Lucinda Childs' Dance

I have a hard time passing up anything billed as a once-in-a-lifetime experience, so I was keen to see the revival of this seminal work from 1979. The hour-long program consists of three sequences, each approximately 20 minutes long, which have eight dancers (four men, four women) bookending a solo piece originally performed by Childs (now close to 70), now danced by Anne Lewis. The music for all three sequences was composed by Phillip Glass and the performance is accompanied by a film by Sol LeWitt featuring the work's original dancers performing the work which plays almost continuously on a scrim at the front of the stage.

In 1979 this meant the dancers were performing alongside, underneath, or next to images of themselves on a screen. In 2011, there are new dancers performing simultaneously with a film of the their counterparts from 1979. The result is mesmerizing and one thing is obvious- today's dancers are much better.

Childs' choreography, like Glass' score, is based on the repetition of distinct elements which create a cumulative effect as they unfurl over time.In the first sequence the dancers do little more than skip and twirl across the stage, entering from stage left, returning from stage right, slightly dipping their shoulders before they disappear from view, hinting that there is something slightly out of balance about this world but it just keeps moving on regardless. The dancers start to move faster as the piece moves from a 12 count to 24, and then to 48, eventually creating a flurry of bouncing bodies across the stage, all performing the same moves while moving in opposite directions, resulting in an effect that can only be described as a visual euphoria.

Coming to an abrupt ending (it is Glass, after all), the second sequence begins with an extended stationary pose by Childs on the scrim. If you didn't notice her blink a few times one may have thought it a still photograph. After a couple of minutes the film disappears leaving Lewis onstage by herself, where she performs a solo that resembles much of what took place during the first sequence but is actually quite different. Alone onstage, with the film of Childs returning from time to time, Lewis skipped and danced to the music but at the end of almost every pattern she turned and threw up her hands, then turned right and repeated the gesture. To me it seemed like a lone dancer, a woman, aimlessly throwing up her hands to fate as if to ask "What the hell am I dong here?" And the question is never answered, though it is repeated countless times. After 20 some odd minutes, it began to grate. What was fleet in the first sequence seemed plodding in the second. There's probably something to unpack there, but you'll have to ask me about that in a couple of days.

The third sequence featured the eight dancers from the first, performing similar steps but now they seemed unbound and even more exuberant. At many points in this segment dancers would move to the corners of the stage and stop, only to pirouette back into the music and the floor on a cue that must demand enormous concentration to keep track of. The net result was a joyous display of the sheer pleasure of mobility and form and watching it was exhilarating as the cast of 1979 performed the same moves on the scrim. It's a potent and heady experience.

The cast of dancers was excellent, and though the program doesn't list them along with photos, my favorites were the bald male and the shorter of the two blonde females. Onstage were Katie Dorn, Sharon Milanese, Katherine Fisher, Shakirah Stewart, Anne Lewis, Ty Boomershine, Patrick O'Neill, Travis Magee, Vincent McCloskey and Joshua Green, all of whom did a fabulous job.

My companion, an admitted non-fan of Glass' music, thought it entirely appropriate and enjoyed it. If the second movement were more involving I would say this would be an early contender for best of 2011. The outer movements are superb, so check out the last performance tomorrow night. There is also a solo performance by Glass tomorrow at 3:00 featuring music from and based on this score. Highly recommended, presented by YBCA and San Francisco Performances.

I should mention that beforehand we had another excellent meal complete with great service at Credo- I love this restaurant. Do check it out and I'm curious about the moustache party- if one of you reads this fill me in on what that was all about. I've never seen moustachioed women look so hot. Speaking of hot, the girl at the corner of Cyril Magnun and Eddy at 10:00 pm in the red dress and those black boots- those boots were the bomb.Damn. Even Penelope thought so, and she's a tough critic.

Oundjian and Biss, Beethoven and Brahms, and Marcher's peculiar peccadillos

Peter Oundjian, Music Director of the Toronto Symphony Orchestra, began a three-night stand with the San Francisco Symphony tonight with a program featuring Christopher Rouse's The Infernal Machine, Beethoven's 5th Piano Concerto (Emperor) and Brahms' 3rd Symphony.

This was the first performance by SFS of Rouse's piece, which is now part of a larger work called Phantasmata. It's a delightful bit of crazy business, GG described it as a "musical Rube Goldberg machine" and that's a pretty apt description. There are many interesting percussion elements and rhythms that chug along at a Looney Tunes clip. It went by in a flash and the only thing I can really say is it made me want to hear more- especially the entire work.

