Risk-free offer: LA Opera's 2011/12 Season

LA Opera's next season has only six productions and is heavy with warhorses, but at least they're attractive warhorses. I'd happily see 5 of the 6, and it doesn't take much to persuade to me see Boheme, especially if the cast interests me. So I guess that makes me interested in all of it.

However, it's very disappointing to see no Wagner on the schedule and it looks like the "Recovered Voices" program, one of the company's best ideas which has had great artistic success, has been shelved in favor of an annual work by Britten. Don't get me wrong- I like seeing Britten on the schedule, but "Recovered Voices" was a significant endeavor. The big news of course is Domingo as Boccanegra with a ridiculously great cast.

While it's certainly not as adventurous as the good third of San Francisco Opera's next season, LA's is more pleasing to me- especially since Nino Machaidze returns once again, seemingly establishing herself as the company's favorite soprano. That's only one highlight of some pretty decent casting although there are a lot of names in the schedule I don't recognize. Of those I do, there are a number of former Adler Fellows hitting the Chandler stage next year. Take a look:

Eugene Onegin with Dalibor Jenis, Oksana Dyka, Vsevolod Grivnov, Ekaterina Semenchuk. Conlon conducts. I've never heard any of these singers, though Dyka will be in SF next season for Attila. Onegin is one of my favorites.

Cosi Fan Tutte with Aleksandra Kurzak, Ruxandra Donose, Roxana Constantinescu, Saimir Pirgu, Ildebrando D'Arcangelo. Conlon conducts. More unfamiliar names, and more Mozart (yawn) but at least it's Cosi- the one Mozart opera I actually get excited about hearing.

Romeo et Juliette with Nino Machaidze, Vittorio Grigolo, Museop Kim, Vitalij Kowaljow. Domingo conducts. It's all about the cast for this one. Machaidze's fantastic and I have no idea why she hasn't been booked in SF already. Kowaljow is marvelous and the word on Grigolo from Europe is very positive.

Simon Boccanegra with Domingo, Ana Maria Martinez, Vitalij Kowaljow, Stefano Secco, Paolo Gavanelli. Conlon conducts. Wow.

Albert Herring with Alek Shrader, Daniela Mack, Liam Bonner, Ronnita Nicole Miller, Stacey Tappan. Conlon conducts. A young cast to be sure and hopefully they won't get lost in the iffy acoustics of the building. This is the riskiest thing on the schedule, which is sad. I've never seen this Britten work so it's another "yes."

La Boheme with Ailyn Perez, Stephan Costello, Janai Brugger-Orman alernates with Valentina Fleer as Musetta, and Artur Rucinski. Patrick Summers conducts. Ailyn Perez as Mimi? That's a "yes."

Kicked off with verve

The New Century Chamber Orchestra

Kicking off their national tour last night in San Francisco, the New Century Chamber Orchestra gave a concert which was a pleasure from the first note to the last. Music Director and concertmaster Nadja Salerno-Sonnenberg welcomed the audience and quipped that as the first show of the tour, it may be the worst. If this proves to be true, the audiences for future performances are in for lovely treat.

They began with Hugo Wolf's Italian Serenade (1887)- a jaunty dance featuring a lyrical solo by cellist Susan Babini and some lively interplay between Salerno-Sonnenberg and associate concertmaster Dawn Harms.

Next up was Bartok's Romanian Folk Dances. There are six individual sections to the whole, but one is very brief and the final two are played without pause, so it seems more like four. The first, "Jocul Cu Bata" is based on the Roma folk music that Bartok so brilliantly transformed into an entirely different genre without losing the essence of the music itself. The second dance, "Braul," was a slow, sad lament to my ears though the program notes claim a different intent. By this point I was somewhat lost in the music and not really paying attention to which dance was what and suddenly I was carried away into the sweeping rhythms of the final two, which ended with a lively, exuberant finish.

I would wager most of us in the Northern America are familiar with Astor Piazzolla's music through its use in tango and I hadn't heard the Four Seasons of Buenos Aires before. While the piece has moments that bear the distinct stamp of his slower songs you can dance to, this is a new Piazzolla to me. Fast, lively and dotted with quotes from Vivaldi's namesake work in each movement, this engaging piece was brilliantly performed and the audience loved it. The slow Invierno (Winter) section was especially beautiful. On a side note, this would have made an excellent addition to the program recently performed here by the Venice Baroque Orchestra of Vivaldi's and Phillip Glass' Four Seasons, called the Seasons Project .

After the intermission came Tchaikovsky's Serenade for Strings in C Major, a work full of lyrical romanticism the composer wrote in imitation of Mozart but bearing his own distinct lushness throughout. Salerno-Sonnenberg and Babini again shone throughout the piece, as did principal violist Cassandra Lynne Richburg. The two outer sections are melodic bookends to a delicate waltz and elegy, the latter being the spot where Richburg really made a lovely contribution.

The audience responded with tremendous enthusiasm, earning two encores: Schnittke's Polka and Gershwin's "Bess You is My Woman Now." I thought these may have been more effective had their order been switched, thus sending the audience out into the rain with a dance in their step instead of a ballad on the brain, but that's just me. Everyone I spoke with afterward agreed the concert was terrific and every piece on the program worked well. Based on the first night, it looks like NCCO has a tremendously successful seven-date tour coming up. The Orchestra is performing in Cleveland, Chicago, Ann Arbor, Los Angeles, San Diego, and Davis. You can find the dates and locations here.

Afterwards, GG and I went to Absinthe for drinks, while Axel and his companions went off to what was hopefully presumed to be a less-crowded Sauce. As I was telling Axel about my latest bad experience with a bartender, this time at Sauce a couple of weeks ago (which you'll learn of once I am completely caught up here), he wondered aloud why I had such bad luck with bartenders. I can't say, other than I am particular about certain things and think it fair to expect that if I'm willing to pay $10 for a drink the bartender should a) know how to make it; b) serve it in a timely manner; c) remember that I asked for a twist and not a cherry and finally d), not get indignant when I return the incorrectly-made drink. Is that asking for too much in San Francisco? Apparently it is in some establishments. That's not the case however, at Absinthe, where the service is always excellent, the staff efficient and the drinks are always well-made. They also have interesting and tasty snacks at the bar until 1:00, so I like the joint- a lot.

