Fifty Years Ago Today

I was not in Washington fifty years ago today as Martin Luther King, Jr. gave his famous speech. My social conscience didn't really come alive until 1967-1968.

__________

Some two months earlier, on June 8, Pete Seeger stood in front of a packed Carnegie Hall and said:

“If you would like to get out of a pessimistic mood yourself, I got one sure remedy for you:
Go help those people down in Birmingham and Mississippi or Alabama.
All kinds of jobs that need to be done.
Takes hands and hearts and heads to do it.
Human beings to do it;
Then we'll see this song come true:

We shall overcome, we shall overcome,

We shall overcome someday;

Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe, 
We shall overcome someday.



We'll walk hand in hand, we'll walk hand in hand,

We'll walk hand in hand someday;

Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe,

We'll walk hand in hand someday.


We shall live in peace, we shall live in peace,

We shall live in peace someday;

Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe,

We shall live in peace someday.

The whole wide world around, the whole wide world around
The whole wide world around
Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe, 
We shall overcome someday.

We are not afraid, we are not afraid,

We are not afraid today;

Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe,

We are not afraid today


I encourage you to give a listen to Pete Seeger’s immortal version of this civil rights anthem. If a lump doesn’t rise in your throat, get thee to a doctor to find out what’s wrong with you.

(Note: this is the slightly edited version from the original vinyl album. The full version, two minutes longer, is available on disc or you can buy the single for $.99 from iTunes. You might also be able to hear it here, via my Dropbox folder: https://www.dropbox.com/s/rda9ok857dat3ly/2-18%20We%20Shall%20Overcome.m4a)

Sights and Sounds of Summer

Twenty-two years ago I committed to riding 91 roller coasters in 1991. It was an ambitious goal but several road trips and a couple flights made it possible. I visited parks in Connecticut, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New York, Pennsylvania and Ohio, as well as Virginia, North Carolina, Georgia and Texas. The sights and sounds of that summer included beautiful wooden coaster cathedrals; unbelievably high and steep metal monsters; screaming, happy children of all ages; hot dogs, fried dough and sno-cones -- and me, grinning from ear to ear in the front seat of some magic machine or another. That’s the Texas Giant pictured, my all-time favorite roller coaster (since torn down and rebuilt as a wooden/metal hybrid that I have not ridden).

Twenty-two years later the sights and sounds of my summer are decidedly different. They are mostly indoors and exclusively theatrical or musical, sometimes both.

In June I saw ABT (American Ballet Theatre) present a very enjoyable evening of three pieces by Alexie Ratmansky; enjoyable, but lacking the fireworks with which the departed Angel Corella regularly lit up this company. The next night Paulo Szot sang beautifully with the New York Philharmonic in a program of mostly musicals and standards and a week later the Philharmonic played Dukas and Stravinsky to perfection.

The International Festival of Arts and Ideas comes to New Haven every summer and this year brought one of the most creative Shakespeare productions I have ever seen: A Midsummer Night’s Dream by the Bristol Old Vic in association with Handspring Puppet Company. The same festival showcased a brilliantly sung rendition of the ethereal and haunting Rachmaninoff Vespers as well as the extraordinary performance that Ransom conducted, al fresco at Marsh Botanical Garden, of John Luther Adams songbirdsongs. My last festival event was Sequence 8, a compelling dance/theatre/acrobatic tour de force by the Canadians Les 7 doigts de la main, a gorgeous group of young gymnasts.

I visited the Norfolk Chamber Music Festival to hear Ransom perform Haydn and Mozart and to say goodbye to the famed Tokyo String Quartet at their last-ever public performance. Then back to New York for Michael Urie’s fabulous one-man show Buyer and Cellar, imagining what it would be like to work in Barbra Streisand’s underground mall – there really is such a thing. Read about the show here.

Venturing away from classical music I heard one of my favorite artists, Steve Forbert, at the intimate and classy Kate (Katherine Hepburn Cultural Arts Center) in Old Saybrook, and Emmy Lou Harris with Rodney Crowell at Caramoor. Both concerts were excellent and reminded me that aging baby boomers still like the music we've loved for decades (see picture); no Muzak for us, thank the gods.

The most intense electric music I heard all summer was in New Orleans, about which I just wrote. I bought El DeOrazio’s music when I got home and have been listening to it a lot. Their kick-ass live performance is more compelling, but check them out here and pay as much or as little as you wish.