Now I'm going to take a detour. Beethoven's piano concertos are what really drew me into classical music. I vividly remember sitting in my living room one night in 1995 getting ready to listen to my weekly assignment for the Music 101 class I was taking at the time.  That week it was the 3rd Piano Concerto and I went and bought a recording by Emmanuel Ax with the Royal Philharmonic, conducted by Previn, of the 3rd and 4th. I put the CD in the stereo and proceeded to half-listen to it at a moderate volume until I heard the piano make its entrance in the 3rd's first movement.

"What the hell was that?" I thought to myself. I went over to the stereo, turned up the volume and started it over. When the piano came in again I went "whoa," smiled, and knew I was listening to something fundamentally different than what I expected. It felt like rock and roll. Hard rock and roll. It was like hearing Black Sabbath for the first time all over again. I cranked the stereo. Cranked it like I was back in 8th grade listening to Kiss Alive! when my mom wasn't home. It turned me into a Beethoven fanatic, a fate which was forever sealed once I started listening to the late quartets a couple of years later. To this day I still don't understand people who think there can possibly have been a greater composer.

However, the problem was I fed myself a steady diet of Beethoven recorded via modern methods and played at Metallica-level volumes. It was thrilling to say the least. Maybe you can see where I'm going with this.

This of course leads to a problem in the concert hall, because with the standard orchestra for Beethoven's works it's just not very loud. It should be, but it's not- there's only so much you can do with what is essentially a small orchestra compared to what Wagner and Strauss call for. And yet in my head the music has this enormous volume and that is how it should be heard. The reality is different in the hall. So in my opinion the conductor and the orchestra have to make up for the lack of volume by playing Beethoven with a fervor that borders on the ecstatic. Sometimes this happens, most of the time it doesn't. When it does, it's like doing really good drugs or having really fantastic sex. In other words, it's exhilarating beyond anything else. I've only experienced this a few times, most notably with Esa-Pekka Salonen conducting the LA Phil in an amazing performance of the 5th Symphony two years ago, the SFS with Nigel Kennedy performing the Violin Concerto, and the SFS led by MTT in revelatory 9th a few years ago. Usually I enter the hall with great hopes and am prepared to leave disappointed.

Tonight Jonathan Biss was the soloist for the Emperor and from the first chord I knew it was going to be disappointing. I told GG beforehand, who was unfamiliar with the piece, that the 5th was the classical equivalent to what Eddie Van Halen did on his band's eponymous debut album. In other words, it's extreme rock and roll, except it's dressed in classical clothes. What we heard tonight was stately, reserved, mannered and while it wasn't bad per se, it wasn't the balls-out performance the 5th requires to make it work live in the hall. It was a museum piece.

Biss, who has the most enormous hands I've ever seen on a human being (ladies take note), can play, but he also exhibits the excessive performing mannerisms so prevalent in musicians his age that always strike me as just so much showboating. He holds his left hand aloft as the right works the keys in a way that seems to be making some statement but what that statement means is beyond my comprehension.

Oundjian didn't help matters by leading the orchestra through a performance I heard as plodding and perfunctory. But what do I know? Biss and the orchestra received quite an ovation from the full house so don't listen to me- I obviously don't know what I'm talking about.

After intermission came the Brahms. I have to admit to being mentally distracted during this part of the night. April really is the cruelest month and for me it has been a doozy. My mind wandered during this, but try as I might, I really couldn't find a way into what Oundjian and the orchestra were doing after the first movement, which was quite beautiful, if highly mannered.

For an encore, they performed one of Brahms' Hungarian Dances. I thought this odd, and it was the second thing Oundjian did that was unusual- the first being addressing the audience before the Brahms (and giving shout-outs to Eric Idle and an old lady), the second performing an encore. Is he campaigning to be the successor to MTT? I certainly hope not- I've made it clear I think Petrenko should get the job.

And there you have it. Weird. Not what you expect. But that's life- right?

What I've been listening to on MOG this week...