The best part however, was the company and conversation. GG, you've been missed.

1973 Hendrix documentary

I believe it used to be called "A Film About Jimi Hendrix" but whatever it's now called, this 1973 documentary about the musical genius is available on Netflix's "Watch Instantly" and is well worthwhile. It features interesting interviews with his father Al Hendrix, Eric Clapton, Pete Townsend and Mick Jagger to name just a few, as well as some fantastic performance footage and Hendrix's appearance on the Dick Cavett show.

James Brown and the JBs in 1971 and the Olympia tapes

Every once in awhile a high quality video of this performance of James Brown performing with the short-lived JBs (yes, that is Bootsy Collins on bass) shows up on YouTube, only to disappear days later. Same thing with the shows at the Olympia in Paris in 1966, '67 and '71. Please, please, please, someone release the video of these shows restored and in their entirety. Whoever is sitting on these tapes, release them- your dead ass is sitting on a goldmine.

Avner Dorman's Uriah premieres at SF Symphony

In general I like to write about my thoughts on a performance as soon as I can, with the lofty and extremely vain hope that someone sitting on the fence about attending something will actually read this and be nudged in one direction or the other toward actually making a decision to see it for themselves (or not). Sometimes I see something too late in a run for that to happen, at other times the constraints of the real world take a toll and I fall behind. I'm a bit behind right now and this post is going to hit too late to be of any influence in that regard (at least locally). It's a damn shame to be sure, but sometimes I need to sleep and attend to other things.

So, forging right ahead I'm going to give my take on Wednesday's concert by the San Francisco Symphony which has only one more performance and since it starts in about an hour I think those who are going to attend it are already well on their way. Usually there would also be a Saturday night performance, but this week features a special event, the Chinese New Year Concert and Celebration. So be it. There you have it. Being a laggard this time around gave me the opportunity to read what others thought about the show, something I usually avoid because I don't want their opinions and reactions to influence my own, though I do like to compare notes after the fact. That's half the fun of this endeavor. Okay, maybe a third of the fun. Anyway, apparently I'm in the minority on this one because the SFS just gave the world premiere of Avner Dorman's new work called Uriah: The Man The King Wanted Dead and it seems few were moved by it.

Dorman is pretty hot right now, having eight world premieres unfurling around the world this year, and this was my first live experience of his music. Uriah is essentially a fifteen minute tone poem based on the biblical character and his story, but here used metaphorically for contemporary politicians who willingly send soldiers (and others) out to die for their own selfish reasons. I suspect George W. Bush and a few others will probably receive a personally autographed CD from the composer if it's ever recorded.

Dorman was on hand to explain the story of what we were about to hear. In five connected sections, he shows us God's wrath as Bathsheba's child dies in an Andantino Indignato movement, followed by Uriah's preparation/acceptance of being sent out to battle to meet his sure death in Lento in the Desert, then we get the battle itself in Presto barbaro, his death in The Song of Angels, and a conclusion labeled Epilogue, where Dorman's disapproving voice of these events is expressed through the music.

On the one hand all of this sounds incredibly pompous and yet on the other I admire the composer's balls for being willing to make his voice heard in such an overtly political piece. Perhaps this affinity made me more susceptible to the music's narrative than others, but I found it to be poignant and effective, especially the loud, percussive crashes when Uriah is killed and during the low bass notes and angry tuba signifying Dorman's disapproval during the Epilogue. In fact, I found them to be almost as moving as the huge double stomping chords Wagner uses to signify the loss of the hero in Siegfried's funeral march during Gotterdammerung. In other words, I really enjoyed the work and would welcome the opportunity to experience it again.

There was more of course- two Prokofiev pieces and Dukas' The Sorcerer's Apprentice, known to almost everyone via Disney's Fantasia. I have a difficult time listening to something like The Sorcerer's Apprentice and disassociating from my mind how it's been used in ways that have become so culturally prevalent, i.e. Fantasia, so the glories of this heard by others were largely lost on me. Unlike Ravel's Bolero and the constant abuse of so many of Beethoven's works, I can't disabuse myself from the mental association of  Mickey Mouse and the The Sorcerer's Apprentice, though I can now listen to Bolero and not immediately think of a corn-rowed Bo Derek emerging from the Pacific Ocean. Actually, Bolero now makes me think of Brian DePalma's under-recognized masterpiece of Hitchcockian trash, Femme Fatale, but that's another post and I suppose that's some sort of weird middle-aged male testosterone-driven response on my part. And that too, is another post. So in essence, the Apprentice didn't do much for me.

The Prokofiev pieces are a different story. I love the "Classical Symphony." It's a perfect work, virtually bullet-proof, and guest conductor David Robertson led the orchestra through an exquisite account of it on every level. The Violin Concerto featured soloist Leonidas Kavakos, sporting perhaps the shaggiest fashion sense I've ever seen on a contemporary classical musician. It was uneven, but still held pleasures and Kavakos received a very warm reception from the musicians onstage.

Finally, I admired the somewhat odd programming of the evening- none of the pieces presented seemed to have anything to say about the others nor invited avenues for comparison. Kind of a classical jukebox approach. After the show, Cecelia Bartoli's ex-neighbor and I went for a drink and gossiped about the neighbors, including the crazy stalker who lives in our building.

Tango



The Dancers of Tango Buenos Aires: Photo by CAMI

Penelope has a keen eye. She wrote to me earlier in the week after reading about my recent encounters with my "Double" saying she had "multiple reactions"- a comment that left me curious and apprehensive. A cocktail at Market Bar followed by a meal at Il Cane Rosso and a ride over to the Berkeley campus gave us plenty of time to discuss these reactions in depth. The irony of our destination being a performance of tango dancing was not lost on me as we talked about the intricate, increasingly complex dance in which we are two of three principals. Whether she had the same thought I cannot say- or at least I wouldn't admit to trying to guess.

