Quigley Media
Life in a Blender arose in the post-punk art rock scene of the mid-1980s. The current lineup has been together over twenty years, with a loyal fan base that continues to grow, thanks to the inventive thinking man’s rock composed by an ensemble of veteran musicians, and the sneakily adroit lyrics of front man Don Rauf, which are like little short stories, filled with quirky characters defined by the imagery of a specific time and place, yet achieving the cathartic impact of broader human experience.
The album opens with a blast of raucous horns, leading into Tongue Cut Sparrow, a boisterous burlesque number, closely based on the published biography of a young Japanese-American singer who was initially forced to work as an exotic dancer at Forbidden City, a popular men’s club in 1950s San Francisco. Shunned by all her family, except a grandmother, she ultimately finds her voice and career as a chanteuse.
In Shards, a man describes his daily life to an old acquaintance, and exhibits a confident outlook even if things could be better, and then suddenly reveals the private, backyard anguish of loss and lamentation. The juxtaposition of human façade and interiors is a theme Don Rauf has explored on previous records, as with the upbeat transient with the broken heart in the song Professional Mover (from The Heart is a Small Balloon, 2007,) along with the eccentric crank of a neighbor who turns out to be a friendly, regular guy once you get to know him, in Hoot Owl (Homewrecker Spoon, 2011.)
But in Shards, the switch between outward appearance and inner reality is more poignant and more surprising, as the brass-driven funk of the first part underscores the growling declaration that, “I’m looking fine. I bump and grind…,”only to have the music and the singer suddenly stripped to the basic beat, as the violin rises up to play on the heart strings while accompanying the strained confession of regret. It is a classic example of just one life in a blender, found in the canon of this long-lived band of the same name.
A less weighty lament is expressed by a lonely guy out on the town, in Mamanama, a romping, stomping two-step, complete with electric fiddle solo. He searches for companionship and good times across the expanse of Los Angeles, appealing to bar flies and surfers alike, with a chorus of “Can’t you see? I’m good company!”
photo: David Barry
In the song Falmouth, a cheery fella imposes his unquenchable optimism on an emotionally distressed friend going through some unnamed crisis, and not taking no for an answer. A press release reveals information about the character’s specific situation. But Falmouth works so well on its own exactly because of the tight focus details of chicken, flowers, and roller derby, set before the background of ambiguous emotional circumstance. It allows a listener to connect the song’s sentiment with their own life experience, where they or one they care for has made similar efforts to reach someone in a bad place and pull them out.
Often when immersing myself in a new record there is a tune that goes unnoticed, only to put a hook in me later on, so that it becomes a permanent part of the repertoire of fragments sung when cleaning the house or walking down the street. Falmouth is that song on this CD. I think it has something to do with the syncopation in the clean picking pattern from guitarist Al Houghton, in combination with the sporadic vocal harmony lines, and the smart and infectious interludes from the horn section, arranged by bassist Mark Lerner.
Then again, the counterpoint underpinning Good Answer, which Lerner composed for cellist Dave Moody and violinist Rebecca Weiner Tompkins, is just as memorable, and it provides plenty of space for drummer Ken Meyer to fill up with tasty accents. Where that song is a flippant response to the bandwagon catch phrases of American pop culture, Frankenstein Cannot Be Stopped breathes new life into one of the most popular stories of gothic horror. The point of view is that of a member of the cinema audience, who is haunted by the tragic scene where the unintentional monster kills his youngest victim, and so he returns again and again to try to warn her from the dark.
The album closes with Sea in a Sieve, a buoyant appreciation of the joys found in setting sail in a small vessel just for the fun of it. And like the record as a whole, it is a transportive entertainment that is worthwhile and enjoyable, but ends sooner than one might wish, leaving a taste for more.
We Already Have Birds That Sing can be downloaded direct from the band’s website, for the indecently affordable price of $7, or you may order an actual CD for $10, which also includes the digital download.
Here is a video of Shards, shot in concert at Joe’s Pub, at the Public Theater in New York City, and features the fledgling horn arrangements. You can see and hear how the song evolved, by comparing it to the video farther down, which was shot at Rockwood Music Hall several months earlier, when Shards was being performed for the very first time.
You will have to get the album to hear the definitive version.
New York Youth Symphony Jazz Orchestra Swinging
with guest artist Stefon Harris
The Appel Room, Lincoln Center’s site for large Jazz concerts, is actually housed inside Time Warner Center, overlooking Columbus Circle. And when I say overlooking, the performers stand before a steep amphitheater, with an enormous wall of framed glass at their back. As the sun sets on 59th Street and Central Park, the city lights provide a ceaseless kaleidoscope of color and motion.
