That may seem like an oxymoron, for the very word "cultivating" assumes a certain level of premeditation. However, I have always been a planner and that's the way things go with me. Still, I am trying to welcome spontaneity these days, because, as my sister Hannah and I were discussing on Friday: spontaneity is the essence of real living.
And so it went: on Friday evening after work, I was stealing a few quiet moments on the front porch reading my book, having a drink, trying to decompress before the start of the weekend. Colin was somewhere with friends. Hannah and Isaac stopped by on their way to other things. We were chatting and such. When all of a sudden a very shiny Mercedes pulled in rather abruptly into the driveway of the apartment building across the street.
"Ooh," I said, "he's going to scrape bottom." (Every car that pulls into that drive scrapes bottom, as I've discovered sitting on this porch.) And sure enough, his shiny new car scraped bottom quite nicely. "Oh no! We all moaned." Soon after that another very nice shiny car pulled up to the drive, only this one was a mint-condition convertible from the 50s with pristine white-walled tires. He was about to pull in just as abruptly when we moaned, "No! Don't do it!" loud enough for him to hear. He slammed on the breaks and inched his way past the potholes relatively unscathed.
When the two men got out of their cars, they were looking over at us kind of funny. Questioning all the ruckus I suppose. "We just didn't want you to scrape bottom with that nice car," we explained from our perch on the porch. Turns out they were friends and the one in the antique car owns the apartment building there. So they were using the lot as free parking for a night out on the town. The older Mercedes gentleman pulled something from his pocket and started waving it towards us.
"I have two extra tickets to the Arturo Sandoval concert tonight at the Flynn and I'll sell them to you dirt cheap." (It was the opening night of the jazz festival and in my new not-plan-anything mode, we hadn't gotten tickets to any of the sure-to-be-amazing shows in town.) Hannah and I looked at each other, said, "Sorry Isaac," and then, "We'll take them!" to our new best friends across the street.
We quickly made the transaction in the middle of the street. Then ditched Isaac to run inside and freshen up. The show started in less than 30 minutes, but we were ready in 15. Hannah and I walked down to the Flynn giddy at the thought of our good luck. But getting to go to that show, we realized, was more than a spontaneous piece of luck . It was providence.
Even though I didn't know his name or music, I quickly discovered that Arturo Sandoval is a jazz trumpet icon from Cuba; he was a protege of Dizzy Gillespie way back when. This was going to be good!
As I watched and listened with awe to the width and breadth of his talent (he's also a renowned classical pianist) and the talent of his band members, I was thinking to myself, I don't think I've ever been in the presence of such greatness and so much talent and awesome movement. I was moved.
Sitting there in the dim lighting of the concert hall, I had the same sort of surreal feeling you get when you get off the airplane in another country, another language, another timeline. When a few hours before you were at home, drinking coffee, watching T.V. or whatever. It's exhilarating and unbelievably freeing.
An hour before I was on my porch waiting for the possibilities of the night to unfold. And that is how they unfolded: spontaneously and spectacularly.
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Sunday, June 06, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
our wedding soundtrack
We got the idea from our friends Brett & Elisa to make a mix for our out-of-town wedding guests to listen to at the hotel and on their trips back home. Every song or band we picked to go on the mix means something special to us. We had a lot going on the wedding weekend and forgot to include play lists in the welcome bag. Well here it is. Best soundtrack ever. :-)
L'autre Valse d'Amélie – Amélie
Lisztomania – Phoenix
New Theory – Washed Out
With You – Stars of Track and Field
This Charming Man – Stars
The Dress – Blonde Redhead
Night Time – XX
Inní mér syngur vitleysingur – Sigur Rós
The Funeral – Band Of Horses
Heartbeats – José González
Anything You Synthesize – The American Dollar
Love's Lost Guarantee – Rogue Wave
Strange things will happen – The Radio Dept.
