It is 12:36 AM, and now April 21st. This means that I've been in Massachusetts for 18 days. My plan was to leave shortly after the NEC Wind Ensemble played Donald Miller Piece on the 16th, but when the two bombs went off in Copley Square on Marathon Monday, I felt the urge to suspend any travel plans, and spend more time with my family. I am currently in my hometown, in the house we moved into when I was ten years old. I don't intend to stay here very long before going back to my Nana & Granddad's house, and I can't shake the need to be writing about this stuff right now. Shortly before I left Boston, I went around the perimeter of the barricade surrounding Copley, and it's really strange. I hope the area can return to some sort of normal state soon. I usually spend a decent amount of time there (it's close to NEC, but just far enough away to be away).
Boylston Street at the Barricade on April 17th (photo by Matt Gilbert)
All of this weeks events (the Marathon bombings, as well as my premiers) coincide with my getting deeper into the pages of Haruki Murakami's 1Q84, and I can't help but note the kind of insight that this book has given me. It's a strange thing, and as I had told my best friend this past week, "Words fail me sometimes, as you know." Since I began reading 1Q84, I have been noting certain passages that stuck out for one reason or another. Like in Donald Miller Piece, it seems like at any given point this month, there have been six or seven things happening simultaniously, and various fragments from Murakami's book have spoke to several of them. That's the best I can do with my words, and below are some of his:
"What did it mean for a person to be free? ...Even if you managed
to escape one cage, you were just in another, larger one."
"This marks a borderline... From now on, I will no longer be the person I was"
"It's nothing I could talk about to anyone. No, I can't go to a doctor. I have to solve this on my own."
"Do not get abandoned in the Cat Town."
"What happens from here on out is unknown territory for anybody. There's no map. We don't find out what's waiting for us around the next corner until we turn it. I have no idea."
- Haruki Murakami (1Q84)
I don't know now when I'll be leaving MA, but I do know that I need a few more days to decompress. The bombing aside, this month has retained a fast pace, and I'm glad I have some time to chill out, reading about the Town of Cats.
Where did March go (I'm freaking serious...)?...? ???
I really meant to write about a couple things sooner, one being the two weeks I spent in Boston this past month. I may have said a few things before I went, but the last week has been crazy up here, and at the moment, my mind is racing (possibly, from the two cups of coffee I consumed before playing with the Balagan tonight). In some cases, a racing mind isn't the best thing, but this is a rather pleasant bout of thoughts.
Let's start with the most recent thing. This week, the Balagan decided that we were going to crash an April Fools Art Auction in which an "item" of ours (basically, a surprise Balagan performance/flashmob at the event of your choosing) was being auctioned off to benifit a local arts fund. It was very low key, and everyone showed up right before we started to play - no time for warming up or anything. I think we took some people by surprise, but I'm sure some had caught on to what we were doing. The auction was held at 242 Main Street, a mid-sized Blackbox type of space. I think there were somewhere between 20-26 people there in all, and it felt really neat to just come on and off. It reminded me a little bit of The Stone in NYC, how compact it was, and the way people were seated. I think Ben Aleshire won our item. I don't know him personally, but I've heard he's a neat Burlington artist/writer, who wrote an equally neat article about the Old North End, where a good number of Burlington's art/music people live.
I slept in this morning until about 11:30, recovering from a barrage of Easter weekend musical activities, which included a Good Friday service, a non-related Samba gig (with some members of the Balagan), and an Easter service. Since I got back (less than 2 weeks ago), I've been able to keep pretty busy with various gigs, rehearsals, shows, and new pieces I've been asked to write, at a rather quick pace. Two of the newbies are getting played in Boston next week, and they've really taken shape up here:
excerpt from _5 Chilcot_ __. for solo bass (4/10 premiere - Andrew Chilcote's recital @ NEC)
Excerpt from _8b _yde (b) for solo percussionist (4//1 premiere - Eliza Kinney's recital @ NEC)
There are two other new-ish pieces being played on 4/12 and 4/16. The 4/12 performance is at the Advent Library in Downtown Boston. Other than a solo flute piece that I wrote over the summer (from the same series as the two above), I have no idea what I'm going to do. Allison Poh is going to play the hell out of it, though. Come out!
