‘Five Tables At A Cafe’

(If it means anything to anyone, I snapped these photos in rabid succession while reading about the minimalist and eclectic Robert Wilson, a piece in the recent The New Yorker by Hilton Als, especially “Einstein On The Beach”.


http://www.newyorker.com/arts/critics/atlarge/2012/09/17/120917crat_atlarge_als

The New York Times was relatively unimpressed.

Sometimes you have to cut and paste not merely click.

Now, a couple hours later, it actually looks more like twelve tables and six people although some of those six people might be the same person twice, if that is even possible. To what extent are we the same person twice, or more like a river, changing all the time? Sometimes I cannot help but feel that I am wasting all of my time.

 Fifteen tables and nine people?

I left the fifth and final shot of the series of five “unslugged” such that it would preserve the exact time stamp, a Saturday around 2.

Eighteen tables and fifteen people, comprising “Five Tables At A Cafe”, the article referenced three types of shots in “Einstein”, close-up, medium-shot and something the scope of which compares to the fact that Wilson grew up in Waco, Texas. That triggered my impulsive intrusion into the lives of my fellow Cafe Society members. Coinky or not, the last group, in the interior section where I was, left directly after this shot. I was shooting the couple against the window; between them you can see what used to be the entrance to the famous social media social network company, for what that’s worth -less than fifty billion dollars I would think.

I was shooting the couple, across the room, not the nearer group of actually three women (we see two here). Before I started shooting, some time before, I noticed the woman in green and that she was wearing a sorority shirt but it featured a Native American motif; I am guessing Florida State Seminoles, and almost had the nerve to approach the table and question her about it).

edit to add, a few minutes later: this is gratuitous non-coincidence just an overlap or something but I started quoting some old song lyric, because partly because the script for “Einstein…” apparently has some lyrics flung in there, but didn’t remember what I was referencing and when I typed in the lyric fragment to the search-injun it reminded me that it was Fleetwood Mac “Over My Head” by Christine McVie and that the first couplet has “paradise” and “cold as ice” and I thought of the fact but fairly trivial thing that when Wilson was a special ed teacher and trying to connect to his students he created, according to Als — maybe referencing the two or three other primary researchers writing about Wilson — a character named Ice Man, who carried blocks of ice “like suitcases” (which I couldn’t quite picture — did he fasten them with handles?). Also, and only my coach and my freshman roommate still recall this, my mock-nickname in high school, rhymes with “Weiss”, _ _ _. The true obsessive then searches for any other overlapping reference to “christine mcVie” and “einstein on the beach” but I will stop here.

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Burghers, bridges, and blessings

Four snaps on the theme of thread of public works, public art, chance encounters, history and such. A tad quotidian, admits.

First, as I strolled campus on a mid-day break, I noted the incoming freshman (2016) in team-building, social-media-intensive yet fun orientation projects, in groups of five or six, usually co-ed.

Devon from Pennsylvania indulged me in a shot next to the Rodins at the Quad. Not sure if the students’ project had them thinking any harder than I was about Rodin, Calais, Hundred Years War or Burghers. I didn’t realize, for instance, that Burghers, in the sense of commercial merchants, is the translation of the sometimes-cognate French word bourgeois. My European history is limited to one class with Wood and Lagomarsino, years ago (and for comparison, as far I as I know, my people, contemporaneous to the period depicted by Rodin, and nearly until the time of Rodin himself, were schutzjuden, meaning  a protected class of not-quite-full-citizens in Eastern Europe and Germany).

Five minutes earlier I accosted a group who were posing on a cover to what should be and perhaps again will be a Maya Lin kinetic sculpture, which is being repaired. They tolerated politely my brief art history lecture and then proceeded on with their fun.

Earlier in the day I had stopped traffic behind me for a second to snap an architectural detail in the form of perhaps frescoes of medical scenes at PAMF, the one I was trying to capture seems to be a homage to the work at the old PAMF, now Palo Alto Historical Society. It is small enough in scale not to stop traffic too significantly, I hope.

You have to squint, but if you look too closely you may go blind

Similarly, I snapped a rolling view recently of the spans of Bay Bridge. People with less than 30 years driving experience should not try this. I promise not to do it again.

My campus excursion included popping in on El Centro Chicano, at Old Union, on Lausen Mall and suddenly noticing the 1980 mural, more recently restored, by Jose Montoya, and more timely an new interior set of murals by Berkeley’s Juana Alicia (I think her apellido is Montoya tambien, but am unsure of a connection). The center is hosting a reception for Juana Alicia and the new murals on November 9, according to Frances Morales, PhD., associate dean and director of the center, who has been at Stanford 20 years, and hails from South Texas by way of a b.a. from Fresno State (her doctoral is from Stanford). The photo is actually from a previous wandering — I generally walk, if it is part of my so-called workout, without phone or watch or any other gadgets beyond what the good Lord did me with bless.