Yours to Keep – Teddybears Stockholm
Pretty In Pink – The Psychedelic Furs
Hey You – Pony Pony Run Run
Vanished – Crystal Castles
Don't Ya Know? – Moonbabies
Help Help – Mates Of State*
Green Grass of Tunnel – Múm
Till There Was You – The Beatles
*going to see them on Wednesday at Higher Ground! So excited.
L'autre Valse d'Amélie – Amélie
Lisztomania – Phoenix
New Theory – Washed Out
With You – Stars of Track and Field
This Charming Man – Stars
The Dress – Blonde Redhead
Night Time – XX
Inní mér syngur vitleysingur – Sigur Rós
The Funeral – Band Of Horses
Heartbeats – José González
Anything You Synthesize – The American Dollar
Love's Lost Guarantee – Rogue Wave
Strange things will happen – The Radio Dept.
Yours to Keep – Teddybears Stockholm
Pretty In Pink – The Psychedelic Furs
Hey You – Pony Pony Run Run
Vanished – Crystal Castles
Don't Ya Know? – Moonbabies
Help Help – Mates Of State*
Green Grass of Tunnel – Múm
Till There Was You – The Beatles
*going to see them on Wednesday at Higher Ground! So excited.
Wednesday, September 09, 2009
september
How could it come so quickly? How could summer end so soon?
When I was younger, I used to listen to this song by Simon & Garfunkel, "April Come She Will." It's a wonderful little folk song about the months from April to September. It is such a short song and I was always so bummed how soon it was over that I would put it on repeat and keep playing it over and over.
Do you think that's how they intended it? To make it feel so fleeting as time often feels? Still, in real life, I wouldn't push the rewind button. I love September. I love the fall. I love the chilly nights. Here we are.
When I was younger, I used to listen to this song by Simon & Garfunkel, "April Come She Will." It's a wonderful little folk song about the months from April to September. It is such a short song and I was always so bummed how soon it was over that I would put it on repeat and keep playing it over and over.
Do you think that's how they intended it? To make it feel so fleeting as time often feels? Still, in real life, I wouldn't push the rewind button. I love September. I love the fall. I love the chilly nights. Here we are.
April come she will
When streams are ripe and swelled with rain;
May, she will stay,
Resting in my arms again.
June, she'll change her tune,
In restless walks she'll prowl the night;
July, she will fly
And give no warning to her flight.
August, die she must,
The autumn winds blow chilly and cold;
September I'll remember
A love once new has now grown old.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
it's summer, hot and heavy
Since I last wrote, summer solstice has come and gone and a sultry heat has settled on this place. When it's so hot, everything slows and expands and perspires. It's heavy. I want to soak my feet in a bowl of ice cubes. But at the same time, I just want to sweat it out.
When it's so hot, sharp focus gets fogged by a swelling cerebrum. I'm only half-present and half-functional right now.
It's been a strange day for more than that.
Farrah Fawcett died this morning. Then Michael Jackson this afternoon. Ed McMahon passed earlier this week. It's strange when cultural icons pass. Their careers, sometimes their entire lives, are recorded in a medium that never dies. And in that respect they live on and on and on.
But I'm still sad. To those of us who've never known the person, the sadness comes from the idea that a source of such amazing artistry and inspiration is no more. And also the idea of a person leaving this world too young and too violently—an exit that breaks the idealism of celebrity yet at the same time explodes their status to celestial heights. They'll always be superstars in my mind.
When it's so hot, sharp focus gets fogged by a swelling cerebrum. I'm only half-present and half-functional right now.
It's been a strange day for more than that.
Farrah Fawcett died this morning. Then Michael Jackson this afternoon. Ed McMahon passed earlier this week. It's strange when cultural icons pass. Their careers, sometimes their entire lives, are recorded in a medium that never dies. And in that respect they live on and on and on.
But I'm still sad. To those of us who've never known the person, the sadness comes from the idea that a source of such amazing artistry and inspiration is no more. And also the idea of a person leaving this world too young and too violently—an exit that breaks the idealism of celebrity yet at the same time explodes their status to celestial heights. They'll always be superstars in my mind.