Excerpt from _11 Summer _23 for solo flute (4/12 premiere - Advent Library in Downtown Boston)
We read the Wind Ensemble piece last year (around this time), and I thought the session came out well enough to ask Charles Peltz (NEC director of Wind Ensemble activities) if we could have a second reading, or perform it. I was only slightly surprised by a quick and enthusiastic response to my proposal. After the reading, I remember Mr. Peltz telling me "I live to make composers happy." I seriously believe this, and I hope to find more conductors out there who think the same way.
Back to Burlington: After getting stuck in Boston due to Icy conditions, I returned on 3/21. Probably the first thing to really happen (ther than alot of serious reading and napping) was that the Balagan played at a memorial service for Brian Perkins' Mother-in-Law. Brian is one of the more proactive organizers in the Balagan, particularly when it comes to keeping rehearsals flowing, and we had a really great quorum of people for that performance. We all drove out to Middlebury, and played outside while people were entering the church, and added a few more tunes indoors before the service began. I can't express how much I love playing at community-oriented things like this. There's a part of it that's indescribable for me, but above all, there's an element of communication between band members and our audience that isn't met in some other settings.
Four nights later, we were playing at the Bean - opening for a really incredible band called the Underscore Orkestra. Most of them are from Portland OR, but the have toured all over, and have a strong network of musicians all over the continent. They just came back from a tour in Australia, and I was more than surprised and delighted to see Enrico Solano (percussion) in their Burlington lineup. We spent a year in the CI program at NEC, and he's now living in NYC. What's great is that he met the band about 8 years ago in Mexico City when they were touring. These are the kind of chance meetings and lasting connections that musicians like us are really searching for.
My last week in Boston was particularly eventful. I played with the Boston College wind ensemble on St. Patrick's day at the Natick High School, in a concert shared by their concert band, and the Metropolitan Wind Symphony. Before the concert, I ran into Dan Lasdow, who was my first music teacher - ever. He retired as the music director of my hometown school system when I was 13, but he's still playing, and sounds as good as ever. It was great to run into him, and I'll be going back to my hometown to play in an alumni band under his direction in May.
Also notable from that same week is the 2 hours of music that Elan Asch and I recorded in NEC's Organ classroom, with another friend of ours, Ian Headley behind microphone placement and mixing. Not all of it is up yet (these are big files), but here's the first one, and a picture. Below the picture is a field recording that Ian made when he was in Venice, and happened upon a fisherman's protest of new regulations. As he pointed out, they share some sonic characteristics.
R
recording with Elan Asch
There's one more thing I need to clack about before I tie up this post. My good friend Ben Wu has left Boston for his native Michigan. We did our master's at the same time, and ended up doing alot of playing together. He's currently deciding on where to do his DMA (he has two offers), and I hope we get to play again sometime soon. A day or two before I left, we did some duo playing at the BU CFA, and had dinner at a Korean place in Allston. We also watched a Don Hertzfeld movie, and went exploring in Harvard Square, where we found a new Insomnia Cookies (open til 3AM, and completely new to Boston. Can you imagine who their clientele must be at that hour?!).
All of this ties into what is Ben's world, and I've been fortunate to have a pretty strong association with him over the last two years in particular. As soon as I get the recording of our last session, I'll be posting it for sure!
I really haven't taken the time to write about my experiences with particular people before, but (perhaps using Ellington as a model) I think this would be a good place to start.
As far as I can remember, I met Sean in 2006, right around the time I had begun seriously thinking about applying to the C.I program at NEC. He was a transfer too, so he had alot of insights, and like me, he came from a composition program. He's a multi-instrumentalist, and had a classical upbringing. When I heard him play with Dominique Eade's ensemble, I knew I had to end up there. I still have that recording (from Spring 2007), but I won't post it. When I got to the Conservatory, Sean and I worked together a good amount, and I still like alot of what we did. The picture above was taken by our friend Amy Mills in JH 342 in the late months of 2007. My first recital at NEC (Winter 2008) featured a trio with Sean & Elden Kelly (another singer-songwriter type who improvised with us). That trio never fully gelled, but it was a lot of fun, and I feel like it definitely needed to happen.
