Friends, Edmontonians, Countrymen…
I have been neglegent and left this blog to rot far longer than I should have. Likely, I have lost many readers and/or subscribers. Luckily, I never got around to setting up Google Analytics for this blog, so I am unaware of the stats.
Regardless, I am back, and I’m telling you about the Edmonton International Jazz Festival. Last night, June 20, was the first night of this year’s festival and I, the River City Writer, was present at one of the shows.
I checked out the Four Corners Quartet, who were part of the Club Series, at hulbert’s. They played a mix of originals and standards, with an emphasis on the standards. Though not a huge jazz cat, I recognized a good number of the standards.
There was a lot of Charlie Parker, and some Miles Davis, which is to be expected when the leader of the band is a sax player. Oddly, I think there were a few Thelonious Monk songs in the mix, which is odd, given that there was not a piano in sight. Of course, like I said, I’m not a jazz expert, so I could be wrong about the Monk bits.
I didn’t get a chance to speak to them, but I believe the Four Corners Quartet is from Edmonton, so if you see them around town, I recommend that you check them out. In the meantime, be sure to check out the rest of the Festival.
The Edmonton International Jazz Festival runs until June 29, 2008. For a full schedule of events check out the 2008 Jazz Festival Calendar.
After being on hiatus since December, the Raving Poets are back with their 2008 Spring Season, titled Heart Beat.
For those who may not know about the Raving Poets, here’s a run down of what goes on at these things:
- People drink a lot of alcohol.
- People read poems—some are good, some are not-so-good, almost all are interesting in one way or another.
- The band rocks out (jazzes out?).
There is, of course, a bit more order and structure than I’m letting on, but the point is that the Raving Poets Experience is unlike anything else. It’s part spoken word, part live improvisational music, and part bacchanalian release.
If you’ve never experienced the Raving Poets, I highly recommend you come and check it out. It runs every Wednesday at 8:00pm for the next 13 weeks down at Kasbar Lounge (10444 Whyte Avenue, downstairs from Yianni’s). If you want to get on the reader list, you’ll have to arrive early: sign-up is at 7:30pm and closes promptly at 8pm.
For more information about Heart Beat, check out the Raving Poets website.
And now, for the final piece(s) of the night, Duke Ellington’s arrangement of a suite from Tchaikovsky’s The Nutcracker.
Jazz…and The Nutcracker. I’ve never heard this arrangement before, but I’ve got to say I’m loving it. It’s a great twist on pieces that, while great in their own right, can sometimes feel tiresome after hearing them every year when the holidays roll ’round.
It’s funny, like most people, I have some familiarity with The Nutcracker (though, I admit, I’m not a huge fan, so I’m hardly an expert), but I’m having some trouble recognizing the different songs. I mean, I know they’re from The Nutcracker, and I know that I recognize them, but…well…I don’t recognize them.
I realize, of course, just how little sense that phrase makes, but hopefully you’re able to decode my cryptic ramblings and get some sense of what I’m trying to say.
Obviously, I’m not allowed to record this evening’s performance, but I’m sure you can find a version of the Ellington arrangement of The Nutcracker online somewhere. I highly recommend it.
Ah…here’s one I recognize. “Dance of the Sugarplum Fairies,” or, as Ellington’s version is called, “Dance of the Sugar Rum Cherry.” If you’d have told me before tonight that I would ever be using the word “sexy” to describe “Dance of the Sugarplum Fairies,” I’d have called you a liar, but there is some definite sexiness coming from the horn section right now.
And now: “March” (known tonight as “Peanut Brittle Brigade”. Another instantly recognizable yet totally unexpected version of a song that almost everyone in the Western world knows. I can’t say that I disapprove of this version.
Really, this entire Ellington suite has been very cool. It’s very different from the traditional versions, of course, but that’s the beauty of it. I really do recommend looking for a version of it online, or picking up a record if you can find one. You’ll thank me later.
And, that, ladies and gentlemen, is #5.
Note: I’ll probably go through and edit these posts sometime tomorrow, and toss up some afterthoughts, so make sure to check out River City Writer again tomorrow.
And, we’re back… with “Dreaming of the Masters II- Rhapsody GEB,” which was written by Allan Gilliland especially for Eddins, who is conducting and playing the piano. Impressive. And on top of that, he appears to be playing without reading any music. Extra impressive.
Unfortunately, we’re having a moment of technical difficulties—the sound system in the room isn’t working—so I can’t tell just how impressive it truly is. This room is quiet soundproof. We’re able to hear some of the louder parts…and, there we go. We’ve got sound again.