Tuesday, June 02, 2009
david byrne on the green
Last night, David Byrne performed live on the green at Shelburne Museum. A bunch of us went with our blankets and picnic dinner and hats and sweaters and umbrellas (though we didn't need them after all).
At dusk, David Bryne and his band and dancers came on stage and performed an amazing show. The first half was his new material—a collaboration with Brian Eno. The second half was all Talking Heads. It was Sapphire's first rock show and she loved every minute. When "Burning Down the House" came on she start laughing and chatting and pumping her legs. Everyone was going crazy, dancing and singing and clapping and shouting. By the time the show was over, the crowd was so riled up, we clapped and clapped and cheered. The band came back for 4 encores! And for one of them David Byrne and all of his back-up singers came out wearing white tutus on top of their suits.
Here are some of my favorite pictures from the evening (and here are some more):
At dusk, David Bryne and his band and dancers came on stage and performed an amazing show. The first half was his new material—a collaboration with Brian Eno. The second half was all Talking Heads. It was Sapphire's first rock show and she loved every minute. When "Burning Down the House" came on she start laughing and chatting and pumping her legs. Everyone was going crazy, dancing and singing and clapping and shouting. By the time the show was over, the crowd was so riled up, we clapped and clapped and cheered. The band came back for 4 encores! And for one of them David Byrne and all of his back-up singers came out wearing white tutus on top of their suits.
Here are some of my favorite pictures from the evening (and here are some more):
Monday, September 22, 2008
to the royal mount
Montreal was a much-needed weekend getaway. We drove up Saturday after our morning coffee. It was a beautiful drive up with an endless clear blue sky. As we crossed the border from Vermont into Canada, the lush green forests diminished. Then it was golden cornfields stretching for miles, punctuated every now and then by clusters of old silos. Silos gave way to electrical towers the closer we got to the city. Corn fields gave way to concrete structures. We passed the Coca Cola man and knew we were close.
We headed towards centre-ville, passed the grain mills by the river.
Early afternoon sun cast jeweled reflections off some office buildings. They shimmered quietly as we passed.
After we checked into the hotel, we headed down to the old port area. It's touristy there, but we didn't care. We decided to grab some frites and wine at a little cafe.
It reminded us of Paris a little bit, and was almost romantic, despite the tacky parade of brides and white Hummer limos making their way through the small cobblestone streets of Old Montreal. We saw at least 10 different bridal parties having photoshoots among the picturesque buildings. I wish we had've taken some pictures of them ourselves.
I liked the green glass on this building.
A pagoda rooftop in China Town.
Finally, it was evening and so we headed back down to the piers for the Sigur Rós show. It was on the Quai Jacques Cartier with the city lights offering a gorgeous back-drop. We ran into Chip and Susan as we got to the entrance. Here, we were waiting in line to get into the show.
We were there early, so we walked around the Quai, got drinks and took pictures of the scenery...
Then Sigur Rós came on stage. They started playing, and it was pure magic. We were entranced. They city scape was bright and lively, with a large search light scanning the sky every minute or so. Yet, we were far enough removed that the setting was strangely quiet. Just like the music—lively, bright, complex, while at the same time serene, enchanting, dark. It was the perfect set really. I wonder if they planned it that way. Here's a picture of the stage with the city of Montreal in the background.
If you ever get the chance to see Sigur Rós live in concert, you must go. If you ever get the chance to see Sigur Rós live in concert, "en plein air" as the French say (outside) with the city of Montreal as a back-drop, you must, must go. As the band played, their ethereal sound bounced off the stage, bounced off the the waters of the St. Lawrence River behind us, off the buildings perched on the royal mount, and landed, hovering like a warm globe above our ears. It washed over us. And we were entranced. And then, there were dolls...
And then, there was fairy dust...
And rainbows... and passion... and fashion... And the show ended, just like that. But our senses remained piqued. We just had to walk it off.
We walked back up the hill and passed this fountain on the way. Underground lights infused the water with a fiery glow. We posed.
And that's that. I wish you could've been there.
They do too...
We headed towards centre-ville, passed the grain mills by the river.