The performance by Tango Buenos Aires was sold-out and we arrived just in time. Scurrying about outside were dozens of the dark-haired beauties one might expect to see at a piece entitled Fire and Passion of Tango, yet as we took our seats they were curiously nowhere to be seen, the crowd largely made of up of the usual demographics of the Cal Performances audience. Behind us sat a chatty woman who wanted everyone within earshot to know she was acquainted with the dance world (not meant to imply she is representative of the aforemntioned demographics, to be sure). She grew tedious within moments. The more "interesting" audience for this night was apparently in the balconies.

The lights went down and five musicians launched into Matos Rodriguez's La Cumparsita as five couples tangoed across the stage. The musicians followed with Piazzolla's Preparense and the alluring diva Cynthia Avila sang an introduction and suddenly the space felt very much like a glamorous Milonga. A story of jealousy slowly unfolded as the couples danced through the next ten numbers, at times taking a backseat while other couples told stories of their own- relationships of indifference, romance, comedy- all without words, expressed solely through sensuous movements needing no further explanation. One dancer in particular stood out with a presence of equal measures of  strength and sensuality- Inés Cuesta. Though she was the favorite of Penelope's as well, all of the women executed razor-sharp kicks, spins, and turns with an air of effortless grace and yes, fiery passion. The men too, led and lifted their partners through ridiculously complex moves making one marvel at their strength and sense of balance.

There was an intermission and then the musicians and dancers returned for another fourteen numbers, including three featuring just the orchestra. These musical interludes stood out on their own, the tunes of Piazzolla and Angel Villoldo Arolas giving pianist Fernando Bruguera and bandoneón player Martin Sued moments to shine. Talented as the musicians are, enticing as the music is, the show was all about the movement and stories of the dancers. When the partners had resolved their jealousies, put away their threats, the teases, and had stoked the flames of  romances to full fire, the performance was complete. They took their bows and left the stage.

As for the conversation Penelope and I were having earlier, it continued well into the evening- and eventually it felt as if we were in a Milonga off a dark alley in central Buenos Aires. It was 2:00am and my Double sat on a stool, playing Melancólico on his bandoneón while Penelope and I danced. There was one more presence in the Milonga. There in the dim light, watching us with an imperceptible smile on her face, sat the Femme Fatale.

Almost for a song...

The San Francisco Symphony just launched a great sale on the rest of the season. Tickets are $20, $40 and $50. Act fast- it ends at 6:00pm, January 31st.

San Francisco Opera's 2011-12 season announcement: slice into 1/3s



Renee Fleming as Lucrezia Borgia. Photo by Karin Cooper/Washington National Opera.

The announcement for the San Francisco Opera 2011-12 season came out this morning. Here is my early take on it: 1/3 is great, 1/3 is "meh",1/3 is why? and 1 is wtf are they thinking?

The Great? Three new company premieres:
Renée Fleming and Vitalij Kowaljow in the company premiere of Donizetti's Lucrezia Borgia.
Susan Graham and David Daniels in Handel's Xerxes.
The long overdue company premiere of John Adam's Nixon in China.

Potentially great?
The world premiere of Christopher Theofanidis' Heart of a Soldier featuring Thomas Hampson.

Definitely "meh":
Don Giovanni- new production, but the cast isn't a draw.
The Magic Flute- in English (bad)- at least it's a new production and Nathan Gunn and Heidi Stober will perform Papageno and Pamina.
Attila- great, possibly amazing, cast, but in Attila?

The why?:
Carmen (AGAIN!)
Turandot (Puccini AGAIN!)
Magic Flute (AGAIN)
Don Giovanni (AGAIN)
Two Mozart operas?

And finally, one wtf?:
Carmen "for families"?
At least Maya Lahyani is performing the role, which makes this a must-see for me, but how do you sanitize the characters in Carmen?

The "Double": I've seen my future and he's the Little Chinese Man

He's back, alright. It's now like he never left at all and I'm more terrified than ever after the messages I received today. The Femme Fatale and I were on the bus and I looked out the window and there he was, coming down Powell toward Geary at a mean clip.

I exclaimed, "Look- it's the Little Chinese Man!"
"Where?"
"Right there!"

Having fully descended into madness, I bounded from the bus onto the street, the Femme Fatale running behind me. He was moving quickly. "Hand me my crappy phone," I asked of her, which she had in her bag.

I got one off as he stood proudly surveying the street. He never even knew I was there. He's been shopping it looks like- another new jacket.

Yes, I realize I've crossed the line. Come undone. But what can one do with one's Double?

The Double, according to Sophie De Mijolla-Mellor,

 ... refers to a representation of the ego that can assume various forms (shadow, reflection, portrait, double, twin) ... as a narcissistic extension and guarantee of immortality, but which, with the withdrawal of narcissism, becomes a foreshadowing of death, a source of criticism and persecution.... It was Otto Rank who in his essay "On the Double" (1914) was the first to develop this idea in psychoanalysis. 

Today Anne Enigma boldly stated " the only thing scary about that guy is that he is wear a jacket trimmed in fun fur, circa 1991 Contempo Casuals."


But wait! The theme of the double is taken up by Freud and integrated in his concept of the uncanny.

"The 'uncanny' is that form of terror that leads back to something long known to us, once very familiar" but has become terrifying because it corresponds to something repressed that has returned. "The double," Freud wrote, "has become an image of terror, just as, after the collapse of their religion, the gods turned into demons."

Also today, a professor from UC Berkeley wrote to me elaborating on the Freudian aspect of my madness:

This invention of doubling as a preservation against extinction has its counterpart in the language of dreams, which is found [to represent] castration by a doubling or multiplication of a genital symbol. Such ideas, however, have sprung from the soil of unbounded self-love, from the primary narcissism which dominates the mind of the child and of primitive man. But when this stage has been surmounted, the ‘double’ reverses its aspect. From having been an assurance of immortality, it becomes the uncanny harbinger of death.

He closed with:  "Now, John, liberated by understanding, you can advance into a glorious future."

What future?

Is this my future?:

The Little Chinese Man, my "Double," standing on the corner of Geary and Stockton this afternoon.

