Open Square Holyoke

Open Square Holyoke

Last August this video was pulling advertisers like crazy, among them Ann Coulter. Now, there are only house ads being displayed. Can anybody guess why?

Mid August 2011

Our son and his wife just celebrated their first wedding anniversary. The blackberry crop has been great; we will see what this steady rain does to it. The maple tree which fell in the storm has now been picked up and sawed up. Quite a brush pile building up again. In the store, we added Paypal to our payment options. The search engines are still sending us orders for record styli. LIFE magazines and records continue to hop along. We keep adding to stuff in the barn for a big book and record sale out there.

Moneyblows Books Music at amazon.com since 1999

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Capitalizing the Wind: allocating capital for wind energy in a political framework

If you spot the moneyblowsmobile, post a pic at Mike Moneyblows on Facebook

Moneyblows Books Music at amazon.com since 1999

Biblio member since 2005

member of Global Electronic Music Marketplace since 1998

Capitalizing the Wind: allocating capital for wind energy in a political framework

If you spot the moneyblowsmobile, post a pic at Mike Moneyblows on Facebook

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2 previously unrelated subjects: syllableables and wind farm news

getting this graphic out of the old eMac like pulling teeth

I keep the old eMac plugged in, even though the internal modem fried in an electric incident. It has nice internal stereo speakers, I got good music on it and can play some DVDs on there too.
Discovering I had nothing on the windows laptop to overlay type on a picture, I tried pulling up an ancient Adobe Photoshop. Just placing this type took almost two hours, plenty of restarts, and endlessly watching the little round palette twirl.
For quite a few years, the eMac has been a bit confused. Perhaps it never liked being adrift from the internet.
Its only connection to the outside world may be the USB connection and the still functioning DVD drive. Insert metaphor here.

Demotion of the artifact: kilogram to the dustbin of history?

This link to the New York Times article may self destruct

The Broadside Ballad by Leslie Shepard

The following quote comes from page 105 of The Broadside Ballad by Leslie Shepard, a book we sold today. He is referring to the descent of a ballad from its "noble" beginnings to the custody of hoarders and collectors. I found words which ring true to the task we have appointed ourselves at moneyblows books and music

“This, then, is the last descent of balladry. An ancient and noble inspiration flowered with the seasons in the countryside, passed to beggar, rogue and mountebank, was sold for pennies in the streets, finally stolen and hoarded as dry leaves in the libraries of fanatical collectors. Yet it is the same impulse that runs through the whole of our great ballad story. The range of human emotions is the same, whether a man writes a song or a thesis. One man earns an honest living, another cheats for pennies; one dies for a song, another sings for his supper. Life is a gigantic affair of many intricate and contradictory aspects, and if our elemental origins seem more heroic than the everyday passions and topics of civilization, they are none the less only part of the same picture.
The secret of the Universe may not be bought for a penny, but it is on these sheets and in the commerce that goes with them. The profound and the trivial in human affairs have always coexisted, and the real meaning of life lies in the truth that transcends both. All our affairs, large or small, are swept away in the great tide of history, and the passing pageant of life itself is as insubstantial as a dream. Everything that belongs to the everyday world of the senses is a moment only in our human consciousness, essentially ephemeral—like old scraps of paper or the words of a ballad half remembered.
There are as many ballads as pebbles on a beach, and they are of all sorts and shapes. Just as we collect new experiences and compare them with old ones, so we collect old and new songs to learn a little more about life. And collect we must, before these fragments pass away.
In 1892, The Rev. S. Baring-Gould, a great collector of folk songs and broadside ballads, wrote:
‘It is but a matter of a few years and the broadside will be as extinct as the Mammoth and the Dodo, only to be found in the libraries of collectors. Already sheets that fetched a ha’penny thirty years ago are cut down the middle, and each half fetches a shilling. The garlands are worth more than their weight in gold. Let him that is wise collect whilst he may.’”