Seriously…conducting and playing the piano? I’ve never seen that before. I don’t want to call it gimmicky, because it’s really not, and he’s doing a good job of it, but it’s so usual that I really don’t know what else to say about this piece.
Let’s start with this: it’s beautiful. I love jazz piano, and this is jazz with an orchestra. It’s got all the playfulness of jazz, with the power of the symphony. Very cool. I’m not even sure what to call this. It’s not jazz, but it’s definitely got elements of jazz to it.
Whatever it is, it’s an enchanting piece of music. It reminds me of the ocean…East Coast ocean, with large waves crashing against cliffs on a grey day. Except, it’s happening in slow motion. And in silence. And in black and white. The music is the soundtrack to a silent movie whose core emotion I can’t quite pin down.
In the midst of this, there is a moment of high energy. We’re in a dance hall or a ballroom somewhere. We’re in the same film, but now there is colour. Are we in the same location? Is this dance hall in a town on Canada’s east coast, or somewhere in New England?
We’re taken back outside for a brief moment before something dark and sinister creeps in. Violence? No. There’s a playful note underneath this seemingly dark section. It’s audible in the music, and visible in the way that Eddins is moving and interacting with the musicians he’s leading.
Still, something here is not quite kosher. There is a tension. Is it a fight? Is it tension between lovers? Whatever it is, we’ve hit the big jazz number. This could be a playful dance between two strong characters, or it could be the lead-up to a fight between two rivals.
And…wow…let’s call that #4 with a bang! If I wasn’t in this room, I might even been standing with the few people who are giving a standing ovation.
Ladies and gentlemen, Bill Eddins has left the stage. And he has returned with a microphone. With rock star panache, he does the whole, “How are you doing out there?” Weak applause are followed by what is essentially an, “I can’t hear you!” Louder applause…
Eddin’s between-song banter proves again the man’s sense of humour, and ability to make classical music accessible to everyone. (Note to the purists: Yes, I’m using “classical” as a broad-sweeping term to cover a wide array of “art music,” which is not necessarily classical music in the technical sense of the term. Deal with it.)
And now…a piece from what may be the quintessential American opera—Porgy and Bess.
I admit, I have absolutely no knowledge of this song. Hell, I has essentially no knowledge of opera. I respect it as an art form, but I often find that those who perform it almost have too much respect for the music. Rarely do they take risks with it. Rarely do they approach old operas from new angles.
There’s something to be said for purity in art, and I would never suggest that we abandon the traditional versions of our great works of art—opera, theatre, film, whatever—but as society changes and moves forward through history, it would be nice to see how our current sensibilities affect our approach to older forms of “high art” such as the opera.
Of course, having about as much knowledge of opera as the chair I’m sitting on, I has no way of knowing whether Eddins and the ESO are taking any risks with this performance. (I realize that this makes my whole tangent about taking risks with opera a bit ignorant, but I stand by it nonetheless.)
Suddenly, we hit a sequence that rings familiar in my ears. I have heard this song before…or at least something inspired by it (or which inspired it?). I can’t place it, but I’ve got Google and Wikipedia for after the show. I’ll inform myself as best I can and, if I figure it out, I’ll report back.
And with the end of that piece, we’ll call this “Dispatch #2.”
Afterthought: I’m hearing the word “musical” tossed about in blogger’s room. Is it a musical or an opera? Proof of my ignorance, I suppose.
The crowd shuffles in. A letter from the mayor regarding ESO conductor Bill Eddins’ tendency to shake his ass while conducting is read. It is, of course, a letter praising what Eddins has done for music in Edmonton (which is that he’s made it more vibrant that ever). Laughter ensues.
Eddins himself walks out. Applause. And we’re into the first piece of the evening.
West Side Story…complete with finger-snapping, but minus the highly-trained dancing gang members. I’ve got to say, I much prefer this symphonic version to the campy musical theatre version of the song, but it does feel weird to have no pirouetting Sharks and Jets stabbing each other with perfect choreography as the song reaches one of it’s dramatic peaks.
Suggestion: split the symphony in half. One side, the Sharks; the other side, the Jets. Knives replaced with cellos and trombones. It’d be a musical disaster, but it might do something to get Edmontonians more interested in the symphony.
Of course, I’m kidding. Despite what the cynics will tell you, Edmonton is an art’s city. From up here in the press box, I can see that most of the seats are filled. This city does love it’s symphony (a little too much, perhaps, given our inclination to every performance and standing ovation).