The return of the Little Chinese Man, an encounter with the Sleazy Green-Eyed Con Man, and Marcher's descent into madness

I've been thinking about him a lot lately. Almost four months without a peep or a mince. Was he finally behind bars? I could see him there- he deserves to be there of course- locked in a go-go cage lined in faux-fur, wearing a rhinestone-studded thong and matching toe socks, eyes all done up in glitter, while Heklina smacks him with a whip as he shakes his little butt to "Alejandro."

Perhaps he's been ill? Some trick at the Gangway put a roofie in his his daiquiri? Maybe, worst of all, was he dead? Another of his victims turned the table on him and the LCM was now lying somewhere under an underpass of the 280 with his underpants around his ankles? If that were true I would finally be free from ten years of unrelenting terror, but then who would I write about? The transvestite who applies his lipstick to his nose and struts around talking to herself isn't quite as terrifying in the same way.

And then tonight, out of nowhere, there he was right beside me at the corner of O'Farrell and Powell. I was just looking for a place to eat that wasn't jammed with tourists, and there he was. I didn't even have to see his face, I could tell it was The Little Chinese Man just by looking at the back of his head.

Terrified, I reached into my pocket for my crappy phone. Here he is, all decked out for a new year of terror in his fetching new jacket:

I quickly walked in the opposite direction. After almost four months I found myself flummoxed, unmoored and strangely excited. Dinner and drink calmed my spirits.

Walking back home an hour later I came across the Sleazy, Green-Eyed Con Man who hustles tourists and whom I find particularly disagreeable. As the family he was trying to scam walked away from him he approached me as I stood at the corner.

Sleazy Con Man (getting right in my face): "Some people just don't want to hear the message of hope. How are you on this fine night, sir?"
Me: "I've lived in this neighborhood for almost 10 years. I know who you are. Go away."
Sleazy Con Man: "Is that so? Who am I?"
Me: "You're a fake who's out here trying to get money for some fake-ass charity with a clipboard in your hand. Who the fuck raises money for charity with a clipboard on a corner in 2011? Go away."
Sleazy Con Man: "You don't know that's true."
Me: "Okay let's try it this way. You go away, or I'll follow you and tell your marks you're a fake. Your choice."
Sleazy Con Man: "Can I have a cigarette?"
Me: "No"
Sleazy Con Man: "You can't even give me a cigarette?"
Me: "No. I don't like you."
Sleazy Con Man: "Fuck you. You shouldn't have told me that."

And at that moment the Little Chinese Man walked out from behind the Sleazy Con Man into the crosswalk at Geary and Taylor, just like that. I glowered at the Sleazy Con Man and stepped off the curb after LCM without another word, automatically reaching into my pocket for my crappy phone.

I hurried across the street, trying to catch up and I was almost in range and then LCM stopped dead in his tracks to admire a display of Snuggies in the window of Walgreen's.

"Damn it!" I said to myself. Nothing is going right this evening. Thinking as quickly as I can, I get off one shot but I can't bring myself to stop and also admire the Snuggies. I keep walking, west up Geary, thinking he's going to come up behind me. I intentionally don't cross the street at Jones, but wait, thinking he'll skip up beside my lou.

The light turns green. I must cross. I cross Jones and when I am safely on the other side I turn around. LCM is nowhere to be seen. He must be inside Walgreen's buying a Snuggie. I wait. It is time for the hunter to get captured by the game. I lurk behind a tree in front of the Adante Hotel, lying in wait. Yes, I am now stalking the Little Chinese Man. He's going to be mine and I am finally. going. to. take. a picture. of. his. horrifying. face!

This particular section of Geary has an incline as you head west affording me a good view of the block I just traversed. I wait. I lurk. I pull the brim of my hat down to hide my eyes. I light another cigarette. Damn. How long can it take to buy a Snuggie? It's been 10 minutes now. Foiled again! The LCM has bested me one more time. I am beginning to feel like a certain cartoon coyote.

Saddened and dejected, I trudge up the sidewalk, looking back at the LCM-less street behind me every few steps. "It's okay," I tell myself, "at least you know he's still here."

Bring the Noise: Public Enemy rocks Yoshi's

Yeah, boyee! Flav in ya face!

Last night, at around 1:15 in the morning, television star Flava Flav was standing alone onstage at Yoshi's in San Francisco with a mic in his hand. The packed house was slowly exiting. The show was finished but Flav wasn't. Flava likes to talk. He denounced racism, wished the audience peace, power, told us where his family was sitting in the back of the room and reminded us that no one's going to take better care of you than yourself. He had some other kind, warm things to say, but they escape me this morning. Sorry about that, I wish I could tell you more, but I still have the ferocious buzz of a two-hour plus Public Enemy set going off in my head.

In my previous post I wrote that I gave up attending hip-hip shows after the Run-DMC debacle at Long Beach in 1986. Last night at around 11:00pm, when the S1Ws came out onstage to the sounds "Contract on the World Love Jam," I realized that can't be true because I'd seen this before. Somewhere between 1987 and 1990 I attended an earlier production this play where these guys in fatigues come onstage and stand there looking tough (though they looked a lot tougher back then) before breaking into some militaristic dance moves. Back then they held fake Uzis. This time they just did the scowl and dance routine, though the dancing bit was really just a couple of simple robot moves. In short order there were eleven people onstage: Chuck D., perhaps the greatest rapper ever, the aforementioned tv star Flav, the controversial Professor Griff, DJ Lord, the S1Ws, two other guys flanking both sides of the stage who were there two keep things under control and be of various assistance to the group and those in the audience near the stage, and what turned out to be a terrific band featuring a guitarist and drummer (whose names I need to find somewhere online) and the legendary Davey D on bass.

Launching into what was essentially a greatest hits set centered around material from It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back and Fear of a Black Planet, Public Enemy worked it hard from the opening with "Brothers Gonna Work it Out," "911 is a Joke" and "Welcome to the Terrordome" (which had a juicy chunk of "Rapper's Delight" inserted into the middle of it). Just when it seemed the group was going to do Black Planet in its entirety, they launched into "Bring the Noise" and followed with the next three songs from It Takes a Nation of Millions, including "Terminator X to the Edge of Panic" which was followed by a pretty mind-bending display of turntable expertise from DJ Lord using Nirvana's music. The band also kicked some hard driving metallic funk out in the middle of the set as everyone left the stage for a few.