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Cube^2 or hypercube by Andrzej Sekula


I am not sure how I got here but I am compelled to post this short video, rarely seen (66 views), of a 2002 film “Cube2” or hypercube by Andrzej Sekula, a Polish cinematographer and director. It reminds of: “The Matrix”, “Inception”, Winchester Myster House, the Simpsons’s version of “Tron”.
This is mostly a music blog but here I have posted three consecutive items about film.

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Sayles as Lardner

I and I caught “Eight Men Out” on cable tv, and then captured this still of John Sayles, as Ring Lardner, singing a parody of “I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles” (by Burr and Campbell, 1919, Tin Pan Alley thing):

I’m forever blowing ball games;

Pretty ball games in the air;

I come from Chi;

I hardly try;

Just go to bat and fade and die;

Fortune comes my way;

That’s why I don’t care

I’m forever blowing ball games;

And the Gamblers treat us fair.

Youtube has an authentic version of the song; interestingly, the British football club West Ham does a version of this, I also found.

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Nellie McKay street music movie

Nellie McKay (standing, in red pants) and four other musicians or mere humans pretending to be musicians, in “Downtown Express” a film.

Nellie Mckay and at least four other fellow travelers play street music and concert music, in a film, and perhaps appearing nearby and soon, like in San Jo, maybe or maybe not part of ZERO1, and someday, or in a parallel universe for The International Congress of Buskers of Palo Alto (ICO-BOPA).

I wrote previously about crashing an interview in the lobby of a Hotel in 2009 at SXSW in Austin. I will edita with a better take on this David Grubin film, called “Downtown Express”.

I believe that Philly-based sax player Sabir Mateen also appears in the project, diegetically.

Nellie McKay performs Sunday, Oct. 21 at Montalvo.

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Ava Mendoza Trio shreds Smith-Andersen art show and party

Dominique, Nick and Ava sound-checking at Smith-Andersen

Ava Mendoza, Dominique Leone and Nick Tamburro crushed it like so many pomegranates going POM Saturday at the opening party at Smith-Andersen Gallery in Palo Alto. They played three short sets over two hours, then rushed up to Berkeley for a club show at Starry Plough. I schmoozed with about a half dozen fans, artists and staff before retreating to a stool within two feet of the keyboards, for my own little peace of music/food/art/weather heaven. I am not sure if they noticed when, finishing 90 percent of my bottled water, I blew across the mouth a few times, at, to my mind, appropriate points in measure, to create if not a note per se than something note-like, or more note-like than noise-like. That I subsequently kicked a group of hanging nearby metal rulers and t-squares a couple times did not seem to inspire much ire either. I may have clapped once or twice, after a song. I hooted first once than twice. “That was a double-whoop!”

Good luck to Ava and gang, with new cd and changing their name, to Unnatural Ways. But don’t change that sound!

PS. this is a weird segue and speaking of heaven but my “pomegranates going POM” reminds me that I caught “60 Minutes” talking with a supposed former Navy SEAL who wrote under the name Mark Owen about about the killing of Osama Bin Laden and that he added the detail that on his way home given liberty he stopped for “two tacos and a bean burrito” at Taco Bell reminds me of the restroom-based  danger-evading story-telling scene from Tim Roth in Tarrantino’s “Reservoir Dog”. edit to add, two minute later: Mr. Orange (Tim Roth) “bag full of pot room full of cops” bathroom scene>>>

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Thomas lifts giant boulder at LACMA

A two-hundred-foot-tall anthropomorphic being

Thomas the Giant toys with Heizer boulder

descended on LACMA recently and examined the nut part of Michael Heizer’s “Levitated Mass” with his two fingers. He said his name was Thomas and had studied art in other galaxies.

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Recipe for Cherry Colgado Pie

Recipe for Cherry Colgado Pie
1. While in Minneapolis, near or at the Walker Art Center and Walker Sculpture Garden, do not fail to notice the giant Cherry on a Spoon, by Claes Oldenburg. Take a picture, or get your hands on the brochure. (aku “Spoonbridge and Cherry 1985-1988″)
2. In Hanover New Hampshire, the Hood Museum at Dartmouth College has a sculptural piece by Juan Munoz (1953-2001) called “Hombre Colgado Pie (Man Hanging From His Foot, 2001)”. If the piece is not to be found on display, the little gift shop usually has a post card of this work.
3. In your mind, or with a scissors and paste, or some high falluting high tech thingamajig, juxtapose or put together as in a dream or a mash, these two concepts. Cherry plus colgado pie equals cherry colgado pie.
4. Serves one to six billion. Store the rest in a container, well-chilled for future use, reissue, a caprice.
5. For a little more spice, listen to “Symphony for improvisers” while you work, or certain hockey broadcasts, BUT NOT BOTH. See also.