But those exquisite surroundings were upstaged yet again by the red blooded Jazz brought to life before our eyes by the superb musicianship in the New York Youth Symphony’s Jazz Orchestra, with Director Matt Holman conducting. Featuring a richly textured new work by composer Nate Kimball and a spellbinding performance by special guest, vibraphonist Stefon Harris.
Master of Mallets, Stefon Harris (photos: M. Krupit)
The theme for this season’s final Jazz concert was “Feelin’ the Vibes”, featuring well-loved music popularized by the great vibraphonists like Lionel Hampton, Cal Tjader, Terry Gibbs, and Milt Jackson. And four compositions by Mr. Harris.
The night kicked off with Benny Goodman’s Don’t Be That Way from 1935, a big band extravaganza with popping horns that lit a fire under every seat in the place. Matt Holman’s arrangement of Joao Donato’s Sabor from 1962 added some Latin spice to the mix, and then Milt Jackson’s Bag’s Groove from 1958 stirred things into a smooth concoction with an inner city edge, that went down easy and then shook things up until the whole room was jumping, before cooling way down at the end, leaving a tingling, revitalized spirit.
That was quite a three tune warm up, which set the bar rather high for Mr. Kimball’s Karma, the commissioned piece of music performed with the composer sitting in the front row, near the piano.
A graduate of the Downbeat Award-winning Jazz program at the University of Nevada at Las Vegas, Kimball continues his postgraduate studies as a composer, while performing with his own modern-day big band. And Karma was indeed modern, fresh and inventive.
Starting out with layers of syncopation in the reeds and percussion, punctuated by brassy swells, it evolved into a complex and witty piece. With a feint towards Gil Evans, it sailed off into new territory, continuing to surprise throughout, as crescendos melted away into a solo from a lonesome sax or sprightly guitar. And time and again the horns joined forces to weave a rich and textured tapestry, as a backdrop to whatever strain was rising to the forefront. His work utterly satisfying, Mr. Kimball stood for an extended and much deserved ovation.
After this modern gem, we were returned to Jazz’s heyday, with a version of Moonglow, from 1933, one of those timeless tunes I never grow tired of hearing. But this was not the floating dreamboat of guitarist George Barnes or the original foxtrot by his pal, fiddler Joe Venuti. Conductor Holman chose instead hornman Al Cohn’s arrangement as a springboard to something right out of a 1930s burlesque hall. The drive of muted speakeasy trumpets and an evocative bump and grind rhythm section set the saucy mood. But it was the slinky trombones that got so low down and dirty I thought they’d summon the ghost of Gypsy Rose Lee right then and there.
Part way through Moonglow I noticed an unusual tightness in the corners of my cheekbones. I then realized I had been grinning to such a wide extent it was becoming painful, but I just couldn’t stop it.
It was a terrific first half, and ended on an even higher note thanks to Hamp’sBoogie Woogie, an uptown jitterbug from 1944, with Lionel Hampton’s vibes conjured up on Billy Ruegger’s guitar.
One of the most interesting aspects of the evening was the fact the first half was dedicated to vibraphonists, while the lead parts intended for vibes were transferred to other instruments. Ruegger and his 1955 Gibson ES-175 were called upon time and again for solos across the evening, and rose above and beyond the occasion each and every time.
But then, solos were offered up all around, with pianist Jacob Gelber and drummer Fred Griggs standing out when they weren’t providing the backbone for everyone else to stand upon, and special mention goes out to the phenom on bass, Nick Dunston.
Each and every member of the horns had solos, which varied wonderfully, and they all made the most of them. From the highest cutting edge of the trumpets and flugelhorns blown by Joe Gullace, Krystopher Williams, Dustin Beardsley and Andrew Digrius, to the wonderful wallow from Lauren Wood’s baritone sax, the muscled altos hoisted by Adrian Condis, and Ryan Park-Chan who was presented with this year’s Director’s Award for Commitment and Achievement, to the wailing tenors taken to task by Sam Torres and Luca Provenzano, and those gliding, barking bones punched out into the audience by Chris Misch, Dan Simms, Spencer Randle and Jack Noble, the entire ensemble was excellent, and the solos of each rose like flares off the roiling surface of the musical sun that lit up the Appel room from start to finish.
And that was only up to the intermission.
Stefon Harris: You look happy, and that makes me happy (photo: T. Oduyoye)
The second half opened with the introduction of Stefon Harris, an award winning composer and front man for his own ensemble, Blackout, who have earned four Grammy nominations.
The first number was a warm and buoyant rendition of Hoagy Carmichael’s The Nearness of You followed by four Stefon Harris compositions. Harris said he choose the name Blues for Denial for the work commissioned by Jazz at Lincoln Center in tribute to Milt Jackson and Lionel Hampton, because it’s hard to play.