Early afternoon sun cast jeweled reflections off some office buildings. They shimmered quietly as we passed.
After we checked into the hotel, we headed down to the old port area. It's touristy there, but we didn't care. We decided to grab some frites and wine at a little cafe.
It reminded us of Paris a little bit, and was almost romantic, despite the tacky parade of brides and white Hummer limos making their way through the small cobblestone streets of Old Montreal. We saw at least 10 different bridal parties having photoshoots among the picturesque buildings. I wish we had've taken some pictures of them ourselves.
I liked the green glass on this building.
A pagoda rooftop in China Town.
Finally, it was evening and so we headed back down to the piers for the Sigur Rós show. It was on the Quai Jacques Cartier with the city lights offering a gorgeous back-drop. We ran into Chip and Susan as we got to the entrance. Here, we were waiting in line to get into the show.
We were there early, so we walked around the Quai, got drinks and took pictures of the scenery...
Then Sigur Rós came on stage. They started playing, and it was pure magic. We were entranced. They city scape was bright and lively, with a large search light scanning the sky every minute or so. Yet, we were far enough removed that the setting was strangely quiet. Just like the music—lively, bright, complex, while at the same time serene, enchanting, dark. It was the perfect set really. I wonder if they planned it that way. Here's a picture of the stage with the city of Montreal in the background.
If you ever get the chance to see Sigur Rós live in concert, you must go. If you ever get the chance to see Sigur Rós live in concert, "en plein air" as the French say (outside) with the city of Montreal as a back-drop, you must, must go. As the band played, their ethereal sound bounced off the stage, bounced off the the waters of the St. Lawrence River behind us, off the buildings perched on the royal mount, and landed, hovering like a warm globe above our ears. It washed over us. And we were entranced. And then, there were dolls...
And then, there was fairy dust...
And rainbows... and passion... and fashion... And the show ended, just like that. But our senses remained piqued. We just had to walk it off.
We walked back up the hill and passed this fountain on the way. Underground lights infused the water with a fiery glow. We posed.
And that's that. I wish you could've been there.
They do too...
Monday, September 15, 2008
A gusting wind, and, music to lose yourself in
I was roused in the middle of the night last night by a fierce gusting wind forcing its way through the bedroom windows, pushing the long window panels virtually sideways. They were flapping loudly like the sails on a boat in an ocean storm and, as they parted and whipped from side to side, the street lamp outside cast eerie shadows onto the wooden floor. I got out of bed and closed the windows. But it only caused the old glass panes to rattle even more loudly. I finally fell back asleep, but kept waking to the loud, whipping wind that lasted till morning. It colored my dreams and when I finally awoke for good, it was an hour too late and I was out of sorts.
There’s another wind whipping around our place these days. It’s the wind of transition. People all around us are moving. They are changing. Ending life. Starting life. Starting new life together... The winter is coming. Meanwhile, here we stand, Col and I, feet firmly planted on solid ground. We’re rooted ever-deeper in this place. We bought a home here together. And we’re staying put. For a while anyhow.
It’s not easy to stand firmly in place when the winds of change are whipping their persuasive tendrils around your every limb. Pulling you this way and that to bigger and better things. Calling you to keep up with the rest of the crowd. Still, I’m determined to use this moment as motivation to make this place we’re attached to as vibrant and exciting as ever—in hopes that we don’t need to change ourselves to be happy, but just to change what we’re doing. It will require some effort, but not much I feel. Change can happen at home too.
So what’s first on the list? Colin and I are going to Montreal on Saturday (it’s right around the corner really). We’re going on an overnight trip to enjoy the city and see Sigur Ros in concert at the Quai Jacques Cartier. Colin used to play their music for me when we were first dating and even though we still listen to them all the time, I equate their music with that time in my life when I was falling in love. Everything was sensual, hopeful and exciting. Everything tasted good. Everything sounded good. Everything was good.
I am really excited for the show. I’ve never seen them live, but Colin has and he predicts this outdoor show will be amazing. Hope we have good weather. Maybe we’ll fit in some shopping in beforehand at the Atwater Market...