"Can't Truss It," "He Got Game," Rebel Without a Pause," "By the Time I Get to Arizona," "Cold Lampin'," "Can't Do Nuttin' For Ya Man," "Public Enemy No. 1," "Fight the Power" and "Night of the Living Baseheads" all followed- performed with urgency and enthusiasm by Chuck, Flav and the band. They looked to be having as much fun as the audience. Griff and the S1Ws not so much, but I guess that's their job. Chuck turned over the mic to a guy up front to do the Harry Alan part of "Don't Believe the Hype" and then let the guy, whose name may have been John, keep it for a few minutes and he went into a spontaneous rap of his own, doing the audience proud. These guys worked harder at this than I would have expected at this point in their careers. Flav worked his ass off actually, taking turns on the bass and drums as well. TV star or not, onstage with P.E. the guy is all business.

Though most of the songs are now more than 20 years old they have a staying power that's undeniable and pretty damn incredible. None of them sounded like dated hits from back in the day. This wasn't "old-school jams night." No, this was the presentation of a legacy. Most of the audience knew the words to all of them- no mean feat considering a significant portion in the house were probably born after 1980.  After all these years P.E. can still bring the noise- and they did it with force. Harder than you think.

Thank you Anne. You shoulda been there.

The set list to the best of my recollection:
Contract on the World Love Jam
Brothers Gonna Work It Out
911 Is a Joke
Welcome to the Terrordome
Bring the Noise
Don't Believe the Hype
Cold Lampin' with Flavor
Flav's Nephew does a tune
Terminator X to the Edge of Panic
Harder Than You Think
Band Instrumental
DJ Lord tears up Nirvana
He Got Game
Can't Truss It
Rebel Without A Pause
By the Time I Get to Arizona
Fight the Power
Night of the Living Baseheads
Can't Do Nuttin' for Ya Man
Public Enemy #1

Rebel without a pause

Lately I've been feeling an acute sense of nostalgia and of time passing. Perhaps some of this is leftover from the holidays, which is understandable, but there's more to it- or in it. As I sit on the couch looking at the blue sky, I have the windows open and I can hear music coming from a party taking place in the Tenderloin National Forest across the street. I'm enjoying it- but it's fueling that nostalgia something fierce. It's mostly 80's R and B- Teena Marie, the SOS Band, stuff I used to listen to on KJLH in L.A. during that era.

Tonight I'm going to Yoshi's to see Public Enemy. Talk about seemingly inappropriate venues. When P.E. first exploded on the music scene in 1987 a place like Yoshi's would have been terrified to host a gig of theirs. Their first album came out amid a lot hype, but it wasn't until "Rebel Without a Pause" was put on the B-side of their first single it became clear this was a group to be reckoned with. "Rebel Without a Pause" was like a bomb going off in the world of rap music. It sounded like something completely new and it sounded dangerous. The only other songs I knew of with comparable impacts were NWA's "Dopeman," which came out at around the same time, and Run-DMC's "It's Like That," from 1983.  Hearing these songs the first time you knew they were game-changers and this proved true. Rap was never the same after "Dopeman," which ushered in the whole "gangsta" era, and not long after that rap became the music of choice among white kids in the burbs who wanted to listen to music that would annoy their parents. One thing that made these songs sound so ominous back then was they were pretty much only heard on KDAY- an AM radio station. So not only was the music raw by design, but hearing it in the low-fi frequency of AM greatly magnified its impact.


I lost interest in the genre somewhere around 1990. What to me had been incredibly creative and fun music was evolving into a repetitive, increasingly negative bore. Of course there were exceptions, but the landscape had irrevocably shifted with NWA and I moved on. So did rap. I was told last night it's entering a more positive phase, but it's unlikely at this point I'll ever catch up the current state of the genre, even though I think Jay-Z's "Empire State of Mind" is one of the most brilliant songs I've heard in years.

P.E.'s 1990 release Fear of Black Planet was probably the last contemporary rap album I liked and paid attention to until I heard Outkast's incredible Speakerboxx/The Love Below. That's a thirteen year gap, during which the complex, hypnotic samples and beats of masters like The Bomb Squad, Marley Marl and the Dust Brothers gave way to the slower synth beats of Dr. Dre- a sound which dominated the genre for at least a decade. I found "gangsta" rap boring. The music seemed to take a backseat to the image of the rappers, who seemed intent on playing a game of one-upmanship that had more to do with guns than rhymes. The violence that came to be associated with hip-hop was always in the audience, but now the performers were getting in on the game. The negativity of it all outweighed great songs I'd hear occasionally like Eminem's "Without Me" (though perhaps I liked it because of it's reference/resemblance to Malcolm McClaren's "Buffalo Gals") The appeal of a song like Tupac's "Hit 'em Up," which has undeniably great beat (lifted straight from Erik B. and Rakim's "Paid in Full") was lost on me due to the ugly coarseness of the lyrics. Besides, a lot of it seemed inauthentic- a prime example being Ice-T's transformation from a guest rapper on silly, lame party tunes to self-proclaimed O.G.. I have no idea if Ice was a gangster or not. What I do know is the skinny guy who was opened a Run-DMC show at a club called the Mixx in L.A. in 1984 was hard to see in the pumped-up guy pictured on the cover of 1991's O.G..