He then proceeded to ask the audience for a starting note. Settling on two that were hummed, he began to improvise, at times accompanied by his own voice, sometimes laughing, sometimes scatting along with the notes ringing off the vibes. Rising in tempo and complexity, he came to an abrupt halt, letting the chimes of the last exhilarating run sustain out into the ether before the band joined in for a bopping hothouse of mile-a-minute Jazz.
Part acrobat, part magician, Harris enveloped himself in the round and ringing tones from his vibraphone, only to switch to the woody plunk and rolls of a marimba. But whether his mallets were hammering away at metal or rosewood, or stretching wide to play both at once, he coaxed out melody and raised cacophony like a shaman communing with his spirit guides.
The second Harris composition was a joyful excerpt from a 2007 concert-length suit he calls Dancing Moon, Laughing Stars, commissioned for the 150th anniversary of the Unitarian Church, beautifully arranged for the orchestra by Matt Holman.
Harris confided that it happened to be his 14th wedding anniversary, but then assured the audience that he and his wife had already been celebrating for two weeks, one day for each year, so we wouldn’t worry about him getting in trouble for being truant. And then the orchestra joined him for Let’s Take a Trip to the Sky, written for his wife in 2012. This expansive composition proved transportive. I cannot tell you where my mind traveled to with the soundtrack provided by Harris’ mallets and Holman’s young musicians, but it was a mellow, unhurried place of sweet breezes and cool waters. I was loathe to leave it, until I heard the next tune.
I think my favorite piece was the last. The Velvet Couch has an infectious funky 70s groove punctuated by big, brassy phrasing, pulsing bass runs, and a hip-swinging melody that could have been the theme from some mod caper movie with a cast including James Coburn, Sidney Poitier, and Raquel Welch.
And then, they chose to end the evening as it started, with Benny Goodman, as Harris, Holman, and the orchestra returned for an encore and lit up the Appel room one final time with a jet-fueled rendition of Flyin’ Home.
As Stefon Harris put it, supporting an organization such as the New York Youth Symphony Jazz Orchestra is vitally important, “celebrating creativity, celebrating diversity, celebrating tolerance, all these incredible values we hope to instill in our society. It is not just about making great musicians. It is about providing opportunities for people to dream really big.”
And while it is a good and important thing to provide opportunity for our youth to learn, and grow and enrich our culture and society, this is also wonderful entertainment. I mean, come on! World-class big band Jazz, at Lincoln Center, for $20? This is an extraordinary value, and spectacular music, performed spectacularly. So keep on the lookout for their next concert.
It is a wonderful way to spend an evening. Or for that matter an afternoon.
So bring the kids, as you will rarely get a chance to take them to Carnegie Hall at those prices for the thrilling experience of a full classical orchestra, live and in person. And if you don’t have kids, borrow some. Or at least bring a friend. They will be impressed.
And that is one man’s word on…
Lincoln Center Jazz with Stefon Harris and the New York Youth Symphony Jazz Orchestra
Tartan Week is winding down in New York City, and I am pleased to have witnessed one of the most satisfying events – the Pipes and Fiddle Concert at Jalopy, in Brooklyn, on Thursday evening.
There was an opening section featuring players who frequent the weekly Monday night Scottish music session at Iona, in Williamsburg, which was blazing good fun. And then a series of very special guest artists from out of town took the stage and raised the roof on the place.
The award-winning multi-instrumentalist Troy MacGillivray topped a bill that included fiddler extraordinaire Katie McNally and her pianist Neil Pearlman. And not to be out shown, Ben Miller likewise performed a thrilling set on the small pipes in duet with his musical partner, fiddler Anita MacDonald. There wasn’t an untapped foot among the audience all night long. But with such vigorous music throughout, foot stomping was more often the case.
It has been at least three years since I performed at Jalopy, that quirky, delightful theater in Brooklyn, just around the corner from the Battery Tunnel entrance, in the less-traveled area between Carroll Gardens and Redhook. There one can take music lessons, buy used guitars, have dinner and a pint, and see all sorts of live performances, six nights a week. All in an intimate setting, with high ceilings, brick walls, rows of church pews, and a real stage with a top notch sound system, run by a top notch soundman.
When I played there, I was appearing as a member of the Highland Shatners, and on a bill with Bargainland. Both acts do some traditional Celtic music in a less than traditional way, as well as more contemporary fare. And there was a member of both bands taking part in the concert I saw last night.