This summer on Broadway I caught Nathan Lane in The Nance, saw the revival of Pippin and scored two good seats to the Tony winner for Best Musical, Kinky Boots. Sally was in town, about to board the Queen Mary 2 for a five-day cruise, and we both LOVED Kinky Boots. Who knew Cyndi Lauper could write a Broadway show? I also just saw Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike, this year’s Tony winner for Best Play. It was brilliant, with David Hyde Pierce delivering the most screamingly funny rant I have ever heard on stage. Alas, in an all-too-typical sign of tourists’ love of musicals over plays, it will have closed by the time you read this.

I managed four events at this year’s fringeNYC (New York International Fringe Festival) but only one is worth mentioning: Gotham Radio Theatre’s performance of The Awful Truth as a radio broadcast. I LOVE the 1937 Cary Grant/Irene Dunne film and this production was wonderfully inventive: five actors playing all the roles, creating the sound effects and reading the commercials. Delicious fun.

Earlier this summer there was also the voiceless opera about which I wrote on July 20: Michaels Reise um die Erde, a fascinating, disorienting and enchanting hour of music -- and, at the other end of the spectrum, a great outdoor event on the New Haven Green: K C and the Sunshine Band. Disco rocks!

Yale classes start on Wednesday, so summer is over for me. The final cultural event was one of the best: Louis Langrée leading the Mostly Mozart Orchestra in the last three Mozart symphonies. Each one is a perfect example of the composer’s craft; hearing all three at once was a rare thrill.

Summer might be over, but there’s a lot to anticipate in the coming months:

The opera season opens for us with Anna Nicole by Mark-Anthony Turnage at New York City Opera. I know nothing about her, but am always interested in new operas that got good reviews. Ransom and I are going on my birthday.

And on HIS birthday we're going to – sit down for this – Matilda on Broadway. Matilda! With all those kids. OMG! I'm optimistic that I will like it; everyone says it’s great. But all those kids! OMFG!

Later operas include Two Boys -- Nico Muhly, composer; Craig Lucas, libretto -- and Prince Igor – for the first time at the Met since 1915 -- as well as the shortened, English-language version of Julie Taymor’s brilliant production of Mozart’s The Magic Flute.

I am also looking forward to Romeo and Juliet, with Orlando Bloom, on Broadway, as well as A Streetcar Named Desire at Yale Rep, featuring True Blood’s Joe Manganiello (he of the sexy body and brooding look). And I'll return to the New York Philharmonic as they present 2001: A Space Odyssey with the image on screen and the soundtrack played live; the Boston Symphony will do the same with West Side Story in February, repeating a Tanglewood performance my brother said was outstanding. I am excited about both.

I am equally anticipating a BAM (Brooklyn Academy of Music) performance of Angelin Preljocaj’s dance/theatre work And then one thousand years of peace that I loved so much in Edinburgh last summer and wrote about on 20 August 2012.

Music I’m looking forward to includes Graham Nash in Tarrytown, NY, on September 29, the Yale Philharmonia’s Rite of Spring the week before and the NY Phil’s Mozart Requiem in November. Add to that the Brandenburgs with Ransom and the Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center as well as him conducting the Purchase orchestra three times this year and, well, as usual, it will be quite a dance card.

Come join me for a waltz!

More NOLA bits

I came for the music and have not been disappointed, as I hope you have read. But every bit as pleasurable has been the bike riding. I rented from the American Bicycle Rental Company (325 Burgundy St.) and have absolutely loved it. As you can see, it harkens back to the bikes I had as a kid: made in the USA with big thick tires, a comfortable seat, one gear and pedal-activated brakes – remember those? You pedal backwards to stop. It’s been a delight and I have seen far, far more of this city than I would have on foot.

My rental bike, a musician sculpture and the Mississippi River bridge in the background

Most of the music I have heard has been in bars and clubs, but New Orleans boasts a proud tradition of street musicians as well, and the guys here pictured were the best I heard. They are actually city-sponsored; I met the woman who contracts them, Leslie Cooper, Director of Music Street Production. She also runs the New Orleans Traditional Jazz Camp. We spent a delightful ten minutes chatting. I was on my bike when I first encountered the band, parading through the French Market. They stopped twice and played mini-sets at each location. It was almost like being at a Second Line.

Brass band at the French Market

Ransom and I talked about going to Preservation Hall for some more brass music tonight, but I'm not sure we're willing to pay the price: you show up, wait in line, and maybe get in. If you do, you might get a bench to sit on, or a floor cushion, but likely you stand. I’m afraid my standing-for-a-concert days are over, but we'll see.

I spent maybe 90 minutes at the aquarium and enjoyed that as much for the amazing fish and penguins as for the respite from the grueling heat. It is H-O-T in the Big Easy, that’s fo’ damn sure.