The O'Jays- Back Stabbers
The Best of Angelique Kidjo
Richard Thompson- Shoot Out the Lights
Neil Diamond- Home Before Dark
Be Bop Deluxe- Modern Music
Emmylou Harris- Hard Bargain
Rickie Lee Jones- The Sermon on Exposition Boulevard

MOG is a subscription service streaming millions of songs to multiple devices. For $9.99/mo., subscribers can listen to unlimited music streamed to their computers, smartphones and TVs. Listed #1 in TIME's 50 Best Websites 2010, they provide subscribers with listening options, including on-demand playing from an expanding catalog of 10 million commercially released songs, personalized radio with no restrictions, playlist building, mobile downloads and web-mobile syncing. It's just $4.99 a month if you just want to have it on your computer. You can sign up for it through the MOG link in the right-side column of the blog.

Sneak Peek at the Stern Grove Festival Calendar?

Want to see it before everyone else does? Take a look here.

Thanks Gordon- see you at Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings!

Squinch this!

If you had told me prior to walking into the Novellus Theater last night that the world premiere of Alonzo King's Lines Ballet Triangle of the Squinches was going to be an early candidate for worst thing I've seen this year I wouldn't have believed you. After all, on Thursday night the Swede and I left at the intermission of Killing My Lobster: the Reboot and never looked back. It's all in the expectations. While mine weren't tremendously high for the comedy troupe, they were for Lines Ballet, so the disappointment runs deeper.

How bad was it? In a word- terrible! So, I know some fan of King's is going to leave some comment claiming I obviously don't know what I'm talking about- the audience loved it! And that's true- at least 80% audience was applauding enthusiastically for something, but I think it was sympathy for the dancers. At least that's what I hope it was, because the company has extremely talented dancers who worked tremendously hard at giving some life and meaning to a work that contains little of either. I respect the dancers so much I am not even going to name any of them so when they google themselves they won't find their names linked to such a horrid and insensitive review.

In King's almost largely incomprehensible notes, I believe he tried to explain what the work was about but frankly I read the notes three times and was still at a loss to understand what the hell he was saying. I turned to Penelope (who went to some pretty good schools) and asked if they made any sense to her.

"Nope," she said.

Oh well. I thought maybe it would all become clear once the show started.

The props by architect Christopher were certainly interesting- giant loom-like backdrops with white elastic strings the dancers walked through, leaned into, got tangled up in, and did this and that within the strings, all to Mickey Hart's boring, ambient music that added absolutely nothing to anything whatsoever except made me want to go to sleep or find the chill-out room.

After half an hour of this nonsense the curtain came down. I guess, one could say there was some message in there about how entangled we can become in our own lives, and how when we're falling it's good to have the support of others, but for half an hour? There were only 5 or so "acts"to this half and the second part had more than a dozen. Like what we had just witnessed, something seemed seriously out of balance.

We stood outside at intermission and talked about what people were wearing and debated whether or not we should stay for more. We decided two things: the first is that no matter how young you are, most women do not look good in these ultra-minis currently in vogue and if you have to keep tugging your skirt down you have on the wrong skirt, ladies; the second was that we would stay for the rest because it had to get better, right?

Wrong, though Penelope did think the second half marginally not-as-awful as the first. I disagree and think the whole thing was dreck. Haas's set for the second part (an hour long!) was some weird cardboard wall that resembled a set of interlocking hex wrenches, or something of that nature. There were slats where the dancers reached out from behind to whomever was moving along the front, or people lept from the top, but it was really just a bunch of people moving around, rarely with each other, and Hart's "music" gave them absolutely no queues to work from. That any of them were in synch at all is a testament to their talent because King and Hart gave them little to work with or explore in any meaningful way. At the end the dancers rolled the backdrop off to the side of the stage as if it were a tank wheel, while one wildly pirouetted his arms as if to say "NO! Stop this inevitable progress!" Good grief.

As we were leaving, we wondered why or at what people seemed to be so enthusiastic about. Maybe it's because the tickets weren't cheap and no one likes to feel like they were suckered, but this time, the emperor had no clothes. Oh, yes- and the costumes? Horrible!

When we returned home we decided to look up the reviews (now wishing we had done so ahead of buying the tickets) and they were all fairly tepid in their criticism but much kinder toward this mess than I feel it deserves. I felt sorry for the kids in the audience, who now can say to their parents with complete justification "but you took me to that awful ballet the last time and it made no sense! I don't want anymore culture- let's go to a tractor pull!"

And the kids would be right.