Matt Diaz, aka Flutie Shatner, was sitting in during the first section, strumming time in the Celtic DADGAD tuning on his Lowden guitar, made in Northern Ireland for just such occasions. Diaz was also responsible for the exhibit of photographs lining the theater walls, featuring players from traditional music sessions, like the one at Iona. In fact, there appeared to be included at least one photo of every person on the stage, among many others. The exhibition of photos will be up for another two weeks.
Karen Brown, of Bargainland, with whom I have shared many a Burn’s Night Supper and Scots music concert, was the chief organizer of the event, and took her place next to Matt to contribute some fine fiddling, along with her magnificent Scottish brogue during introductions.
After a boisterous opening session by all of the Iona sessionists, there were featured a series of players in mini-sessions, often accompanied by guitarist Max Carmichael, on a well played-in Gibson J-45 (in what appeared to be Drop D tuning.) The fiddle of Calum Michael took up the banner first, followed by Amy Beshara, Andrew Forbes, and John Nevin. Each did themselves proud and the overall musicianship was truly outstanding. But if anyone stole the red ribbon from the rest, it had to be Ms. Beshara. The infectious joy that beamed from her and her fiddle strings was reflected by the audience, and set us up for all that came after.
Piper Ben Miller hails from Edinburgh, Scotland, but grew up in Upstate New York. His partner, the fiddler-violist Anita MacDonald, was born and raised on Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia. Their destinies joined when they met during a Celtic music festival and appeared to be very much in lockstep, given the fast-paced jigs and strathspey dance tunes they tossed off in absolute unison during their section of the concert. Afterwards, I discovered they were aged 25 and 22 years, respectively, and each of these excellent musicians picked up their instruments while in grammar school. Both humbly insisted they had a long way to go. As I have often recognized in fellow guitarists, there isn’t a serious player, on any level, who doesn’t feel that way in some respects or have at least one other musician they only wish they could play like. I am sure there are plenty out there who wish they could play like Miller and MacDonald.
While much of the evening was filled with folk music and dance tunes from the Celtic tradition of Scotland, Brittany, Nova Scotia, and the Galicia region of Northern Spain, there were several modern, original compositions offered up as well. These included the hypnotic “Tombs” performed on a low whistle by Andrew Forbes, during the concert’s opening section, as well as the beautiful pieces played beautifully by guest fiddler Katie McNally
Ms. McNally and Mr. Pearlman are from Massachusetts, but the music they chose for their duets was from all over. McNally pointed out they weren’t playing “super” traditional selections, before playing a piece by “a Bangladeshi Bluegrass player from Wisconsin.” Masterful and energetic, their set filled the theater with aural radiance, as Pearlman’s rhythmic undercurrents and jazzy, spontaneous swells rose up to fill in and around McNally’s soaring melodies.
And then it came time for Troy MacGillivray. More than one of the participating musicians referred to him as their “hero” and so expectations were high when he took the stage for the final section of the concert. His performance was higher still. A recipient of the queen’s Diamond Jubilee Medal for outstanding contributions to culture in Canada, the native of Lanark, Nova Scotia plays a long list of musical instruments. Tonight he performed a rousing piano duet with Neil Pearlman, and then picked up the fiddle that made him famous to calmly wow the crowd, while generously offering various members of the ensemble the opportunity to share the stage as accompanists.
As satisfying as the entire concert was, it was a privilege to sit in the front row and watch the nuanced performance that unfolded at the end of the evening. I feel sorry for those who were unable to stay long enough to see MacGillivray’s final set of jigs that made me want to push all the pews to back and open up a dance floor, even if I don’t know a single step.
As the midnight hour approached, the headliner asked the other two guest fiddlers to join him for an impromptu jam. So with Neil Pearlman on piano, MacGillivray, McNally, and MacDonald got down, opened up, and took off, to the delight of everyone fortunate enough to witness it, and stomp along from the audience. That also included Pearlman and MacDonald who each left their instrument for a time and broke into a spontaneous dance. And then the young Andrew Forbes was inspired to leap up the steps to the stage, with his border pipes strapped on, and joined in without missing a beat. Together they brought the evening to a spectacular finish.
Karen Brown said afterwards that there is every expectation for a similar concert next year. But if you cannot wait that long to get your fix of fiddle sticks, DADGAD tuning, and the border pipes, do feel free to stop by Iona, on Grand Street in Williamsburg for some pints on Monday nights, as there you will find many a talented musician taking part in the weekly session. And if you are a musician yourself who would like to join in, all the better.
And for those who missed the concert this year, here is a taste of the final jam session.
And that is one man’s word on…
The Pipes and Fiddle Concert at Jalopy
For more information on the session at Iona, click HERE
To see more of Matt Diaz’s photos of traditional session musicians, click HERE (coming soon)