Here's one of the ballads illustrated in Shepard's book. It adds a new range of meaning to a familiar song such as Lefty Frizzell's If you've got the money honey, I've got the time. This ballad is from the 18th century:

One morning of late, as I walk’d in great state
I heard a maiden making sad moan
I ask’d her the matter, she said, sir, I won’t flatter
I am weary of tumbling alone

O that is pity, that a maiden so pretty
And the young men so idle are grown
But a curse light upon it, and worse may come on it
If I leave you a tumbling alone

O then, says the sailor, can you fancy me
I have got gold, and got silver in store
I have brought from the sea, such a fine remedy
That will ease you of tumbling alone

Oh then, says the fair maid, if you can fancy me,
I have got plenty of money in store,
No more cross the main, to fight France nor Spain,
Nor go where the cannons loud roar

O then, says the sailor, I can fancy you,
As long as your money doth last,
She grows thick in the waist, and thin in the face,
But the sailor he steers off at last

As down in the garden there grows a red rose,
I’ll pluck it, and call it my own,
In an hour it will fade, and so will a maid,
That’s weary of tumbling alone

Frankie McWhorter: Cowboy Fiddler in Bob Wills' Band

This excellent narrative, as told to John R. Erickson and published in 1997, offers some great commentary on Bob Wills' playing out of meter.
To quote from p. 34: "one time the band was recording a song and one of the musicians quit playing. Bob asked him what was wrong. 'Bob, you're playing that song out of meter.' Bob asked him what he meant by that. 'Well, you're holding that note thirteen beats and you ought to be holding it just four.' And he played it and showed Bob what he meant.
"Bob said, 'That's the way I feel it. That's the way I do it, whether it's right or wrong, and that's the way we're going to do it. If the Lord had written the first music, I wouldn't question you at all, but a man wrote the first music and for all you know, I may be smarter than he was. If you don't want to play it like this, put your fiddle up and be gone.' And the old boy left.
From page 38:
"A lot of those tunes were out of meter. When he found a note he liked, he'd hang on to it."
From page 61:
"He'd play out of tune on occasion and he'd break meter quite often. The people who were studied and professional knew that they were right and he was wrong. But what they didn't take into consideration was that he was Bob Wills, and he was signing the checks."
Frankie McWhorter was a Texas Playboy in the 1950s and 60s. Regarding his "out of tune" comment, he refers elsewhere in the book to twin-fiddling with Bob, where he played the same notes out of tune each time, because he liked it that way,and Frankie had to learn those notes and positions, as well as emulate Bob Wills' long bow technique.
I enjoyed so many of these details in the book, as they help articulate Bob Wills' blues and jazz interests, which stood him apart from all other fiddlers, and in his fame, stood him apart from all other country bands. The term "western swing," which to some seems archaic and descriptive of a certain pragmatic approach to dance music, seems to me more than ever a term of high esteem and honor, standing on its own and not just a hybrid of other things.

Use these photos to identify the mfr. and model of your record needle!