Speaking of gangsters and Run-DMC shows, I was in the audience at the notorious Long Beach show in 1986. That was it for me as far as hip-hop shows went. Riots aren't fun, and though fights were something to be expected at the shows, that night took it to an entirely different level I never, ever wanted to experience again. Do you have any idea how terrifying it is to be in a crowd of 14,000 people as it erupts into a riot? The lights had been on for awhile at the point when it became an actual nightmare. I don't think they even came down when Whodini took the stage, so you could see what people were doing. Usually it calmed down after awhile, but on this night it just grew and grew and then it became something else- you couldn't tell where it coming from anymore- then people started breaking the legs off the seats and using them as weapons to hit other people. We were trapped- a blond Valley Boy and his Filipina girlfriend- and there wasn't a path to leave without having to wade through people beating one another with metal sticks. The security guards and the cops completely bailed. By the time we made it out there wasn't a single one to be seen inside- just bloody people lying on the ground of the arena's perimeter. The bullshit violence at Uncle Jamm's Army gigs at the LA Sports Arena in the mid 80's was nothing compared to this. I haven't been to rap show since.

So why am I, now a middle-aged white guy, going to see P.E. tonight at Yoshi's? The music of course, and the fact that Yoshi's is a pretty sedate, small club. Rap has an extremely short shelf-life. A lot of the music by  groups like Whodini or Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five hasn't aged well. Sure, there many classics from the earlier days of hip-hop- but for every great tune by the Beastie Boys, Run-DMC, Young MC, Erik B and Rakim, etc., there's a lot of  stuff like the Egyptian Lover and UTFO's "Roxanne, Roxanne" - fun to watch on YouTube if you were there at the time, but hard to understand how popular it was in retrospect (much less inspire countless copy-cat/ repsonse tunes).

Public Enemy is different. Even though it's cringe-inducing to acknowledge that Flava Flav is now more famous as a reality TV star instead of as his role as the Greek chorus/joker to Chuck D.'s raps, the music has retained its power, and, importantly, its relevance. Even in 2010- with a Black President in the White House, songs like "Night of the Living Baseheads," "Can't Truss It," "By the Time I Get to Arizona," "911 is a Joke," and of course "Fight the Power" still pack a punch. A message band that never lost sight of the original message. By the way- here's to MLK day.

Gluzman hits, Tortelier misses

Yesterday I wasn't working and spent most of it in a state of glorious, decadent repose with cocktails commencing at 3:00 pm. Suddenly it was last summer, as the sun was shining and it felt warm for the first time in weeks. That's all to the good, believe me, but it wasn't necessarily conducive to giving the orchestra my fullest attention later in the evening.

The concert began with Mussorgsky's prelude to Khovanschina, an opera I've yet to see and likely won't get a chance to anytime soon- at least locally. There's not much to say about it (it lasts about six minutes) except that it's gorgeous music and has these haunting, bell-like tones lurking within it that have always made me curious to experience the entire thing.

Conductor Yan Pascale Tortelier chose to lead it without a score. This choice always intrigues me, as I can't help but see it as a statement on the conductor's part implying a mastery and knowledge of the score- "I know this by heart inside and out- watch me!"  A music stand and the score were brought onstage for the next piece, Khachaturian's Violin Concerto, written in 1940. The soloist was Vadim Gluzman, performing the piece on a 1690 Stradivarius on extended loan to him. Gluzman was fantastic. The work affords the soloist hardly a break and he wove through the folk-inspired melodies with seeming ease.

The score and stand disappeared again after intermission and Tortelier led the orchestra through a bombastic, sometimes plodding rendition of music from Prokofiev's Romeo and Juliette. The fleet elegance found in the score nowhere to be heard. Oh wait- the score was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps that explains it. My companion had a less charitable view, but she can write about that on her own blog.

Arturo's Party

Saturday night Penelope and I caught Arturo Sandoval's concert at Herbst, a holdover from SFJAZZ's fall season rescheduled from its original October date. I should say Penelope unequivocally loved this show, and it appears everyone else did too, but I found it only mildly satisfying. Certainly not bad- Sandoval's band- the tremendous Ed Calle on sax, Manuel Valera on piano (who has one of the best left hands I've ever heard), Alexis Arce on drums and Armando Arce on percussion are all crack musicians. I was more ambivalent about six-string bassist Dewayne Pate, whose amp was initially way too loud in the mix and whose playing sometimes often sounded hyper-busy, especially in the first set.

But let me tell you what was undeniably great- Sandoval is a master of the trumpet, with a range and tone beyond anyone else I've ever heard. What he can do with it is close to astonishing. He's also an incredibly warm, welcoming, generous, humorous performer, with zero pretense- at times this show felt like we were all hanging out at Arturo's house on a Sunday afternoon with his pals. This was magnified by Sandoval's decision to not only play the horn, but the piano, an electric keyboard, timbales, he sang, he danced, he did the human beat-box. Really. He brought  eleven year Gabriel Angelo come up onstage and play "Moon River" (the kid was great and Sandoval promised he'd send him a cornet).

He and the band played with an air of spontaneity that one should expect from proponents of Be Bop yet it also felt as if everyone knew where they were in the music at all times. So far all this should sound great, right? Yet I found  the set list weighted far too heavily on bop and slower tunes, with things really only heating up Latin-style toward the end, which was disappointing to me but nobody else really seemed to mind. My other quibble is while Sandoval can do all the other instruments and routines well- or at least be entertaining while doing them, he's best at the horn. But it's his show, and after performing for almost 50 years, who's going to deny him? Not me.

1969 Redux

I just saw this photograph of Jared Loughner of the NY Times home page...

...and the first thing that came to my mind was this photograph:

Did anyone else make the same association?

With no disrespect intended to the victims meant nor implied.

The Crucible Revival is this weekend



Karen Fox as Athena; Photo by TheBlight.net

Regrettably, I don't think I'm going to make this, but it really looks like one of those events I'll kick myself for missing. This Friday and Saturday The Crucible will honor the departure of Founder and Creative Director Michael Sturtz with a special program called Crucible Revival, where they plan to bring back many of the most memorable performances from the past. Their press release promises an evening of "reprisals of unforgettable moments from Crucible stage shows, stunning surprises and plenty of fire from a Who’s Who of Bay Area favorites, including many Crucible friends and collaborators. Hosted by Master of Ceremonies Mark Growden, the revival promises a fast-paced, jaw-dropping lineup of music, dance and more."
This an event where you can probably believe the hype. If you can make it, check it out: Tickets are on sale now at The Crucible in-person, by phone at (510) 444-0919, ext.122, or online at www.thecrucible.org, and are $60 in advance and $65 at the door. The address is 1260 7th Street, Oakland, CA 94607

LIVE: Barber, Strauss, Mahler

Sometime in late November publicists for the New Century Chamber Orchestra asked if I would be interested in reviewing the orchestra's new CD. I immediately responded yes- no one's ever asked me to review a classical CD before and having recently seen them perform I thought it would be an interesting challenge. A day or two later I received the CD in the mail and when I opened it and looked at the titles I thought to myself this is too close to the holidays to listen to this and have any sort of response that won't be maudlin at best, suicidal at worst.