There’s another wind whipping around our place these days. It’s the wind of transition. People all around us are moving. They are changing. Ending life. Starting life. Starting new life together... The winter is coming. Meanwhile, here we stand, Col and I, feet firmly planted on solid ground. We’re rooted ever-deeper in this place. We bought a home here together. And we’re staying put. For a while anyhow.
It’s not easy to stand firmly in place when the winds of change are whipping their persuasive tendrils around your every limb. Pulling you this way and that to bigger and better things. Calling you to keep up with the rest of the crowd. Still, I’m determined to use this moment as motivation to make this place we’re attached to as vibrant and exciting as ever—in hopes that we don’t need to change ourselves to be happy, but just to change what we’re doing. It will require some effort, but not much I feel. Change can happen at home too.
So what’s first on the list? Colin and I are going to Montreal on Saturday (it’s right around the corner really). We’re going on an overnight trip to enjoy the city and see Sigur Ros in concert at the Quai Jacques Cartier. Colin used to play their music for me when we were first dating and even though we still listen to them all the time, I equate their music with that time in my life when I was falling in love. Everything was sensual, hopeful and exciting. Everything tasted good. Everything sounded good. Everything was good.
I am really excited for the show. I’ve never seen them live, but Colin has and he predicts this outdoor show will be amazing. Hope we have good weather. Maybe we’ll fit in some shopping in beforehand at the Atwater Market...
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
i heart halloumi
I always dread the drive down to NYC. Mostly because I know we'll be spending just about as much time in the car as we do on the actual streets of the city. But you know what? In the end, it's always SO worth it. We drove down to stay with our friends Courtney and Spencer last Friday night and got in around 12:30. I went straight to bed and didn't wake up till after 10 the next morning. The boys had already gone surfing and were on their way back to the city by time we gals got out of bed.
Courtney and I decided that their absence was a perfect excuse to hit up Cafe Mogador next door for a Moroccan brunch. I ordered my favorite dish: poached eggs with tomatoes and halloumi cheese. Mmm, it's so good! You just can't get that kind of meal in Burlington, Vermont.
After brunch, Courtney and I decided to go get our nails done. For $10, I just couldn't refuse. And I was so inspired by my nail color, I bought a skirt to match it from American American and wore it that very night. Here's me, waiting outside Lil Frankies for dinner in my new purple skirt and my new purple nails:
Dinner was so yummy. I had handmade beet and ricotta ravioli and a delicious Italian white wine (I don't remember the name; it was in Italian). After dinner, it was time to celebrate Courtney and Colin's birthdays. We went to a karaoke place in Little Korea. It was... a little sketchy.
The walls were covered in silver mirrors and there were white fake flowers hanging from the ceiling:
And the song list was mostly in Korean...
Still, we had a blast with tambourines and all. We finished the night on all cylinders with a late-night dance party in the basement of Lit:
Next morning, Col and I stopped in for another Middle Eastern breakfast at Cafe Orlin, before heading out of town. Short trip, but so good. Thanks Court & Spence! Hope we see you soon (and that it's for a house-warming party). xoxo
Courtney and I decided that their absence was a perfect excuse to hit up Cafe Mogador next door for a Moroccan brunch. I ordered my favorite dish: poached eggs with tomatoes and halloumi cheese. Mmm, it's so good! You just can't get that kind of meal in Burlington, Vermont.
After brunch, Courtney and I decided to go get our nails done. For $10, I just couldn't refuse. And I was so inspired by my nail color, I bought a skirt to match it from American American and wore it that very night. Here's me, waiting outside Lil Frankies for dinner in my new purple skirt and my new purple nails:
Dinner was so yummy. I had handmade beet and ricotta ravioli and a delicious Italian white wine (I don't remember the name; it was in Italian). After dinner, it was time to celebrate Courtney and Colin's birthdays. We went to a karaoke place in Little Korea. It was... a little sketchy.
The walls were covered in silver mirrors and there were white fake flowers hanging from the ceiling:
And the song list was mostly in Korean...