Woody Guthrie, Big Bend, and making it all up

Woody Guthrie's Seeds of Man was inspired by a 1931 trip the author remembered.... or mis-remembered... in 1947-8. The novel wasn't published until 1976.
By evidence of this rambling tome, Woody Guthrie wrote more about his 1931 trip to Big Bend, than about any other single topic. Although, that may be unfairly comparing songs to prose.
A visitor to the mysterious border wilderness known as Big Bend, where Seeds of Man is set, will not quickly grasp how formative was Guthrie's own visit. He was an impressionable young man in 1931 whose travels thus far had been limited to Oklahoma and Texas. Woodrow Wilson Guthrie took his family gift of music and optimism farther than any Guthrie had before. It some ways, it could be said this magical trip started it all.
In 1941 he was part of the propaganda effort for the Coulee and Bonneville dams on the Columbia River. 26 ballads in 30 days, he had so much creativity coming out of him. His autobiographical novel Bound for Glory came in 1943. As he began to feel the curse of Huntington's Disease in the late 1940's, he typed like a madman on a novel he originally titled Study Butte,calling it "An Experience Lived and Dreamed," the chronicle of a search to look for his family's lost silver claim in the Christmas Mountains.
According to family legend, Guthrie patriarch Jeremiah Pearsall Guthrie, "Jerry P.," had a brother Gid who owned much of what became the Sam Nail ranch. The remains of Sam Nail's ranch buildings, including a still-pumping water well which feeds a desert oasis, were at my last visit (20+ years ago),located a mere five minute walk from Ross Maxwell Drive in the park, clearly marked for tourists.
Jerry P. helped out intermittently on Gid's ranch, chasing cows and guarding his property against Mexican raids. On one of these forays, he discovered ore while stopping to take a drink from a mineral spring. It was assayed as $100 of silver per ton, $10 of gold, plus copper, zinc, mercury and other minerals. Jerry P. left his name on a piece of paper wired to a pile of flat rocks to mark his claim.
Instead of returning to work the claim, he was distracted by news of free Oklahoma land being given to native Americans whose names appeared on tribal rolls. Jerry P.'s second wife had been one eighth Creek, so he figured he had a shot. He moved back to Oklahoma, didn't get the land, and died before he could return to Big Bend.
When I talked with Guthrie biographer Joe Klein about this story, he said, "the idea that Jerry P. Guthrie had discovered a rich vein of silver in the mountains near Uncle Gid's ranch was one of the least likely and most persistent of family legends."
So persistent in fact, that Woody, his father Charley, brother Roy, and uncle Jeff Davis Guthrie, went on a "strange, joyous, memorable debacle" in search of the wealth.
As Seeds of Man describes, they drove from Pampa, Texas to the desert in 2 days in a broken down old Model T. As they drove into Terlingua they saw the mansion of the owner of the quicksilver mine, on the right up on a hill, where it stood when last seen. At my decades-ago visit, the building was occupied by Pam Weir, proprietor of the Desert Deli & Diner in the Terlingua ghost town.
Down below, he saw the adobe shacks of the mine workers, an image that would stick with Woody Guthrie.
Over to the east from Terlingua were the Chisos Mountains, which he would describe from memory 16 years later in his 842-page manuscript.
As the story goes, they came into Terlingua, wended their way to Study Butte, and found their way to Sam Nail's ranch. The tattered maps treasured in the Guthrie family outlined the location of the mine from Nail Ranch. Sam and his brother had found a small pocket of native quicksilver while walking to Alpine through the Christmas Mountains. Although the Nail entourage had been unable to locate the quicksilver pocket on their return trip, word of their discovery eventually led to the Wright mine and

the development of the Terlingua mining district, which extended 16 miles from Study Butte west to Lajitas, and was 5 miles north to south. When the Guthries met up with Sam Nail, they agreed to share the wealth.
Even though traces of cinnabar, or quicksilver ore, had been reported early as 1889, large scale production began around 1903 with founding of the Chisos Mining Company, and was a linchpin of the local economy until 1946 (and then again for a short time in the 1960s).
Of the novel, Joe Klein told me, "he made it all up.... it was maybe that one trip when he was really close to his dad and his uncle, and it was the kind of thing that was mostly bereft in his childhood."

Michael Feinstein's American Songbook DVD set

This Three-Park Series on PBS is subtitled "Cultural History, Intimate Biography, and a front-row seat at great live performances." It is all that and more. The cultural history revolves around how the "American Songbook" was once focused on movies and plays, how it became a propaganda arm of the Allies in WWII, and how things changed after that war.

The intimate biography is of Michael Feinstein, not that intimate perhaps, but focusing on his acquisition of artifacts from the 20th century American Songbook, in order to keep the 21st century from forgetting them. This is the part that engaged me the most. Feinstein knocks on doors of collections both grandly indexed and-- just as likely-- sadly dilapidated. He zeroes right in on items of merit, if you believe the DVD, but editing must have helped. Though his scouting is far more glamorous than my own similar journeys, the end result is, for old musical memorabilia, the same. A temporary reprieve from the landfill.

People just don't have time to see what's on those old tape reels, acetates, records. Confronted with hundreds of pieces of historic sheet music from a relative, the inheritor is often overwhelmed. But I'm not. Michael Feinstein is most certainly not. We wade through these things because "lost" and "lost but not forgotten" are basically the same, in our narrow view. As Nicholson Baker has written, preservation of originals is something to be done for its own sake, even after all the proper digitizing has been duly accomplished.

Disk Two has two hours of archival clips showing some of the wartime uses of music for propaganda, such as Army sing-a-long films (long before Mitch Miller). The care taken in song delivery and offering the singer as a surrogate for the girl back home is striking. It is easy to imagine Frank Capra directing these. Other gorgeous live clips include Frank Sinatra in the 1940s, 50s, and 60s (Feinstein has a show called The Sinatra Project), and examples from Bing Crosby, Paul Whiteman, Rosemary Clooney, Alice Faye and many more.