Bay Area National Dance Week

Beginning this weekend, dance companies from across the Bay Area will be presenting Bay Area National Dance Week from Friday, April 22 - May 1. There are over 400 free events and classes to attend featuring almost any style or form you can think of. You can see the entire schedule and sign up for events here.

Hell really is other people

This probably wasn't the best week for me to sit in a theater and watch a play in which the main theme is "Hell is other people." I certainly have been feeling that way lately myself. Yet there I was taking in ACT's imported production of Jean-Paul Sartre's No Exit.  It's easily the best thing I've seen on the Geary Stage in some time.

Director  Kim Collier's concept is a difficult one to pull off in theory, but it's brilliantly executed. She doesn't break the fourth wall- she locks the actors behind it. Hell's new arrivals make their entrances and are escorted across the littered stage to the door of a spare, windowless, Second Empire room and are then noisily locked in by the Valet (Jonathon Young), who remains outside during the next 80 minutes performing his own twist of the play's theme in concert with the action taking place behind the locked door.

Inez (Laara Sadiq, left), Estelle (Lucia Frangione, center), and Cradeau (Andy Thompson) find themselves locked in a hotel room in the afterlife. Photo by Michael Julian Berz.

As each of the trio enter, a camera inside the room captures them on a large screen against the back of the stage. Credeau (Andy Thompson), the wife abuser and possible collaborator, is the first to enter. Thompson bears more than a passing resemblance to Monty Python's John Cleese, which adds a layer of weirdness to the already unusual staging- as if we are watching someone we know being inhabited by someone else whom we don't like- kind of like "Invasion of the Body Snatchers."

When Inez (Laara Sadiq) enters and is locked in with Credeau, another screen appears on the wall and the audience watches the two actors inhabiting two spaces which are different and yet the same, in a very DePalma-esque way. Sadiq has one of those faces that are familiar as well- in this case she reminds me of Marisa Tomei. Prickly and sharp-tongued, Inez's entrance  fills the room with tension- quite an accomplishment given the actors are no longer in front of the audience.

The triptych is complete when Estelle (Lucia Frangione) enters, and she upsets the angry balance by seeming out of place with her refined manners and poise. Oddly enough, and yes I know its ridiculous, but Frangione is a doppelganger for my friend Rhonda Brown, who is also an actor. So there it is- I'm watching variations of John Cleese, Marisa Tomei and Rhonda bicker and taunt one another.

It becomes even worse as Estelle's character starts to remind me of the Femme Fatale to the point where I really do feel like I'm watching someone I know projected on that wall. The theater becomes quite warm and as the three characters proceed to tear each other apart while trying to save themselves, the play's layered strengths emerge as still resonant to a contemporary audience. Sartre's characters are loathsome, their self-justifications are weak, but there's an uncomfortable familiarity in their ugliness and plights which makes them fascinating to watch.

This is in no small part due to the brilliant video design by Thompson, who is also an award-winning film producer and filmmaker. The images on the screen are mostly head shots, and never do we see the actors full body. The effect magnifies their flaws and emotions yet creates a distance since we never see everything happening in the room. Something is always held back, making the audience wonder what is going on out of view, even though we can see what's taking place with great, often uncomfortable detail.

The result is an unexpectedly biting work that's not quite theater, though it's certainly not cinema, but resides in an uncomfortable voyeuristic place in between. The Canadian production is a joint effort from The Virtual Stage and Electric Company Theater. It's on through May 1st and it's well worth seeing.

Smooth Operators

Saturday night I had the pleasure of seeing Max Raabe and the Palast Orchester perform for the first time. The dapper Raabe crooned his way through the two-hour set while the twelve piece orchestra dazzled the audience with exquisite renditions of songs from the 20s and 30s. The setting, Oakland's Paramount Theatre, added an aura of authenticity to it all and was buzzing with people in period dress. It was like taking a step back into a past most of us only know from the movies.

The set was comprised of Weimar- era and American songs sung in German or English. Raabe, a baritone who sang mostly in falsetto, introduced each song in a deadpan demeanor, often with a wry joke. His movements are minimal and when not at the microphone he would step back to lean against the piano and watch the others. All of the musicians played more than one instrument and some of the changes were quite surprising, for example when one the horn players pulled out a violin and and strode to center stage. While Raabe's a captivating center, the personalities of the musicians emerge throughout to make the show much more than a singer with a back-up band. It's truly a flawlessly choreographed show performed by 13 people. Among the many highlights were Weill's "Alabama Song" and Berlin's "Cheek to Cheek,"  which prompted the octogenarians seated next to us to sing along.