Note may also be served with couscous van bruggen

edit to add: I described this project and even showed my actual sketch to the actual artist Kara Maria (fka Kara Maria Sloat) and she took me serious enough or indulged me enough to ask about production per se. So yeah maybe I could write to Hood Museum about lending Juan Munoz “Hombre” and letting travel like the mother in William Faulkner’s “As I Lay Dying” all the way from Hanover to Minneapolis in a carriage or hearse and then, so, yeah, can it hang from from the Cherry stem, so how, for a minute. And maybe Dave Douglas or Steve Bernstein can gather there and play Don Cherry, his music. But for now the piece is a thought-experiment (like a Yoko Ono thingy) or exists only in Plastic Alto. (And not to digress but last night a PBS doc about Mexico 1910-1930 and Eisenstein said something about “film and plastic arts”. What are “plastic arts”?)

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Charlie Hunter new duo cd and interview in LA Times

LOS ANGELES TIMES INTERVIEW
Guitarist Charlie Hunter talks ‘jam bands,’ jazz and going it alone
After nearly 20 years of recording, it’s remarkable how much ground Charlie Hunter has covered. Rising out of the Bay Area jazz scene with a freakish virtuosity on a custom eight-string guitar that allowed him to play bass and melody lines simultaneously, Hunter performed at Lollapalooza in 1993 and released the first of six albums for Blue Note in 1995. Since then he’s recorded with musicians that include drummer Leon Parker, vibraphonist Stefon Harris and Norah Jones, who sang on two tracks for Hunter’s 2001 album “Songs From the Analog Playground.”Often lumped in with the so-called “jam band” crowd after earning a following on the festival circuit, Hunter’s music isn’t so easy to pigeonhole. Having touched on elements of soul-jazz, reggae and boisterous funk-rock in the past, Hunter recently set aside electronics for a cleaner tone well-suited for a 2010 solo album of classic covers chosen by his 100-year-old grandfather aptly called “Public Domain.”This weekend Hunter comes to the Mint for two nights with drummer Scott Amendola, who’s played with Hunter since the ’90s. Keep reading for Hunter’s thoughts on moving beyond the jam-band scene, his ambivalence toward being labeled a jazz artist and the benefits of going it alone in today’s music industry.After you first came up in the ’90s it seemed like you were part this mini-movement that brought new life into jazz around the so-called “jam band” scene. Is that how it felt for you at the time?I feel like we were more on the fringe of that world. I mean, it was certainly economically helpful at times, that’s for sure. Because you get into a situation where there’s very few outlets for your music, and you’ve got to go to the outlets that are going to help you make a living … I certainly hope my music is in no way, shape or form influenced by anything that would be known as a jam band. If it is, then I’m going to do something else. (laughs)It doesn’t matter to me because you don’t really get to choose the era you live in and you do not get to choose the marketplace within which you have to function. I don’t enjoy that world very much — and I know it’d be smarter if I did because that’s where all the money is — but I’d rather play a really intimate show for 50 people and really feel like I did something that was a quality experience for everybody involved rather than one of those giant shows and you’re playing at excruciatingly loud volume levels…. There just comes a point where you reach a certain age and can no longer be a part of that. I understand the importance of it, and I’m totally for it for anyone who can deal with it. But it’s not for me, I’ve proven that I can’t do that.

Plastic Alto interloping here: I started a rock series, at Cubberley, with punk and art punk bands, and included Charlie Hunter Trio, which I thought was part of an “acid jazz” scene, and or came out of the Elbo Room in SF and there was this type of dichotomy, or so I thought with Charlie Hunter on one side and Broun Fellinis on the other. Through Charlie I got turned on to, for instance, Bill Frisell, and somewhere along the way everyone from Danilo Perez and Medeski Martin and Wood to, yes, Leon Parker, Steve Lacy, and now I do more work in jazz than rock. But it was jazz or a part of jazz before jam. Notable here that Charlie cut his teeth in certain ways with Michael Franti in Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprosy.

For years there was always that debate of what constituted jazz music or a jazz artist. Did that ever come up with you, whether you “fit in” as a jazz musician?

Well, maybe so. I think when I was younger I let that get to me, but the fact of the matter is jazz really stopped when Louis Armstrong switched from cornet to trumpet. I’d have to be in a time machine to really be a “jazz musician,” right?

I’ve spent — and spend — countless hours sitting with those recordings and learning as much as I can, and I have an affinity for that music. And hopefully in some form in the time that I’m living I can do that music some kind of justice. But generally I think that whole concept of whatever you want to call “jazz” . . . I don’t know of too many musicians who think in those terms.