The clips of Michael Feinstein's show are also very good, showing a performer in complete command of his material. Interestingly, his approach to romance, though fully drawn, lacks a female counterpart. He is only shown singing either alone or with other guys. I miss the guy-girl thing from network television in the 1950s and 60s. Those made-for-TV duos were strange bedfellows often as not, but the song seemed more "acted" sometimes.

Not much of a quibble for 5 hours of viewing, which I found myself watching with a permanent smile. It was sent along via a dear friend and patron of our store, who ordered me a copy of this great program directly from the producer, shopPBS.org. I have a link above if you want to buy it from amazon. Stash it with your other great 21st century collections of 20th century standards-- by Sting, Rod Stewart, Diana Krall, John Pizzarelli-- and everyone else in the gang that sang Heart of My Heart.

2010 at moneyblows books & music

This product has become our most popular CD in 2010. We began the year selling a few of them but as the band toured, "Dynamic Sound" became a must-have for fans of Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings. Our holdings have been expanded to include some great records coveted by audiophiles: the Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab (MFSL) reissues and jazz' famed Mosaic Box Sets. We stopped selling books from the back of Harlan Wolfe's Record Shop in Conway, ending our first experiment in "bricks and mortar" sales. We've absorbed quite a few book and record collections this year, resulting in as much as 1/3 turnover of our entire stock. By any measure (month vs. month, year over year) 2010 has been a record year at moneyblows books & music. It's exciting that the new electronic book readers are steering millions of eyeballs to the joys of reading words on a page. When you think of how many people regard a "page" as starting with the word "home" or "web"--- or is something you find in a magazine or school text--- quite a few will be surprised that pages come in paper books, too. And, most books are easily obtained for a penny (ours are more expensive) so we expect 2011 to continue the trend of increased book sales. Similar to most small businesses, we are always looking for ways to advertise efficiently. In 2010 we advertised modestly using Google ads and Facebook ads. Nearly as we can tell, no customers came from the ads. As usual, customers find us either because they already know where to go, or they are intrepid enough to wade the morass of the Web to find us. Our message of "search moneyblows" still hasn't taken hold. It's a simple message--- type moneyblows into any search engine. It'll be easier than ever to shop with us in the coming year. Which starts tomorrow. So for now I'll sign off with the time honored greeting, "Happy Old Year."

Mosaic box sets-- great gifts for jazz vinyl lovers!

The Complete Pacific Jazz Live recordings of The Chet Baker Quartet with Russ Freeman
The Complete Blue Note and Pacific Jazz Recordings of Clifford Brown
The Complete Blue Note Recordings of The Tina Brooks Quintets
The Complete Blue Note recordings of Herbie Nichols
The Complete Blue Note Recordings of Thelonious Monk
The Complete Verve Recordings of the Buddy De Franco Quartet/quint…

Serving dog and mammon

I link to the current Ben Ratliff review of a Coleman Hawkins performance which, apparently, sheds new light on the classic "Body and Soul" that's one of Hawk's best known solos. You can look around and see the latest jazz news about William Savory's collection of disc transcriptions. Had they been released in his lifetime, or close to the time of recording (late 1930s and onward) they would be called "bootlegs" like famous recordings by Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, etc.--- recorded performances by fans.
The big news is that the Savory survivors have sold the discs to the National Jazz Museum in Harlem. Even bigger is the news that they'll probably digitize and release them commercially, after giving lip service to the various ownership conundrums. The reportage on this topic, at least in the New York Times, includes some strangely annotated excerpts on their website, and a boatload of reader comments predictably bemoaning the belated and perhaps restricted access to this material.
Ben Ratliff, a real asset to the NYTimes for the jazz world, clarifies that "Nobody is yet in any position to assess when, how or what portion of the recordings can be commercially released." Since the National Jazz Museum owns the discs, which can be easily digitized, the Times is echoing Gene Kelly "Gotta Dance!" This newspaper which clearly supports "work for hire" transparently got Ratliff to write a legal disclaimer into his review. The first article, reporting the acquisition, suggests that ownership of the aircheck music on the discs is unclear. It's worth reading the comments to both articles because the ephemera aspect of a jazz solo is well displayed. And so is another chapter in the evolution of copyright practice, using old jazz as a foil.