My only complaint was the lack of a dance floor for some foxtrotting, but that's a small quibble- this was one of the most delightful performances I've seen in recent memory.

After the show, the Minister's Rebellious Daughter, Chad Newsome, Axel Feldheim and I went around the corner for drinks at the very lively Flora, where we spotted Raabe at the bar.

The concert was presented by SFJazz.

The Tempest: Without a Body

There are a lot of things I'd like to say about Lemi Ponifasio's dance/theater/performance piece The Tempest: Without a Body and on the other hand I don't want to say much about it all except you should go see it and experience it for yourself. If you hear someone say they "liked" or "enjoyed" it, step away from them- they probably laughed at  "A Serbian Film."

It's a performance you experience and feel, not one you watch to be passively entertained. There are moments in it where I felt extremely uncomfortable and other that cut so close to the bone I almost wanted to leave. That's art, and it doesn't happen at this level very often, so go see one of the two remaining performances this weekend at YBCA.

However, there are some things I do want to comment on.

Tonight I saw one of the most terrifying, nauseating sights I've ever seen- a man walking around the stage on all fours. Not on his hands and knees, but on his hands and feet. The effect was like witnessing a human spirit so destroyed it's become nothing more than a domesticated cat or dog, pacing around, looking for its master/owner to feed it.

When the Angel let out her first dreadful scream of sheer anguish I came out of my seat. Tears formed in my eyes, and I realized I've been wanting to make that sound for a week now but can't. The screams kept coming at irregular intervals. She was alone on the stage the first time, but as the work went on, there were others present going on about their business as she screamed away. No one noticed, and I felt each scream became more tolerable, easier to bear, to the point where toward the end I had accepted the screams as part of the soundscape and they no longer terrified me as they did when I first heard them. How many analogies can you make for that? I don't even know where to start.

Before tonight the sight of man's naked, undulating ass has never turned me on. Before tonight.

I have to digest this show and I'll probably have more to say about it later, but for now, just go get a ticket. Goldstar has them, and there's a Q & A with Ponifasio after the Friday night show, that will be worth hearing based on his pre-performance comments tonight.

For now I'll end with this note from the program, taken from Walter Benjamin's Ninth Thesis on the Philosophy of History, and dedicate it to the Femme Fatale:

A Paul Klee painting named Angelus Novus shows an angel looking as though he is about to move away from something he is fixedly contemplating. His eyes are staring, his mouth is open, his wings are spread. This is how one pictures the angel of history. His face is turned toward the past. Where we perceive a chain of events, he sees one single catastrophe that keeps piling ruin upon ruin and hurls it in front of his feet. The angel would like to stay, awaken the dead, and make whole what has been smashed. But a storm [tempest] is blowing from Paradise, it has got caught in his wings with such violence that the angel can no longer close them. The storm irresistibly propels him into the future to which his back is turned, while the pile of debris before him grows skyward. This is what we call progress.

Idol top 9- Rock and Roll Hall of Fame week

What the hell was with that entry segment? Tyler has more curves than J-Lo. That blinding light behind them was no fluke.

I'm sorry to keep harping on this. Well actually, no, I'm not. At this point it's the most interesting thing about the show, but are we really watching Steven Tyler's sexual re-assignment as an un-announced subplot of Idol season 10? It's just bizarre to me. And not that I'm against such things at all- I just really didn't expect it to be  part of the most popular television program in history during a season where it is rebranding itself. So on the other hand, hey America, give yourselves a round of applause because no one else seems to care about this at all! We have come so far!

Tyler's opening about the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is weak, especially from someone who is actually in it. Ah, Steven, how quickly you've gone from savior to punch line, though you kissing your own bust was kind of fun.

So here we are with the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame night sans my favorite Naima, so at this point I don't really care what happens except I really do think Jacob Lusk is incredibly talented. In the suicide slot at number one, he's mistaken when he proclaims "I am not a rock and roll guy." Has he never heard of Freddie Mercury or Frankie Vallie? Not sure Marvin was the best choice for him from the intro- why take the most flamboyantly non-straight guy on the show and have him sing material from a universally acknowledged hetero sex god- at least musically? I'm not saying Marvin's music can't cross orientations- that's ridiculous. But when you sing such a signature song, you better be prepared to own it, slay it, and kill it. Can Jacob do this? Iovinne thinks so- I don't.