Next, thrills were had ogling the participants in yesterday’s Red Dress Run. Next time I need to do some research and make sure I pack the right outfit!

Finally, some miscellaneous shots:

Only at a flute convention would you see this

New Orleans mansions

St. Charles streetcar

Remembrance of things past

Blistering

Three more musical adventures in NOLA.

Yesterday morning I heard Ransom perform the Sonata No. 1 in A Major, Op. 13, originally written for violin by Gabriel Fauré. His accompanist was Kevin T. Chance, and though I of course cannot be objective, I thought they both played beautifully. It’s a piece I was not familiar with, so one that was full of lyrical surprises.

I then spent a couple hours riding my bike around this wonderfully flat city before heading to Bourbon Street to catch a three-piece electric blues/rock band at the Funky Pirate. Not sure of their name, but they put out a good vibe and I listened for about an hour; the highlight of their set was an audience favorite: The Weight, written by Robbie Robertson of – and for – the Band.

I then joined Ransom and three friends for a fantastic Cajun meal at Cochon. Three perfectly fried and delicately sauced chicken livers followed by the most fork-tender, intensely flavored pork I’ve ever tasted. Ransom had the only grits I have ever called excellent and everything else I sampled on the table was first class.

The four of them, all being classical musicians, headed back to the convention for another concert while I returned to Frenchman Street. After checking out a couple places I ended up back where I was the night before, at Café Negril, for some absolutely mind-blowing electric blues. El DeOrazio & Friends are three guitarists and a drummer making music so loud it would drive Ransom out of Louisiana, but that kept me grinning and bobbing. Each song lasted maybe ten minutes, most of which was an amazing jam that seemed totally improvised while also sounding tightly rehearsed. They were incredibly good; the music was blistering.

This trip is reminding me that I like all kinds of music. From Bach to Berlioz, McCartney to Hendrix, Dylan to Debussy – if excellent musicians perform it then it is likely excellent music, whatever the genre.

Music, music, music

As with almost any profession, there are affinity groups for classical musicians. The Guitar Foundation of America thrives via local chapters throughout the country. Oboists don’t have their own group but they meet with bassoonists in the International Double Reed Society. Musical America started as a magazine in 1898 and has, since 1960, published a directory of all classical music organizations, serving as a sort of town hall for all members of the profession.

But nothing comes close to the National Flute Association, which is right now hosting almost 2,500 flutists at its annual convention, this year in New Orleans. Ransom is one of those flutists, though, in fact, his main role is to conduct the final gala concert on Saturday night. I’m here too.

I will attend that Saturday concert and I will also hear him play one piece (a flute transcription of a Fauré violin sonata) on a concert this morning, but I'm mainly here for another kind of music – the kind that emanates from dozens of bars and clubs in this most musical of American cities.

Bourbon Street is known world over for its party scene, and there are lots of places to hear live music up and down its length. But that music strikes me as mainly engineered to get people to drink. It’s loud and brassy – even when there are no brass players involved. What it lacks in refinement it makes up in power and volume. Bar owners know that the louder the music, the more people drink. (What else can you do – you certainly cannot talk to your tablemates).

The music I came for is at a series of clubs on Frenchman Street, and at others in separate parts of the city. Last night I was particularly lucky. I was riding my rental bike past Café Negril and heard the classic Joe Zawinul / Cannonball Adderley piece Mercy, Mercy, Mercy booming from its open door. Even after locking up the bike and walking a block back to the club I still managed to hear another ten minutes of this smoldering tune that builds and builds only to start over and build again. (If you only know the rock version by the Buckinghams, click here to listen to the real deal.)

Last night's band was The Black Dragons (above, in a terrible shot, I know). I have no idea if they have a local or regional reputation, but for my money -- $3, the cost of a coke – they were excellent. Sax, trumpet, electric guitar, electric bass, keyboard and drums. They only played two other songs I knew: another classic, Mongo Santamaria’s Watermelon Man, and Gnarls Barkley’s hit from 2006, Crazy -- but their originals were thoroughly enjoyable. They were tight and beautifully balanced; I would have sworn there were more than two brass players on stage and the guitarist was as good as any rock axeman I’ve ever heard. I stayed for the rest of their set, a full ninety minutes.

On the way there I had encountered two street bands, roving musicians entertaining the tourists with some classic New Orleans jazz. I stopped for maybe ten minutes as I encountered each, and could certainly have stayed longer. It seems everywhere you turn in the Crescent City you have the chance of encountering fine music:

Street band on Frenchman Street last night.

And in case you didn't know, the title of this post comes from a 1950 hit tune. Do you know it?

Hint: it was sung by Teresa Brewer. Click here to listen.