My creative endeavors with Sean have been largely hit-or-miss, and I feel the need to emphasize this. Though it wasn't always natural, it was completely honest and I learned how to adapt to my musical surroundings really well. Later, we came up with some things that were really good. That sort of adaptation is something I've been dealing with increasingly up here in VT (the who and where), and it is one of the things that reminds me of Sean at this time. He showed me alot of music, including Qawwali (Sufi devotional songs), and a number of other things that changed how I listened to things, and what I listened for.
Qawwali of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan and Party
Eastern Surf Rock from the 70's
At NEC, we did two performances with 5 or 6 piece groups that involved spoken word. One of them was in Jordan Hall (we used music from Brian Eno, and text from E.B White). This was on an annual concert called CONCERT-X, where students could literally sign up to have a performance in Jordan Hall in october or november each year. It's a shame that they don't do that anymore, but everything changes, and that's the way of the world.
I think we worked best in trio settings, but I remember playing alot of duo things in the practice room. We almost always played on two pianos, though Sean was most often heard on guitar. I really love Sean's piano playing.
Two trios I remember very well are those we did with Derek Beckvold (3 performances), and Richard Saunders (2 performances). You can find a couple of them them below. One is from my Senior recital. Sean now lives in Brooklyn, but he was still in Boston at the time. Both of these performances were hastily prepared, but I think that's how we work best. We'd done Hello Old Friend with Derek once before (the previous semester), and Busway Song was initially a duo from Hankus Netsky's Songwriting workshop. I didn't feel comfortable singing it again, and Sean was catching a cold. We tracked down Richard, and he sang it for this performance (on a Tuesday Night New Music in Brown Hall).
"Hello Old Friend" (2010) with Derek Beckvold
"Busway Song" (2008) with Richard Saunders
Sean Graduated in 2009 (a year before me), and moved to NY in 2011. I most recently visited him there in September, and we played a couple sets at Goodbye Blue Monday over the summer. He does alot of solo work, plays with a few different bands, and has a duo with his brother Griffin (an organ major at Juilliard). The people here in Burlington operate in a sort of similar way as Sean, and perhaps me writing this post right now (at 2AM with a huge mug of tea) is my way of expressing that I will visit him again soon, or that he should visit us up north.
Sean at Goodbye Blue Monday (Bushwick) in June 2012
Last Saturday, I took the bus down to Boston for what turned out to be another slightly extended (but eventful) trip. Unlike the past couple of times I've gone, I took a late morning bus. This got me to town around 3pm. Though I was staying in JP, I went directly to the Conservatory to drop off some of my stuff. I ended up sticking to that area until 7:30 or so. This gave me time to have lunch and do a bit of playing. The week before was a busy one in terms of performances, so the horn stayed in its case for a few days.
Later, I met up with Mark and our friend Daniel Pencer - a great reed player who I'm writing a tenor saxophone piece for. We drove out to Union Square in Somerville to hear this concert on the open sound series. We were all feeling pretty hungry, so we skipped out on the last set, but what we heard, I really liked. The first 3 sets were: Orlando Cela playing contemporary flute solos (one of which was Cassandra's Dream Song by Brian Ferneyhough), a pianist (name forgotten) who played a movement from a Michael Finnissy piece, and a Banjo Duo from the Berkshires playing a medley of very well-disguised and deconstructed pop hits! The Finnissy that was played is represented in the video below, with the score:
I lived about 7 minutes from Union Square in September, but I didn't really explore it that much. After the concert, Mark took us to this really great Indian restaurant next door. It was a bit pricy, but totally worth it. If I move back to Boston, Somerville would be a great place to live. It's fairly removed from the rest of the metro area, and it's price is comparable to VT as well.