Wait. WTF? Suddenly he changes it to MJ's "Man in the Mirror"? Oh dear Lord. Jacob, who is guiding you here???And then you front the whole audience off by saying it won't be your fault but ours if you end up in the Bottom Three? Dude, you have balls. Balls so big, you should have sang an AC/DC song. Are they in the Hall of Fame?

Okay, pause twenty seconds into this- a total failure. Not that it's bad, but he has totally blown the spirit of the night's theme and is doing what he would on any other night. Massive fail, regardless of the how well he sang the song. Which was just fair- and pitchy beyond belief. Not good at all. Sorry Jacob, and I was really rooting for you. You know, James Brown is in the Hall too. Why not "This is a Man's World"? The judges response? I have no idea what they were watching and listening to, but it wasn't what I saw.

Haley Reinhart- Janis Joplin's "Another Piece of My Heart"
Okay, a really good choice of songs for her, and Will.I.Am's advice was really spot on. She obviously doesn't have Joplin's life experience to really make it work, rendering the whole thing as ultimately a karaoke performance, but it wasn't a bad karaoke performance. It will get her through to next week, and at least it was rock and roll. And her shoes were killer. What the hell did J-Lo mean by saying she would be "around for a minute"? Was that a compliment? Didn't sound like one to me.

Casey Abrams- CCR's "Have You ver Seen the Rain?"
Out of all the remaining contestants, this should be his night. His choice- The Police? Are you fucking kidding me? Changing it to CCR was a good idea, though he could have chosen a better song- "Fortunate Son" or "Suzy Q" to name two of a half dozen better choices. Why didn't anyone tell him Van Morrison was a better choice? Schmaltzy- he looked and sounded completely uncomfortable with the song.  It sucked- he sounded like Levon Helm taking it in the ass at some points- and that's not good.

Lauren Alaina- Aretha's "You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman"
First of all, where the hell are the Fashion Police here? That get-up is a full-on disaster. I'm all for the full-figured, large-assed gal rocking what she has, but seriously- she looks like a cow dressed as chess game at a dairy farm's Halloween party in this outfit. And Aretha? This song? From a teenager? Doomed! Another performance which totally sucked. And the 1983 hair and accessories? Where does the travesty end? Why am I watching this?

James Durbin- The Beatles' "While My Guitar Gently Weeps"
As the resident season rocker, he has a lot to choose from here, so I won't give him the credit I would have Casey had Casey done a good job. But since Casey pretty much sucked, let's see what the dude does. "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" Unexpected? Hell Yes. Good choice? Hell no. Huge risk. Did it work?
No. Not at all. BORING. I'm not even going to listen to the judges prattle about this one.

Scotty McCreery- Elvis' "That's Alright Mama"
Just when I thought it really couldn't get any worse, I forgot that Scotty was still on the show. But at least he chose the right material- the best match so far of the night. Again, as always, choosing the safest material possible for his one-note voice, he ought to to be able to kill this.

And he did. Okay, I had to rewind this three times. The first time I was puzzled by how good it was. The second time I wanted to watch what he was doing, because of the whole Elvis as Eminem thing. The third time was just for the vocal. Vocally it was just okay, but the performance was hands down the best of the night so far. He truly captured what the night was supposed to be about. Don't get me wrong- I loathe Scotty, but he kicked ass on this one. I can't deny the kid his due on this one.

Pia Toscana- Ike and Tina Turner's  "River Deep, Mountain High"
The ballad queen does Tina Turner?
She has an advantage doing this in that a large part of her fan base will be unfamiliar with the source material. What a horrible outfit! As for the singing, if you've never heard Tina do it, it may have sounded great, but it totally lacked any soul at all, which is Pia's Achilles heel- a great voice with absolutely no heart nor soul in it. It wasn't great on any level, but on the other hand, she sang the hell out of it. Weird. A failure in most ways, but for this show, this season, also a total success. She's in it until the end. But really, about that outfit....  J-Lo's advice was spot on- she needs some knowledge to really expand that raw talent- which she definitely has. The question is, does Pia have the intellectual curiosity and soul to really be an artist? Or is she just the world's finest karaoke singer? The next few weeks will tell.