Unless you’re Wynton Marsalis, who I think is brilliant and definitely managed to decide what [jazz] is and the parameters within which you have to function to be considered a jazz musician. And I think he’s right, I would definitely agree with him. My whole issue is I want to try and make a living music that comes from what [Wynton] is doing. I would much rather listen to him play and do what he does than a guy who’s my age or younger who’s really earnestly “trying to be a jazz musician.”

PAIH: I recall showing some teenagers my schedule of shows and a young listeners said, in reaction to my written description of the rock band Cake, including a horn section “Oh, I like jazz” like having a trumpet made a band jazz. Doug Wamble is down with the Marsalis machine and played with Charlie, in that realm. John Mayer is a fan of Charlie, has jammed and written with him and can sing back or maybe play entire CHT solos.

You’re on a seven-string guitar now, and as you came up that was your thing: You were the guy who could play the bass and guitar at the same time. After so many years has that ever felt limiting?

That’s an interesting question. . . Isn’t this whole creative music thing partly making your own sound? And doesn’t that mean learning all that’s happened before you and using that as a toolbox to move into something that’s more of an honest expression of your humanity? I feel like it’s been a lot more work than it would’ve been if I had just played a guitar and a bass and just went from there. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything. It actually simplifies things, and [allows me to] be more direct. And less desperate (laughs). Because there’s really nothing more desperate than a guitar player playing a lot of notes.

PAIH: Charlie also kicks butt on the Brazilian tamborine.

You’ve been self-releasing albums since 2008. What inspired you to go that route?

Well, it wouldn’t make any sense for me to do anything else. If you had a record company, why would you give me any money to sell so few records? Whereas I can make a record really inexpensively that sounds really good, and I can sell enough CDs to be able to make the next record. So it just made sense.

PAIH: Touring is the model, as fine as most of those cds are.

That’s interesting because for a long time you were on Blue Note–

Yeah, but that was a different day. There still was a record industry and that whole way of doing business. Scott and I were talking about that, we were on Conan O’Brien, and we toured opening for Tracy Chapman and we did a million of these really high profile things and everyone was going, “Oh man, next week you’re going to SoundScan 10,000 records, you’re going to do this, you’re going to do that.” And I’m just like, no matter how accessible we think what we do is, it’s really not. It’s going to be inaccessible to 90% of the public, so don’t even bother trying to reach them. They’ll find you if they need to. Let’s worry about the 10% — and there’s a lot of people in that 10%. Worry about trying to find them, and you’ll find those people.

PAIH: We can buy his new cd by download here. I am such a fan I would pay money to watch Charlie Hunter and friends move furniture and clang pots together, it would be part of the same wave or expression and their talent would show thru. Someone should make a video of Charlie Hunter knocking on his neighbors doors to collect money for his son’s little league team, selling chocolate covered almonds or something. The “knock-knock” would have a musicality and uniqueness and integrity and continuity. I will ask him about this when I get the chance. Like the Richard Serra film of trying to catch a falling pipe.

I did a phoner interview with Charlie for KZSU not too long ago, maybe I can type up a transcript and post it here, or link the actual file.

I also have about five hours of five different Charlie Hunter performances, with five different groups, that some day I will work out a rationale and model to share these with the people. “Charlie Hunter Live(s) at the Cub”.

edit to add, Friday: I sent a quick note to Bob Lefsetz apropos of Amanda Palmer, who famously invites fans to perform on stage with her and does not pay them, about Charlie’s 2010 self-release “Gentlemen, I Neglected To Inform You You Will Not Be Getting Paid”. Which makes me wonder how much Charlie and Co had to pay Norah Jones to tour with him or was it a buy-on? I saw Norah the other night on late night and they said she is up to 40 million in sales.

 

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Anna Fermin in Los Angeles

Anna Fermin

The Cohen Brothers and I caught Anna Fermin at Genghis Cohen’s in Los Angeles this summer. It was part of Anna’s West Coast debut, venturing this way from Chicago, as my family did in 1968 (Anna was on tour; we have stuck it out, here, but I get back to Chi town when I can, like in 2009, on tour with Dao Strom, we opened for Anna Fermin’s Trigger Gospel at Schuba’s a former beer distribution club. Speaking of the 312, good luck to Menlo Park’s Zoe Starkey, studying music biz at Columbia College of Chicago. Zoe’s mom Kathleen Daly runs the popular Zoe Cafe in Menalto Corners here).

I get a lot of mileage telling blues musicians of a certain vintage that I was born on the South Side of Chicago.

Good luck to Anna Fermin and her new cd release, and we hope to see her soon either out here or back there.

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