The next morning, I woke up having some epileptic issues, and ended up catching a few extra hours of sleep. I took it real easy that entire day, but I felt great on the day of the show at Weirdo. Andrew (who played on the 1/9/13 trio in VT) opened with two new songs, then played duo with Andy Allen. I'd been thinking about doing a melodica solo, so I worked up Nonaah by Roscoe Mitchell, and FCTM closed. Tara and I really seem to thrive after long breaks, but I do hope we can play more often. Our next scheduled performance is with the NEC Wind Ensemble on 4/16 (tax day!). Angela (the owner of Weirdo) took video of everyone's set, which you can see below. There were a good number of people there, including a few that nobody knew. I love playing for new folks, and I thought the whole thing was great:
The next day, all the offices at NEC had opened and I got the parts for the 4/16 performance to the ensemble library. I had originally planned to get out of Boston on Wednesday, but changed my ticket to Thursday so I could see a few more people, and relax a bit. I had lunch with Joe Morris, and the Contemporary Improvisation department had a retrospective concert Tuesday night. Alot of my friends were involved in this, and I'm really glad I didn't have to get up so early the next morning. Before the concert, they had a panel with Ran Blake, Tanya Kalmanovich, Allan Chase, Hankus Netsky, and Gunther Schuller, during which I was sucked into doing a quick copy job (one of the big band people lost their saxophone part). I got paid, but it would have been nice to just sit and listen. They had some pretty interesting stories!
My last full day in town began at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum with Clare. When I worked there for the Earle Brown Symposium last month, they gave me a couple of free passes. I'd been there a couple of times before for concerts, but never really for more than an hour. When you walk through it, there only a few maps and little blurbs. For the most part, everything is unlabeled. This makes it feel more like the house it was, I'm sure. I love that place, and I definitely want to go back again soon.
The rest of the day involved going up to Weirdo again to retrieve a sweater I left there, and getting some new music. I ended up with No Doughnut in Hand, an album of vocal improvisations by Phil Minton. I listened to it on the bus home yesterday, and am still speechless. What a strange, awesome musician he is.
I met up with a few people when I got back to the NEC area, including Allison Poh, a flutist who's digging into a piece of mine. We met for about an hour, and whenever she plays it for an audience, it's going to be really sweet.
I'm going back in less than two weeks for a performance of another piece in the same series. My friend Matt Ebisuzaki asked me to write it for his recital on March 9th. It's the only piece in the series that's not a solo (there's going to be a cellist), and it utilizes a transparent sheet of blank staff paper. I'm looking forward to hearing the result.
It's been one hell of a week here in Burlington, and this shows no sign of letting up soon (I'm headed to Boston on Saturday to play at Weirdo Records again!)
On Monday, I played my first show with the Brass Balagan. This has to be the most fun I've had playing music in a long time. We were playing in a fundraiser for the Spielpalast Cabaret at Muddy Waters (a cabin-like coffee shop on Main Street), and there had to have been at least 70 people there - probably more. They were all dancing, and the band was fairly mobile as well. When I started playing with the Balagan, I recognized some of their tunes from an ensemble I took at NEC. That ensemble was directed by Dave Harris, who told us "It's much better to play for 100 people dancing." I fully understand now that he was right.
Yesterday, I slept in, and finished a whole bunch of copywork. I wanted to practice for my solo set at the Radiobean, but decided that it would be better to practice mentally rather than go in with set ideas. I think I made the right choice. I'm still feeling pretty lucid from the two sets I played (one solo, and the other with Arthur Brooks and Anthony Santor), and I'm glad I went in there without any physical preparation for my solo set. I definitely did alot of pre-planning, and listening, but my goal for the next solo set I do is to play with absolutely no pre-conception. I recently have found that the things I didn't plan in a solo performance are always the things that sound and feel the best. I'd like to try this with that fact being a goal.