For those who’ve never seen or heard the ESO perform, the good things people tend to say about them are true. If you have any doubt about their ability to draw a crowd into the music, come to the Winspear and get a seat in one of the balconies. You’ll see the way people lean forward in their seats, even before the first piece is finished, to catch every note.
Even folks like me, who have a rather short attention span, will be completely enraptured and taken in my the quality of the performance (and the famous Winspear acoustics). Even as I try to write this blog entry, I find myself drawn into the music, distracted from the glowing screen in front of me. Given that I may have a minor case of “Internet addiction,” this is no small feat.
And, as this symphonic gang fight wraps up, let’s call that “Dispatch #1.”
Just a quick reminder that tonight is Blog Night @ the ESO. This means that journalist-bloggers Elizabeth Withey and Todd Babiak, as well as 3 random Edmonton bloggers—Eric Mulder, Darlene Hildebrandt, and me—will be blogging about tonight’s ESO performance. There was supposed to be a 4th person, but the Journal hasn’t linked to any other blogs at the time of writing this post, so I’m assuming that there won’t be a 4th citizen journalist type person after all.
So, if you’re not already going to be attending the tonight’s performance, and if you have nothing better to do on a Friday night that to live vicariously through other people’s blogs, please keep your eyes on the 5 blogs listed above.
If, on the other hand, you do have something better to do, feel free to go and do it. It’s absolutely beautiful outside, and these blogs things apparently get etched onto one of the tubes that make up the internet for all eternity. Basically, even if I delete this, you can still find it if you look hard enough (unless I manage to be faster than Google).
The point is this: I will be blogging live from the ESO tonight, as will 4 other people. If you’ve got nothing better to do, read our reports as they come in. If you do have better things to do, well, read our reports later. Either way, read our reports. We writers are a sensitive lot and it makes us feel sad when no one bothers to read the dreck we publish.
A few weeks ago, I entered a contest which I subsequently forgot about. The prize, as it were, is a pair of tickets to the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra (ESO) on February 22, 2008.
But, that’s not all. The deal is that the winners will live blog the performance. I figured that River City Writer would be a perfect blog for this sort of thing.
Evidently, the ESO agreed, as I got a call a few minutes ago informing me that I’ve been chosen to be one of bloggers for this event.
This is very cool. I get free tickets to the symphony, free food and drinks while I’m at the show, an opportunity to meet conductor Bill Eddins (who will also be on piano for this performance), as well as some of the other musicians who’ll be involved.
On top of that, my review of the show will be featured on www.edmontonjournal.com.
As you can imagine, I’m pretty pumped about this. This is the sort of thing I want to be able to do with this blog. But, ticket prices often keep me away from events like this (plus, normally, you can’t blog during a performance).
So, keep your eye to River City Writer on the evening of Friday, February 22, and you’ll get as close to being at the symphony as you possibly can be (without actually being there, of course).
The Raving Poets‘ latest series—Space Monkey: The Series—starts tonight.
Kasbar Lounge (10444 Whyte Avenue) will once again be home to the mix of spoken word poetry and improvised musical accompaniment.
There is a pretty big prize that will be given away as part of this series, which I’m not at liberty to reveal quite yet. (If you read the site earlier today, you already know what it is.)
While I can’t tell you what the prize is, I can tell you this: it’s huge. It’s probably the biggest prize ever awarded at the Raving Poets.
Of course, even without a prize, the Raving Poets stage is still the best place in the city to see high energy spoken word poetry.
If you’re interested in performing, or just watching a bunch of booze-fuelled poets spit verse, come down to Kasbar every Wednesday until December 12.
Space Monkey: The Series runs every Wednesday until December 12, 2007 at Kasbar Lounge (10444 Whyte Avenue) below Yianni’s Taverna. Sign-up for the open mic is at 7:30pm; show starts at 8pm.
This post isn’t about Edmonton, per se, but it could be of use to Edmonton musicians. I know there are a lot of talented acts in this city, and most of them are unsigned and/or unknown outside of River City. The 4am is a podcast mixed by Warren Ellis. In Ellis’ own words:
The 4am is a mixtape file containing nothing but music donated directly by new and/or unsigned acts. The 4am is of no set length and is released on no set schedule. The 4am is mixed down to 128 of the kbps. The 4am is not afraid of your nipples. The 4am is imflammable.
If you’re a new or unsigned act, who wants to get some exposure (international exposure, no less), then you may want to consider sending your mp3s to Warren Ellis. If he likes what you’re doing, you might make it onto an episode of The 4am.
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