Mitch Miller, oboe player, music exec, host of "Sing Along With Mitch"

Heard of Mitch Miller's passing. Junkers, scouts and collectors know he lives on. His cartoonish visage, on the cover of "Sing Along With Mitch" albums, haunts every thrift store in America where vinyl records can be found. Astute collectors can even find the oboe concerti he recorded with great orchestras. Jazz fans can hear him on the Charlie Parker with strings recordings. Just put a name together with Mitch Miller and there is a story. Mitch Miller/Frank Sinatra. Mitch Miller/Rosemary Clooney. Mitch Miller/Clive Davis. Mitch Miller/Goddard Lieberson. Mitch Miller/Guy Mitchell. Mitch Miller/Columbia Records.
In our store at moneyblows.com, his legacy abounds in many wonderful Columbia Records. Mitch Miller made a huge impression, as artist and repertoire chief at Columbia (later, CBS Records) for most of the 1950s til the mid 1960s. Significantly, his employer invented the long playing record. For 3 years, he had a television show version of "Sing Along With Mitch."
He had a career any oboe player might envy. As I listen to his many contributions to popular music, whether it's the keening banjos behind the male choruses of "Sing Along" or the rocking celeste on Rosemary Clooney's hit, "C'mon A My House," I can imagine the sensitive ear of a double reed player in the agonizing quest to make a difficult instrument into a voice-like utterance.
In what I suspect is a more indirect influence, many Columbia Records of Ray Conniff and Percy Faith explore the blends of instruments and wordless vocals which have come back into fashion among some of  today's big band composers.
In the big picture of things, Mitch Miller demonstrated how popular music was created in the corporate environment. It's illustrated in this story from another corporate musical creature at Columbia, Teo Macero. Teo reported to Mitch Miller while creating jazz classics such as "Take Five."
And, while it is quite difficult to gauge the role of artistry in a monolithic corporate environment, there's no mistaking excellence and quality where it appears.
As a baby boomer, born a month after Rosemary Clooney had her breakout hit with Mitch Miller, I had my formative years and ears under the spell of MOR, easy listening music, rife with smooth strings, sparkling tone colors, beautiful voices, songwriting and composing which optimized the America which was an ethnic "melting pot.". By the time Mitch was cajoling everyone to sing along, I like others in my generation were chomping at the bit. Top 40 radio was playing something else. Top 40 radio was advertising freedom from Mitch Miller, who hated rock 'n roll. We may have been rescued by Pat Boone and Marty Robbins, but at least it wasn't our parents' music.

Sentimental and melodic journey to New Britain

I was sitting at my laptop with the Finale music notation software open, composing the solo clarinet piece that was to become “Kaleenka Suite.”
Though I love composing songs, this was going to be an instrumental solo, so I started thinking about things from an instrumental standpoint. That led me to a nice group of three: melodic motion, repetition and arpeggio.

Motion was probably one of the first musical things explored as, in 4th grade, we learned how to finger middle C, D, and E with the left hand on B flat clarinet. Yup, they were each a step apart from each other.
I thought of a song from the same auditorium at Holmes School in New Britain Ct, where the clarinet was taught. At school music assemblies we sang “My Grandfather’s Clock.” I have a great Johnny Cash version on the original vinyl record and listened to it. Yes, it’s a nice melody with motion.

By 1962 or 1963, when this was going on, I was learning more music from radio and 45 rpm records than I was in school. But school was a good venue for me, I could get decent grades, etc., so I paid attention to the music there, too. White Coral Bells. Marching to Pretoria. One was a round. One was a processional. Cool stuff.
But out there in the big world, a melody got me that sticks today, “45 cents for a 3 course meal at McDonald’s.” A commercial to music! They were called “jingles” back then. What did this melody have? It was the one note samba of the commercial world, repeating the same note.
That’s probably why I still remember it today; probably why I don’t understand bebop too well but I love playing “rhythm sax.” I love the honkers who repeat notes for effect. Always have. Repetition, very nice in music when used creatively. Doesn’t hurt a commercial message. Without it there’d be no rap or hip-hop.