Also, my theory of repetition is proving to be a winner. I always find that the cycles I get into (within an improvised performance) are really interesting, but they never go on long enough. This is something that has improved in the last couple of months, but still needs work. The next time I plan a 30-minute solo set, it will have 2 or 3 ideas that I'll really stick to - you can hold me to that! For now, here's what we did tonight. I'm really liking it, and as always, I'm looking forward to doing more:
Tomorrow, Balagan is playing for a march protesting violence against women. For this occasion, the point person asked me to do an arrangement of the pop hit You Don't Own Me by Lesley Gore. The band is playing it really well, and I'm looking forward to doing it in a performance situation. The Brass Balagan is definitely a physical band, I love the energy that goes into their performances.
The Balagan - pre 2013
That ought to be a great time. In other news I went to a flea market with a fellow Balaganer named Bob Belcher (no relation) and found a perk coffee maker for $2. In addition to braking my "no coffee in VT" rule, this brought back serious memories of camping trips, and life in general back in the day, helping remind me that I'm New England as all hell!
The entrance to UVM's Library, behind the Royall Tyler Theatre
I've realized in the last several weeks that one of my patterns is to spend time on the UVM campus to get work done, particularly in their main library. on an average of three or four days a week, you'll find me there.
This is outside of practicing for performances and (now bi-monthly) church jobs. Had I not passed through the entire UVM campus to get to my workplace, I don't think I'd spend as much time there now. It's become a second home, in a way. This is in no small part due to the expanse and open nature of both the library, and the entire campus. And, despite this openness, being in the library and looking out the window is reminiscent of being surrounded by a huge skyline. This is still something I often think about and miss. Indeed, there is a UVM skyline from this view. Doing my work in the Bailey-Howe library is great. There's a built-in cafe where I can access the web with an ethernet cable, and eat when I need to. I usually bring a sandwich, trail mix, and tea. Even when the cafe is closed, people can go behind the counter and fill containers with hot water. I've yet to pull an all-nighter, but that area is open 24/7.
The UVM skyline
More recently, I've been taking advantage of their book collection. I can't check books out, but I can read whatever I want when I'm there. This being a university, what I'm about to say might sound silly, but a great epiphany of mine was to look around and realize, "Wow. I could read about almost anything from the books they have here."
Another realization I had, though quite a long time ago, is that I don't have alot of stuff. Aside from the two plastic drawers I own and two small-ish tubs of clothing, I'm looking around my room, and can count 4 small to mid-sized moving boxes. Most of them haven't been unpacked, and they contain only books, CD's, and sheet music. I now own only two brass instruments, and a small chord organ. The organ lives in a suitcase, which also contains most of my handwritten scores. From 2011 until recently, most of my music was handwritten. I put some things into finale during that time, but only when I found it difficult to read when handwritten (vocal music mostly), or if it was for a large group of people (the one wind ensemble piece I've written in recent history).
I work as a music copyist and arranger, and in January I bought a second laptop to better facilitate this work. The laptop was owned by a friend, and had all of the software I needed to do my work. With that computer came a whole lot of extra GB's of storage. Because of that storage, I'm currently transferring my CD collection to this laptop and backing it up. When this process is complete, I'll be able to let most of my CD's go. There are a few that I want to hang on to, but most of them will go. That's one less box I'll have to deal with.
I'll hang onto a lot of my books, and of course any personal letters that I've received, but I'm sure I can find a way to get rid of some of that mass, or at least fit them into a more efficient box. The content of the plastic drawers is mostly paper. Some of this paper is important, but I imagine I can thin out a good bit. This gets easier every year, and now that I'm not in school, I'm not constantly bringing home tests, packets, or other things that get stored away like this...
The two tubs of clothing have come in handy, but I imagine that they will be replaced rather than expanded over time. The lack of wooden chests is something that continues to make my life easier. The only reason I had to rent a U-Haul trailer to get up here was the size of my mattress, and I'll add that I'm thinking of downsizing to a twin bed (when it's time to leave this town).