So I placed it in a corner along with the PR materials and let it sit. Through Thanksgiving, through Hanukkah, through Christmas, through New Year's. The guilt compounded. Such nice folks to send me a copy and here I am, afraid to listen to it, just waiting for the right moment. Finally I decided this was the week. Well, yesterday I heard a 40 year-old neighbor of mine was found dead in her apartment, then came news Gerry Rafferty died, reminding me a certain girl from my long-lost-youth, and more directly of my long-lost-youth having sex with this particular girl, and then the Femme Fatale gets all jittery on me and so I come home after a trip to BevMo and decide tonight's the night (the poor people at NCCO are probably never going to ask me to attend or review anything again after this but they should have known what they were getting into- this isn't your average classical music blog- but you can go here and here if you want a more straightforward review).

After pouring a stiff one, I insert the disc, which is a live recording of Barber's Adagio for Strings, Richard Strauss' Metamorphosen for 23 Solo Strings and Mahler's Adagietto from his Fifth Symphony. If you already know this music, and surely you know the Barber at least (and you do even if you think you don't), you can easily understand why this bunch didn't exactly leap out and say "play this and get in the mood for the holidays!"

Barber's Adagio suffers from the overexposure weighing down a select, though large, group of classical compositions that makes it difficult to separate what we've been culturally bludgeoned to associate it with upon hearing from how the work actually makes us respond to it on its own terms. This recording remedies that to certain degree, though I can't tell if it's by design or just fortuitous good luck. It's Barber alright, and of course its painful and beautiful, but it's also a bit raw and in your face- as if to say "yes, you've heard this a thousand times but pay attention to this." What that is, in the hands of this orchestra, is an Adagio resisting the maudlin, intent on drawing out the pathos of the piece. If it's not beautiful in certain moments, it certainly in an arresting performance that grabs one's attention, making me feel as if I was hearing this overly familiar work from someone who didn't want it to sound reassuring or even worse, sad, but wanted the listener to feel it resonate within them. It forsakes prettiness for potency- and in these times that's a welcome substitute.

Strauss' Metamorphosen for 23 Solo Strings, written during WWII when the composer was nearing 80 years old, is a threnody for what was lost at the hands of the Third Reich. At least that's always been my take on it- I don't care if you disagree. It has a unique structure- a work for 23 strings which rarely play together in anything resembling a melody you might expect. Broken down into various groups and combinations, this is serious regret writ large upon Beethoven's, not Hitler's corpse. It's also the recording which inspired this disc, according to Nadja Salero-Sonnenberg, for which she sought other performances/pieces to match it (hence my holiday aversion). The opening is beautiful, evoking a sense of loss and bewilderment- a tone which NCCO carries throughout the piece as it winds its way between the influence of Beethoven and Wagner before traversing a more modernist path, ending in ambiguous notes suggesting what lies ahead remains unable to be seen, perhaps best not to think about, like an inconclusive conversation between lovers at a crossroads.

I recently saw NCCO  give an impressive performance of  the Adagietto, which worked incredibly well in a live setting, but taking a single movement from a larger work is tricky business in a recording. These 10 minutes of Mahler leave me wanting what comes before and after, something beyond what NCCO can deliver.

The New Century Chamber Orchestra will begin a national tour on February 1st, with a local performance at Herbst on Saturday, January 29th, featuring the tour repertoire, including audience favorite Four Seasons of Buenos Aires by Astor Piazzolla and Tchaikovsky’s Serenade for Strings. Tickets can be had here.

Changes to the "Coming Up" page

I've added some descriptions to the performances on the "Coming Up" page so readers will have a better idea of why these particular shows got my attention. The links will give you more detailed information, such as where, when, and how much, but the page now features a "why" element that was previously missing. I hope it works better for you, and ultimately will spur you to see these shows. I don't just decide to attend this stuff higgelty-piggeltey you know.

SFJAZZ Spring Season picks

As I mentioned earlier, SFJAZZ's Spring Season is an embarrassment of musical riches. With 46 concerts to choose from, it's difficult to narrow it down to a dozen or so and I would happily attend at least 30 of these shows. It's like having to choose between a date with Sophia Loren or Marilyn Monroe and not even getting the chance to think about choosing Elizabeth Taylor instead.

or...

However, after careful deliberation, below are ten I wouldn't want to miss. Hard choices to be sure, but the criteria basically involved the opportunity to see and hear something rare, unique, and different. With the exception of Rickie Lee Jones and Marcus Roberts, who are too good to pass up,  I decided I would leave out any performers I've seen before, which will account for the absence of what many would consider obvious first choices.

My 10 picks:

Marcus Roberts Trio  3/17  Roberts is one today's best pianists and his trio recently released New Orleans meets Harlem. They'll likely hit it hard and hit it smart.

Yasmin Levy  03/20  SFJAZZ brings some of the most arresting international performers to the Bay Area- these shows are usually my favorites. Levy "melds Ladino melodies with vibrant cadences of flamenco, a style with shared roots in Spain’s Moorish past."

Madeleine Peyroux  04/08  Peyroux evokes an ineluctable place somewhere between Billie Holiday and Rickie Lee Jones.

Max Raabe & Palast Orchester  04/09   The Weimar Republic is alive, well and will be present on the stage of the Paramount Theatre.

Gabriela Montero  05/01 Jazz intersects with Classical on solo piano, with improv. As an admirer of Jacques Loussier, I think this show looks really promising.

