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A walk by the water
After seeing The Bourne Supremacy with bobhowe and eleanor and eating dinner at Southwest in the World Financial Center, which I can enjoy again now that I don’t have work lunches there twice a week, I walked down the Battery Park City promenade and took some photos with a new lens.
Shown here is the seal of the City of New York, one of several reliefs by the sculptor Paul Manship (who did the sculpture of Atlas at Rockefeller Center) rescued from the demolished New York Coliseum. Along with two companions (the New York State seal and the seal of the Triborough Bridge and Tunnel Authority, which is to say, Robert Moses’ imperial seal), it’s mounted on the front of the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel building, which was made famous (sans seals) as the headquarters of the Men In Black.
Red Hook Ruins
Tone Johansen, who runs Sunny’s Bar in Red Hook, is not only a gifted singer but an extraordinary artist. A few months back she featured her own work in an exhibition in the back room, and I was so taken with one of the pieces that I had to have it for my own.
Ashokan
I spent all of last week at the Ashokan Fiddle and Dance Camp in the Catskills, playing old-time music. (And not reading much email or checking LJ at all, so apologies to anyone I’ve been ignoring.) This camp is run by Jay Ungar and Molly Mason. Jay is a fiddler, and wrote the tune “Ashokan Farewell” which became somewhat famous thanks to its use in Ken Burns’ Civil War documentary. Molly is a multi-instrumentalist who’s also written quite a few tunes.
Old-time music is southern American dance music — fiddles and banjos mainly, playing traditional tunes, usually instrumentally but sometimes with lyrics. (A lot of Cajun players also come to this camp, but I didn’t play much of that, at least not this year.) It’s similar to bluegrass and many people confuse them, particularly since many old-time tunes are also bluegrass tunes, but the main difference is in how the songs are played. Old-time musicians generally play the melody, together, perhaps doing some ornaments and such, but mostly playing as a group. Bluegrass tunes are generally played as a series of breaks, with each player taking one chorus and going all out. I love and play both styles, but I’ll be focusing a lot more on old-time music, which is more about the beauty (and/or the drive) of the melody than on individual feats of musicianship.
Ashokan is different from (and much better than) any other program like this I’ve attended. Not only because the communal approach attracts a different kind of musician, but because it’s run by a couple who love this music and have spent their lives playing it and sharing it.
Like most programs, Ashokan offers a series of workshops and classes during the day, for instruments, singing and dancing, and concerts, dances, and time for jamming at night. The instructors are there for the whole time, so you can play with them at night or sit with them at lunch or corner them for a private lesson.
Unlike other programs, Ashokan seems to attract a friendlier crowd that’s more serious about the music and less interested in showing off or one-upping each other. Workshops were relaxed, jams didn’t get so large as to be out of control, and I didn’t once see anyone disrespected or ostracized for not being able to play “well enough.”
And the food was good. This may sound like a minor issue but it isn’t. At other music weeks I’ve been to, I’d be feeling tired and sick-ish by the fourth or fifth day, thanks to a combination of staying up late (to jam) and getting up early (to get to class) and not eating well. The last is not a problem at Ashokan; the meals are delicious, with lots of fresh vegetables and greens, and the dining hall is open at all hours so you can get coffee, tea or fresh fruit. They even offer a gigantic midnight snack, just what you need to go from a few hours of dancing to a few more hours of singing and playing, or vice versa. (And yes, I danced my first contra and square dances at Ashokan, and had a blast.)
But the real highlight for me was singing, and in particular, the duet harmony class taught by Carl Jones and Beverly Smith. Some of you may remember my Close as Brothers CD mix of country harmony songs a while back; this class focused on the music of the Blue Sky Boys, one of the groups in that collection. They’re achingly beautiful songs, and when you and your partner really hit the harmony right, the feeling is just indescribable. My other classes were great, but exhausting; the duets class was a complete energy charge.
I also took a fingerstyle guitar class, only lasting three days before deciding he’d gone beyond what I could process (and also no longer being able to get to a 9:30 class), a class on waltzes where Jay taught the melody and Molly taught brilliant accompaniment, and another harmony class on four-part gospel singing.
I have in all seriousness been saying this was one of the best weeks of my life, and it’s not hyperbole. Now all I need to do is catch up on sleep.
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Posted in Music, Uncategorized
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Subway Flooding: Yes, It’s Gotten Worse
As someone who’s been riding the subways for more than 30 years, and commuting on them for about 20 years, I’ve been asking myself recently, “Did the subways always collapse completely every time it rains?” I don’t remember the magnitude of disruption that we’ve seen today, or several times this year, happening very often if at all years ago.
This morning, every single line in the city (great screen shot of the MTA’s site, courtesy nyhamsterhouse) was disrupted by an intense, but not unprecedented storm. Newsday is reporting that 1.5″ rain was falling per hour overnight (from the National Weather Service). And the entire subway system is flooded out and not working.
So I spent some time this morning searching back through the New York Times archives, and I found that my memory is accurate. System-wide disruptions caused by rain are much more frequent, and more severe, than they used to be. Storms like today’s and worse have happened in the past with much less effect.
Saturday Night at Sunny’s
It’s crowded, hot, humid, and almost as smelly as a locker room. There’s an inner circle of musicians playing furiously, an outer circle of those taking a rest or not able/willing to keep up, and a crowd of onlookers, and no room to move. The bow of the fiddle player next to you threatens your left eye. Tony’s guitar goes over your head and his mandolin comes back in a careful ballet. Fred kicks off a tune at his usual lightning speed. Joe bumps his bass forward grinning like “Yeah, you think I can’t keep up?” Kari and Rick are playing twin fiddle lines with Michael’s mom — he brought his visiting parents down to the jam even though he usually has a paying gig. His dad’s playing banjo and his mom is laughing as her bow flies and Michael’s flatpick is a blur. You can’t drink enough water and you can’t get to the bar for more and at 1.30 you finally decide that if you are going to drive home from Red Hook safely you better leave soon even though they’re starting “Bill Cheatham.”
Posted in Music, Uncategorized
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Hummer Recovery Unit
Rationally, one must look down on Land Rovers as well as on Hummers; both are ridiculous vehicles to be driving around the city or the suburbs. I’m sure the driver of this vehicle would be upset if someone bumped his precious gas hog while parking, never mind the thought of driving it into the brush to rescue another 4×4.
But … the Hummer is a lot bigger, and a lot uglier, and a lot more wasteful, and if even Land Rover drivers are making fun of them I can do nothing but cheer them on. I gave this guy a wave on the way by. |