My main source for reading has become the library. Anything else, I can dig out of my two boxes of books, or find on the internet. I've still been watching TED talks like a crazy person, and the one below is a good example of something I'm maybe trying to get at (though I know getting rid of what little I have won't solve all of my money issues).
While I'm not trying to be an evangelist for simplification, I'm definitely finding the idea of it beneficial to my state of mind, physical health, and day-to-day dealings. I also think that this will translate to my future. A few years ago I told a roommate that If I had to move tomorrow and start life in a new place, I could. This still rings true, perhaps now with greater volume than ever.
Well, we're 13 365ths into 2013, and I'm back to VT from Massachusetts. I returned on Tuesday. I didn't mean to take such a long break from being here, but I'm glad I did. It rained yesterday, and it's been hovering around 40 degrees ever since - getting to see a whole bunch of snow without the sidewalks flooding was good while it lasted.
I played my last church gig before 2013 on Christmas Sunday, and left VT later that night. Megabus thankfully ran on schedule, but their weekend busses leave at 11am, and 8pm. So, I got into Boston a little before midnight, and headed over to Somerville. I was staying with my friend Casey Kent, who I lived with for 3 years before I moved to VT. We go way back to middle school, though we weren't uber close until we both ended up at schools in Boston. The only thing that was a bit off about going to visit Casey in Somerville is that Pumpkin (Casey's cat) doesn't seem to remember me that well, but you can only ask a cat to remember so much I guess...
"Pumpkin"
I wanted to eat something when I got in, but even Davis Square was out by the time I got there. Casey and her boyfriend Ryan live on a street right off Broadway on Winter Hill. I took a cab there because I didn't feel like waiting for the last bus. When I got to Casey's, I was quickly handed a bottle of cold beer. "Have this one," said Casey. "When you visit, We'll give you all the beers we don't like." Apparently, there's a huge liquor outlet near Lechmere station with heavily discounted bottles. They try new ones all the time, and don't like some of them, but I'm not going to argue with any offer of free beer (I have another story about that later).
The next morning, we got up and went to this diner in Ball Square, about 20 minutes walking from where they live. It was a nice place (Somerville is loaded with good places to eat), and relatively cheap. Later, we drove down to East Bridgewater (our hometown) and parted ways. My father and stepmother have had a Christmas eve dinner party for the last few years, and it's always a good time to catch people who you won't see on Christmas day. I had a really great Christmas. When I gave people in my family their gifts, I unloaded most of what I came with. I was given much-needed winter clothing, and some giftcards. I spent the next few days there in East Bridgewater basically catching my breath. Though I managed to get out of the house every day, I really realized how active I have been up here. It's a good thing, but I was glad to have a rest. It was great to spend some time with my folks, and visit another new pub. It seems like every time I go back there, there's a new pub...
Around new years, I went up to Boston to see some friends, and do all of the fun things that don't happen up here, like riding the green line, visiting Russian grocery stores, walking across the Charles River, and going to hear music at Weirdo Records. I think I may have found my new favorite view of Boston, from the BU Bridge:
(I didn't take this, but it's a pretty accurate representation of what I saw then)
After Mark Johnson's set at Weirdo, I went to a new year's eve party hosted by my friend Brett Walfish, who lives in a large building on Huntington Avenue. I was staying with my friends Mark and Clare in JP, and though Mark was out of town for NYE, Clare (like Brett, a violist) was there, along with Ben Wu. Ben and Clare have become two of my closest friends, and we've done two shows as a trio. our Weirdo set, along with out set at YES OUI SI (coincidentally the last show they had before shutting down) were definitely highlights of my year.
Clare and I spent the next two days wandering around Boston, drinking lots of Starbucks (due to giftcards), and cooking. We also watched probably over 3 hours worth of TED talks on Youtube. If you haven't skimmed these, I highly recommend them. There's alot of interesting stuff on there, and I keep going back - watching, and re-watching.
Before coming back up north, I made another trip to see my family. This time to Middleboro, where my Nana and Granddad live. My uncle Dan and his wife Azusa were visiting from Austin. They just moved there from L.A, and they come out here pretty infrequently. It's always fun to see them when they come in. My cousin Miona is 2 1/2 now, and ever more friendly.