Okay, it is definitely weird to see Todd Rundgren in the audience. For those of you who thought this show was just a bunch of bullshit, despite who has participated in it in the past, his presence in the audience should forever remove your doubts that Idol has validity as a genuine musical endeavor. Enough said.

Stefano Legano- Percy Sledge's "When a Man Loves a Woman"
Not the best choice for Stefano- too close to his natural comfort zone and tough to pull off. I would say he didn't. In fact I would say it was embarrassingly cloying and saccharine. Again, Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons are in the Hall of Fame- "Can't Take My Eyes Off of You" would have been a much better choice, or something by Tom Jones- especially "She's a Lady," though I don't know if Jones is a member. He should be! Another better choice for him would have been Al Green's "Let's Stay Together." Green's in the Hall of Fame, right? He has to be.

Paul McDonald- Johnny Cash's "Folsom Prison Blues"
So the weakest performer out of the remaining nine gets the money slot. Hmm. I'll give him huge props for song selection. Totally out of his range and comfort zone. Half the lyrics were unintelligible, but it was far and away the best performance of the night. When he sang " I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die" I knew this was greatness. A fantastic ending. Awesome- and what Idol should really be about this season.

Who should be in the bottom three based on tonight's performance?
Stefano
Jacob
Casey

Who will be?
I have no idea.

Best of the night (in order):
Paul
Scotty
Pia

Damn, I wish this show was consistent, but it seems to change from week to week. Overall, though most of it sucked, I thought this was the best night in weeks.

Gabriel Angelo

On Friday I was walking home from work and I came across this kid playing the trumpet at the corner of Stockton and Sutter. Actually I think it was a coronet.

I asked, "Are you the kid who played with Arturo Sandoval awhile back?"

The kid said yes, and proudly showed me the details on the inscribed instrument which Sandoval gave to him. This very talented young man's name is Gabriel Angelo and yes, he has a blog. I walked away and as I crossed the street he began to play "Moon River" in a way that sounds distinctly his own. At eleven years old! Keep your eyes open for him.

Go Gabriel- blow your horn, and I wish you much success and joy in your art!

The Weimar era returns- Max Raabe and the Palast Orchester

The music and art of Wiemar Republic-era Germany has long fascinated me. The artists who emerged in that time are some of the most influential ever, whose impacts reverberate through our culture to this day: Berg, Brecht, Weill, Dix, Grosz, Kandinsky, Klee, Beckmann, Isherwood, Mann, Kafka, Lang, von Sternberg, Garbo and Adorno, to name just a few, all hail from this time, most of them situated in what was likely the most interesting city in the world during those years- Berlin.

I've never been to Berlin, thought it's on the top of list of cities I'd like to visit. Not because of what it is now, though I'm sure that's interesting enough, but I want to go and delve into its past- specifically the past of the Wiemar era. In my imagination I think some of magic must still exist somewhere in corners of the city, waiting to be discovered, or uncovered, adn I read things every now and than which keeps this pecluliar hope alive.

Next Saturday night, April 9th, SFJazz is bringing some of that history to the Paramount Theatre in Oakland when they present Max Raabe and the Palast Orchester. If you ever wanted to know what it felt like to sit one of those theaters or clubs, listening to the glorious, elegant music of that era live, here's your chance.  Raabe, a classically trained opera singer, has been at this for awhile. He formed the Palast Orchester in 1987 with some fellow art students from Berlin who wanted to recreate the music of the 20's. More than 20 years later, they're still at it, touring worldwide, recording, and preserving the style and music of a unique era.

However, this is no nostalgia act. Rather it's a re-creation of an era, done with dedication and  talent. And what better place to do it in than the deco masterpiece of the Paramount Theatre? I've been listening to their live recording from Carnegie Hall, Heute Nacht Oder Nie, and what strikes me as remarkable is the authenticity of the sound. This is exactly what I would have imagined an orchestra to sound like at the time. Given that they mix in novelties from the Wiemar era and our own, it feels distinctly of a time long past but also speaks to this one.

Raabe will be there in white tie and tales, the rest of us can come as we are. It's truly going to be a special evening. There are only nine U.S. dates on this tour- get your tickets now. There are a few videos on Youtube to give you an idea of what this is all about- I thought this one was particularly good. If you want to stay on the side of the allies, SFJazz is also presenting the highly alluring singer Madeleine Peyroux this Friday night at the Palace of Fine Arts.Why not attend both?