Arpeggio, the mainstay of the student clarinet experience. The instrument is engineered for speed but can only play one note at a time (classically speaking), so, on clarinet, chords are outlined in arpeggios. Suddenly I’m mentally in the same auditorium where we learned clarinet, again. This time, the music teacher is teaching us to sing, “Hot tamales, sure are tasty, always made from finest pastry, so delicious and nutritious, you will like them, so buy some now.” It’s been more than forty years and that melody has come to mind frequently. Have never met anyone who knew it if I sang it. Doggone thing is sure memorable, why? The melody is arpeggios.

Facebook, enter stage left. I got my laptop open to the notation program. There’s a browser open too. I’m gonna find the teacher that taught that melody and ask if she remembers where the heck it came from. My memory is so vague, but I think folk music was on the scene at the time, on the radio, along with Motown, rockabilly, Memphis and New York soul, garage bands, etc. They even brought guitars with folk music into the Catholic church, Kumbaya, etc.

Had her name been Mrs. Jones the whole idea would have faded fast. But there was Ms. Nkonoki, right there on Facebook and basically looking the same as I remember her. I messaged her, asking first if she was the strict music teacher at Holmes School in 1963, and then, did she know where that song came from?

Yes she was; she said I remembered accurately that she was strict. She remembered the “Hot Tamales” thing was a countermelody in a song called Tamale Joe. Couldn’t remember much else about it. I went on Google and found the author’s name for Tamale Joe and also that it was a pseudonym. A reference to a possible recording by Peter, Paul and Mary. That was it. No simple internet trace of a melody that sticks in your head, perhaps only because of an arpeggio.
Well, it also had syncopation. We had heard of rhythm outside of school, on the radio and records, but this may have been the first rhythm tune taught in my elementary school memory. I would have to check with Ms. Nkonoki’s predecessor to confirm that. Both of them went to the same Teacher’s College in Danbury, Ct., the only one in the state that specialized in turning out music teachers.
Whether it made any difference that Ms. Nkonoki was the first black teacher; well, it did at the time, but I don’t know that it does now. What makes a difference now is the persistence of a simple melody. If anyone is ever composing, a simple melody will be your best friend. I also like Three Blind Mice a lot.

Ms. Nkonoki is now on the education committee of the New Britain Symphony Orchestra, and when she found out I had gone on with my music education to the master’s degree level anyway, she wondered if I might like to help judge a scholarship competition, which the New Britain Symphony Orchestra has long used to encourage talented music students in New Britain and the surrounding area.

I went down from New Hampshire to New Britain, early on the day of the scholarship judging, to check out the Young People’s Concert of the New Britain Symphony Orchestra, on its home turf at Welte Hall in the old New Britain Teacher’s College, which is now the Central Connecticut State University, New Britain’s crown jewel of education.

Ms. Nkonoki was the emcee. She had a video camera and before I knew it I was helping set up the camera. I remember thinking how strange that was, because I ran the projectors and film strip machines at Holmes School in 1962-63 and here I was in the same role, year 2010, albeit down the street at the old Teacher’s College. She was busy trying to bring order to the crowded auditorium. What a way to start a Wednesday in New Britain Connecticut, to hear the city’s namesake orchestra play to a packed auditorium of fifth graders from all over! In the late 1980s I was author of a popular book teaching children about the instruments of the orchestra, “Big Ears and His Trip To Orchestra Hall.” And, I have had a children’s group perform my songs. Felt right at home.

Most amazing of all, today’s 5th graders know an anthem that first appeared around 1977, The Star Wars theme. Talk about music transcending time. It was the fitting climax to a program that began with Aaron Copland’s Fanfare for the Common Man.

So much had changed in my old home town, but the arts seem to survive in events such as this, a labor of love to make sure today’s students get to associate the name of their own home town, with an orchestra that plays with excellence. And with music they might remember for who knows what reason, like I remembered the countermelody to Tamale Joe.

Over at the scholarship competition later, we heard a saxophonist and two vocalists, performing some challenging repertoire in the nave of the magnificent South Church in downtown New Britain. Right out of the gate the performances were excellent. The judges had to consult after scoring individually to arrive at a decision. We were told nothing of the students, but when we agreed on the winner, we later found out the winner had some music prep education over and above regular school. She also had an artist level instrument.