Still, we had a blast with tambourines and all. We finished the night on all cylinders with a late-night dance party in the basement of Lit:
Next morning, Col and I stopped in for another Middle Eastern breakfast at Cafe Orlin, before heading out of town. Short trip, but so good. Thanks Court & Spence! Hope we see you soon (and that it's for a house-warming party). xoxo
Thursday, December 13, 2007
all songs considered
Yesterday on my drive home from work, I heard a piece on NPR's All Things Considered about new trends in music that the station has discovered since posting a poll that asked for listeners' favorite albums of 2007. (Go vote for your favorite now. I voted for 23 by Blonde Redhead. And here Jeff McCord picks his top 10 songs of the year.) The top three trends? "More bands from Canada, more bands from Sweden and an obsession with animals." If you're intrigued like I was, you can listen to the entire piece including music clips on their site. I was particularly impressed by the clip they played of the Swedish band Loney, Dear.
When I got home, I decided to finally check out NPR's new music website (been meaning to do it for a while now) and was delightfully surprised. There's so much there! Go there to browse artists, listen to concerts and live streams, and read reviews and interviews.
My favorite section is called "Discover Music." There you can listen to the Song of the Day featuring a new artist and song every day. The feature gives a short summary of the artist or band and then a little description of what you'll be listening too. It's definitely the best way to discover new great music for people who don't have a lot of free time to surf the web.
Another feature is that you can add songs and concerts to your NPR playlist and cookies allow you to go back and listen to them even after you quit your browser (without the hassle of setting up a username and password). The service is free; all you have to do is watch a quick ad at the beginning of the song.
Go listen to some new music now!
When I got home, I decided to finally check out NPR's new music website (been meaning to do it for a while now) and was delightfully surprised. There's so much there! Go there to browse artists, listen to concerts and live streams, and read reviews and interviews.
My favorite section is called "Discover Music." There you can listen to the Song of the Day featuring a new artist and song every day. The feature gives a short summary of the artist or band and then a little description of what you'll be listening too. It's definitely the best way to discover new great music for people who don't have a lot of free time to surf the web.
Another feature is that you can add songs and concerts to your NPR playlist and cookies allow you to go back and listen to them even after you quit your browser (without the hassle of setting up a username and password). The service is free; all you have to do is watch a quick ad at the beginning of the song.
Go listen to some new music now!
Sunday, November 18, 2007
die fledermaus
That's German for: "The Bat," a cheeky little puppet opera Em and I attended last night at the Flynn Space, put on by the Viva La Voce Puppet Opera. I say "little," which it was in many aspects, quite especially in size, but in others it was large and grandiose.
Based on the operetta Die Fledermaus by Johann Strauss II, the puppet show, according to the show's program, tells the story of the wealthy Gabriel von Eisenstein, a gentleman of leisure.
Based on the operetta Die Fledermaus by Johann Strauss II, the puppet show, according to the show's program, tells the story of the wealthy Gabriel von Eisenstein, a gentleman of leisure.
In 1873, the Viennese Stock Exchange collapsed on a day called 'Black Friday.' What was urgently needed was a brilliant new operetta to cheer up the Viennese bourgeoisie and console them from their depleted bank accounts. The result was Die Fledermaus, first staged in Vienna, 1874.
Also known as The Revenge of the Bat, Die Fledermaus tells the story of the wealthy Gabriel von Eisenstein, now the object of exquisite revenge after he played a prank on the respected Dr. Falke (when Falke was dressed as a bat). A forthcoming party at the eccentric Prince Orlofsky's offers the opportunity Falke has been waiting for..."
I've never been to a puppet opera before, and so I didn't know what to expect. Opera? Puppets? Well, yes and yes!
It really was an opera: the show's producer, Roxanne Vought—who I recognized from Spielpalast Cabaret, local Vermont soprano Beth Thompson, and other singers carried us through a complicated little love affair half in German half in English and sometimes in French and Italian. And even though I don't speak the language, the story and emotion were quite clear in their every sound and movement.