CéU 05/06 Brazil's latest intriguing singer has a sound that brings samba to places it hasn't been before.

Lionel Loueke Trio  05/20 Guitarist Loueke brings a distinct West African influence to highly intricate arrangements, blurring the line between traditional and adverturous.

Rickie Lee Jones   05/27 She'll be performing her eponymous debut album and Pirates in their entirety for this show. Enough said.

A Night in Treme  06/10 A musical portrait of New Orleans featuring musicians who have appeared on the acclaimed show.

Ana Moura  06/25 Portuguese Fado. Another gig which promises to transport the audience to another place.

Tickets are now on sale.

The 12th Annual SFJAZZ Spring Season line-up

The 12th Annual SFJAZZ Spring Season line-up is pretty damn impressive. Coming on the heels of some fanstastic shows last fall, two of which made my best-of-the-year list, the breadth of talent this organization is presenting to Bay Area music enthusiasts has solidified their status as one of the region's top performing arts organizations. Jazz of all stripes performed by young turks and legends, some of the finest living singers in the world, music from around the world, blues of many hues. The only hard part is how to narrow down what to attend.


Take a look at who's coming:

Tony Bennett
A Night in Treme with the Rebirth Brass Band, Kermit Ruffins, Donald Harrison and more
Youssou N'Dour and Angelique Kidjo
Randy Newman
Buddy Guy
Rickie Lee Jones
Ravi Shankar
Steve Tyrell
Hugh Masekela
Max Raabe and Palast Orchester
Marcus Roberts
Nikki Yanofsky
The SF Jazz Collective
Lonnie Smith and Barbara Dennerlein
CéU
Jake Shimabukuro
John Scofield
Patricia Barber
Presevation Hall Jazz Band
Irma Thomas
Ellis Marsalis
Marc Ribot
Lee Ritenour
Ambrose Akinmusire
Kenny Werner
Elaine Elias
Madeleine Peyroux
Ana Moura
Jane Monheit
Lavay Smith
Yasmin Levy
Patricia Barber
 Assad Brothers
Lionel Loueke Trio
Kenny Werner Quintet featuring trumpeter Randy Brecker and saxophonist David Sánchez
Cedar Walton and trumpeter Roy Hargrove
Gabriela Montero

I'll post my own picks in a couple of days- note that tickets go on sale soon 01/16 but if you're a member you can buy them right now.

TICKETS AND INFORMATION


Tickets go on sale to the public on Sunday, January 16, 2011 at 10:00AM. Schedule and artists are subject to change. There are three ways to purchase tickets:

• Visit http://www.sfjazz.org/, service charge applied.

• Call 866-920-JAZZ (5299), service charge applied.
• Go to SFJAZZ Box Office & Store, 3 Embarcadero Center, Lobby Level, no service charge. Open Monday-Friday 11:00am-5:30pm.

To join SFJAZZ, go to www.sfjazz.org or email members@sfjazz.org or call (415) 398-5655x125.

Repulsion Redux- aka Black Swan

I've seen four of the five full-length films directed by Darren Aronofsky. After seeing Black Swan I'll have to see the see the fifth (The Fountain) so I can come to some sort of conclusion as to whether or not he's brilliant (i.e. Requiem for a Dream, The Wrestler) or that he merely sometimes gets lucky and makes a brilliant film if he gets the right material to work with- otherwise the results are hot messes that gather brilliant critical reviews for reasons beyond my comprehension (Pi, Black Swan).

I'm flabbergasted this film has provoked such intense, largely positive, responses from the press and a lot of people I know personally. To me it was Repulsion Redux, and I'm not much of a fan of that particular film either. Sure, here's the part where you can say "What? He doesn't like Repulsion? Rube!" Fine, have at me, though shame on you if you don't know Polanski made a similar film a decade later that is far superior- The Tenant. I suspect it's not as popular/highly thought of because the crazy person in it is portrayed by ugly Roman Polanksi and not beautiful Catherine Deneuve.

What are Black Swan's failures? Let's begin with Portman's character, Nina. Who is she, besides a frail  perfectionist dancer on the edge? We don't know. Is she the unwilling victim of a smothering stage mother? She sure does seem codependent, calling mommy with all the news. And? So what? She hasn't a single friend- either within or without the ballet company. Her life outside the company is non-existent. Fine if that's the case, which would be believable, but show us the dedication to her art, which we never get. Nina is a cipher living in a silo. How did she get to be the one most likely to be the Queen Swan? This movie doesn't give us the slightest clue. If the filmmakers don't care enough about a backstory why should the audience? More to the point, if you don't give us a reason to care about the lead character other than it's Natalie Portman, skinny as hell and obviously suffering to be an "artiste" for this film and that's supposed to be enough? Sorry- I don't buy it. Try again.

The dynamic between her and the artistic director of the company plays totally false. He's looking for a dancer who can perform both the White and Black Swan. At what point does the audience have any inkling she can do both? More importantly, at what point does he? This is never made clear. Is he just a cad, looking for his next ingenue, since the last one is now past her prime and ready for pasture? (Winona Ryder- the most believable performance in the entire film). He comes across as wanting to sleep with her more than cast her as the lead in what will be a major event in his own career. Does this make any sense? None at all.

We are also supposed to believe ballet dancers at this level of the game would actually go out and willingly get loaded and do drugs the night before a premiere performance? Come on. I'm all for suspension of disbelief but the whole idea is just lame. It's like trying to imagine Obama shooting up heroin the night before he's inaugurated. It just doesn't work that way- not at this level. I don't care how crazy you are.

It's not a dance movie. It's not a horror movie. It's not a successful movie about a person falling into the depths of insanity or schizophrenia. It's really just hype. Don't believe it.

Want to see something much more interesting and well crafted based on a similar theme? Try David Cronenberg's neglected masterpiece Spider, which features an under-acknowledged performance by Ralph Fiennes that will floor you. Or at least compare it to Shine, because Black Swan is just a mess masquerading as something it's not- and on top of that it's wholly unbelievable at every turn. If you want to buy the argument it's an arty horror film, your time would be much better spent rewatching The Shining.