Getting to know the other judges was fun. One of them rehearses his band at a local McDonald’s on Wednesday nights, if I wanted to come down, he said.

McDonald’s? My thought exactly. A band rehearsing at McDonald’s? Well, Sam Kimble was rehearsing and then some, that night, at the same restaurant mentioned in that influential melody, “45 cents for a 3 course meal at McDonald’s.” His band included folks from my home neighborhood, up near the top of Stanley Street, when Country Club Rd. was northmost. The whole neighborhood was cut out of woods and it was magical to us, and Holmes School meant we wouldn’t have to cross Farmington Avenue to go to Slater Road School.

Sam and his band let me sit in on clarinet, my first music played in New Britain since 1966. Bandleader Sam Kimble lays down a groove like nobody else, reminding me of my favorite past music experiences in Texas where I spent most of my adult life.

So maybe this is an exercise you can try at home. Think back on a simple melody you first heard in elementary school and figure out where you learned it. Or even make a “pilgrimage” like I sort of did.

Will you spend a day starting with a symphony orchestra concert and ending with a jam session at McDonald’s, all in the same town? I can’t guarantee that unless your town is New Britain.

Michael and Nung music video

In my blog entries for April 2010 (this and the several preceding ones) I have documented the preparation, composition, practice, performance and documentation of an original work for solo clarinet, "Kaleenka Suite." The final document for Kaleenka Suite is the music video presented here. Michael composed and played the music, Nung-Hsin Hu composed and performed the camera.

From "There Was A Forest" to eternity

In the previous blog I posted a selection of stills and sounds from the actual gallery reception on April 10. I played Kaleenka Suite about 3 times, beginning, middle and end of reception. The beginning take (which will be featured in a future video) had the least crowd noise. It were those eerie early moments at an art reception where in your belly you feel no one will come. Some accident of fate has happened and no one who said they would come, will actually be here. So I played. And of course people came, plenty of them.
By the third take, nearing 9 p.m., a group of 4-5 people were esconced firmly between my bass clarinet on its stand, and Loli's wall of color photos.
Like most people I dig the soundtrack to the silent movie "Metropolis" which offsets the visual.
In the third take of Kaleenka Suite, which was used on the sound collage posted yesterday, this group of people is adding their instrument. So at the end of the collage there is black over sound. Listen carefully to the conversation after the closing credits.
It's Thursday now and I-Park Open Studios is Sunday. I'll be playing my new piece "Reeverse #1" consisting of: the Saturday recording backwards through my laptop, reading a monolog or improvising, and adding some effects from my "pedal array"-- an instrumentarium including 2 tin cans, plastic pipe, glass block, and, the bass clarinet,B flat and A clarinet. I'm updating this on Friday, I wrote the monolog this a.m.

Music in a photography exhibit

I was very excited to be working with Loli Kantor, whose work and method is featured in the Mar-Apr 2010 edition of LensWork. Although she just came to visit me yesterday at I-Park, we are familiar with each other's work. I knew of her theater documentation, and she knew of my jazz playing. As pointed out in the LensWork interview, Loli has been working for several years with subjects in Eastern Europe, many of whom have become her friends; and with palladium and platinum/palladium contact printing at her darkroom in Texas. In the last several years, she has exhibited in China, Ukraine ,Poland, Czech Republic and the U.S., and she opens Saturday, April 10th at the Dutch Kills Gallery in New York.

It had been several years since we saw each other, but Loli and I were able to rendezvous at the I-Park artist enclave in East Haddam, CT, where I have been working on solo clarinet repertoire. I have played solo clarinet in the Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth and have played with jazz trios at many museum and gallery exhibitions. Loli and I have set out to achieve some context in which the clarinet music will enhance the opening at Dutch Kills.