But for me, what really stole the show were the puppets, reigning over a brightly lit puppet stand center stage. Costume couturier extraordinaire Kathleen DeSimone really outdid herself this time. The intricate detail and fabrication was exquisite. From the expressive dresses and suits right down to the top hats, masquerade masks, and lady fans—and right back up again to the people-proportioned costumes to match their mini-alter-egos.
The show was fun, light-hearted, and witty—a satire of wealth, love, deceit, and power. It offered us both plenty of chuckles throughout the night and culminated in the fourth act with all the drunk little puppets dancing and singing in the city's prison, all the whilst downing champagne and resolving to blame it all on the bubbly. And rightly so!
Sunday, November 11, 2007
nylon thinks burlington is cool
If you Burlingtonians haven't checked out the November issue of Nylon magazine yet, you should. There's a story on Burlington with some familiar faces printed therein! The article itself is kind of cutesie and patronizing: "Northern Exposure: On a roadtrip to Burlington, Vermont, we discover cool shops, a burgeoning Indie music scene, no shortage of stylish denizens...and not a single cow in sight." But they mention the Possibility Shop as "thrift-hunter's heaven" which leads me to believe that an insider's hand is involved. I hope they don't ruin it forever...
Other mentions include our friend Sarah's Made Boutique, Maven, Green Closet, Steez, etc.... And for music Marie Claire, James Kochalka, The Cush, and The Smittens with a photo of the one and only David Zacharis. And more!
Other mentions include our friend Sarah's Made Boutique, Maven, Green Closet, Steez, etc.... And for music Marie Claire, James Kochalka, The Cush, and The Smittens with a photo of the one and only David Zacharis. And more!
Friday, August 10, 2007
Everything is not what it seems
I went to the Band of Horses show last night and was pleased to find their live sound as clear, bright and lyrical as their recorded album, if not more. What I found surprising, however, was that the band members themselves were nothing like I expected. Instead of trendy, hipster girly-boys--as their music might suggest--all six band members had beards. Long, scraggly, bushy things. Woodstock beards. Hippy. Earthy. But certainly not hipster (unless of course, beard is the new hipster trend, which isn't totally off base, I suppose, because of the irony of it all. Don't ask me).
It's not that scraggly beards are really that relevant to the music. But last night, was it me, or did Band of Horses sound more country than before?
This is funny to me: it's like discovering that Picasso was a womanizer or that Hemingway was chronically depressed and had a drinking habit or that J.K. Rowling is a woman or that Ellen Degeneres is a lesbian. Do we really want to know the truth behind the art form? Because once you cross that line, once you make that discovery about who the artist is, you superimpose new assumptions and prejudices to the art itself. Everything changes. You start judging the artwork by your value judgments of the person. Does that destroy the integrity of the art?
Then again, don't the beards inform the person who's informing the music? Aren't Picasso's views on women and Hemingway's views on liquor inextricably linked to the artwork? Otherwise, it's like saying artists have the canny ability to separate their personal experiences and personal character from what they do. And that's just oxymoronic.
However, now I'm confused and it's Friday night and I want to go have some wine.
xoxo
It's not that scraggly beards are really that relevant to the music. But last night, was it me, or did Band of Horses sound more country than before?
This is funny to me: it's like discovering that Picasso was a womanizer or that Hemingway was chronically depressed and had a drinking habit or that J.K. Rowling is a woman or that Ellen Degeneres is a lesbian. Do we really want to know the truth behind the art form? Because once you cross that line, once you make that discovery about who the artist is, you superimpose new assumptions and prejudices to the art itself. Everything changes. You start judging the artwork by your value judgments of the person. Does that destroy the integrity of the art?
Then again, don't the beards inform the person who's informing the music? Aren't Picasso's views on women and Hemingway's views on liquor inextricably linked to the artwork? Otherwise, it's like saying artists have the canny ability to separate their personal experiences and personal character from what they do. And that's just oxymoronic.
However, now I'm confused and it's Friday night and I want to go have some wine.
xoxo
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