Dan and Miona
When I passed through Boston again, NEC had reopened, and I visited Jordan Hall to practice organ one day. I discovered upon arrival to the room with the working organ that it was missing its pedalboard. This made for a very interesting practice session. I found a couple of bass notes, that I could gently hold down with my toes (while the pedals were missing, the little metal stubs that further trigger production of sound were functional). Clare was also practicing in Jordan at the time, and after we were both finished, we met up to play a little. As a viola/piano duo, we work pretty well coming up with short little pieces. I'm hoping we can record sometime soon. It's sort of cartoonish, how short and varied our little pieces are. the tracks could be titled Classical, Pointillistic, Minimalism etc - somewhat in jest, but it also is how we come up with a unified scheme for these little things.
Last Tuesday, I returned to Burlington to play a show at the ArtRiot Space with a bunch of different folks. Cowboy Band, Cult & Leper, and Friendship Ceremonies (Andy Allen) are all folks that I went to school with who were on tour. ArtRiot is new gallery that's part of a converted industrial complex about 6 blocks south of Downtown Burlington. It's on Pine street, which is quite separated from the more residential part of the South End. Musicians in particular really like this, because it means that they can be as loud or quiet as they need to be, without any kind of potential for interference.
This was a great homecoming for me, and it was awesome to see everyone up here. I played a trio set with Andrew Clinkman (of Cowboy Band), and Sam Lisabeth (of Cult & Leper). I recorded it, and here's what I thought came out the best:
Everyone's set was great, and we had a pretty big audience, which grew and peaked around the time that Cowboy Band played. Cowboy Band puts a great big noisy spin on old country songs, and I thought it was terrific. I sort of regret not getting a copy of their CD (they have only one track on their soundcloud), but I'll get on that someday. One tune in particular stood out to me, their rendition of "Hallelujah, I'm a bum," heard below as sung by the great Harry Mclintock:
The next night, I went to the Radiobean to catch Arthur Brooks' Ensemble Five, and they asked me to play with them. The bassist (Anthony Santor) is a friend of Andy Allen's, and he recognized me from the show the night before. I had a blast playing with them, and I was particularly struck by the cellist (a guy named Nelson Caldwell), who I'd never heard of. I knew about Arthur and Anthony, but I think not knowing Nelson made his playing have a great impact. They play at the Radiobean every month, and I think they'd be interested in doing more if we can create the opportunity for it. Since Anthony was at the show the night before, he was telling Arthur and Nelson about the space, and they seemed very interested. I'm looking forward to playing with them again.
After our set, we met a guy named David, who told us that after missing the last bus to Winooski (the next town over), he decided to come have a drink. He said he liked what we did, and before the set he asked us if we were a blues band. "No," Arthur replied. "We are a sound band." Nelson and I stuck around for a bit to catch the Irish Sessions band, and we ended up sitting with David, who insisted on buying us a round. I was sort of confounded, but as I've said before I think people in Burlington are just friendly. After Nelson left, David kept buying beers, and I left when the fiddlers stopped (around 12am). I don't normally find myself in situations where I get drunk with complete strangers while listening to live Irish music, but I didn't see any harm in it. David told me all sorts of stories, from his days in Brooklyn, to attending Quaker services, and I think we ended up with 4 or 5 more rounds before I called it a night. I thanked David for his generosity, and headed out quickly (the Bostonian in me comes out a bit in situations like this, where I don't really know someone). I'm not sure if we'll ever see David again, but this being a city of only 42,000 people, we could. It's been pretty quiet since then, but I'm going to rehearse with The Brass Balagan tomorrow afternoon. I met one of their trumpet players the night of the ArtRiot show, and contacted them the other day.
It's been a really great week here in VT, and I think it's times like this that give us strength to keep working. This Wednesday, I'm headed to Boston for the Earle Brown Symposium and a few other things, and as always, I look forward to returning.