Oftentimes a gallery opening will have the character of a social event, and this one will be no different. But her powerful images seem to call for something bespoke. I have spent some time with an old collection of early 20th century piano songsheets, interested in extracting melodic material from them. Loli and I discussed this, and what came through, paraphrasing very generally, was that her photography would trigger the emotions, and any melodic material might enhance them. But there was no need for a "soundtrack" because the ebb and flow of daily life in Loli Kantor's work is a visual music in itself. I was seduced by this very thing as I looked through her catalog/book There Was A Forest: Jewish Life in Eastern Europe Today 2005-2008. She showed me the parts of her work featuring Alfred Schreyer, which brought to mind the klezmer sounds I fell in love with more than 20 years ago when I first learned "Gay Life in Dikanka" to play in "R. Crumb Comix" (with R. Crumb himself!) at the Hip Pocket Theatre.

We were searching for a common musical language which we knew was there. Working with a potpourri of folk melodies, I have come up with Kaleenka Suite for solo clarinet, to play at her show. The clarinet is an instrument engineered for orchestral composers, so it is the furthest thing from a folk instrument. But just as early New Orleans ragtime unlocks the key for the clarinet's role in jazz (wearing its "band instrument" hat), klezmer music unlocks the clarinet for folk music (wearing its "recorder" hat). In honor of that, I wanted my piece to begin with the A clarinet and a key signature of no sharps and flats, to make this instrument act like a folk instrument; thus the opening measures of the Kaleenka Suite are in service to the length of the tube. Many klezmers use C and D clarinets also for these reasons but I do not have those! Then, I change to B flat clarinet, a traditional orchestral instrument, back to A, and finally to bass clarinet in B flat. Going from high to low traces a breadth of range similar to Loli's in There Was A Forest. From happy to sad, from decline to revival, from celebration to work, from past to present-- the ebb and flow of daily life.

Easter walk to the cemetery, preaching to the choir

Invisible Idiot

This hole you see has been a distraction for me. I discovered it less than 24 hours ago. It was dug about two years ago by a performance artist, in the woods near Devils Hopyard State Park, East Haddam, CT. A group of students was touring the environmental installations here, when we "stumbled" upon it. The photos show part of an installation that was called "Two Rivers Roar." Below the picture of the hole, is a photo  taken about 17 feet away, where one of the PVC pipes originates. The other one also originates about 17 feet away. From what I have been told, there is a geological fault line in the area, a characteristic of the glacial moraine which gives the topography its salient characteristics. An old friend, on whose property I am a guest for a few weeks, sent me a youtube link a couple weeks ago. It had Marco Mazzini playing contrabass clarinet. I only have a bass clarinet. So when I saw the pipes leading to this hole, I wondered, could I get a bass clarinet, or soprano clarinet, sound to go through the pipes and come out the hole? A devil's errand,to be sure.

Needless to say, this is not what I had planned for my visit here. I had planned to finish a play I had begun some years ago. Since I am so easily distracted, I brought my clarinets along to work on some solos as well. Sounds like a plan to fail but I am no Jaromir Hladik. You can read elsewhere about his success.

Back to the hole. With a hole like this, some PVC pipe, and some clarinets, the first thing that would come to anyone's mind (of course!) is, can they be joined up? Can a big sound be made? My first thought led me to the decaying waterworks of urban America. In one of my hometowns, there exist no surveys or schematics of the iron or clay sewers built as recently as the 1940s. Good thing we have video cameras, huh? I may need one. But, the first thing I have done is write to the performance artist who put these pipes in. I hope to hear back from her. I just want to know if the pipes are continuous and how they are angled. If they have holes, or open sections, it would be like putting sound into the dirt, right? Totally futile.

I don't even know if the breath from one set of lungs (or two sets in the case of a duet) can sustain a sound the 17 foot length of these pipes. But, it should would help if the PVC pipe is clear and tight. I should ask my friend if he has a sewer type video camera lying around.

On the receiving end, this wonderful hole, I would like for the hole to broadcast the sound in whatever form it comes out of the pipes. I guess the hole would need to act like a speaker, but I prefer the term "sound chimney." Anybody know how to build a sound chimney? Of course all chimneys should be "sound." But I am talking about human exhaust gas, co2, breathed through these various lengths of cylindrical bore, and vented in such a way that the music could be heard as far away as possible. Some philosophers say that music predated language. I open up this discussion: what could be put in the hole? Should the end result be a composition, a performance, or an installation? I await counsel.

Adelaide Crapsey

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Where the note ends

The last time I took clarinet lessons was in 1988, and it was with two good college professors who knew their stuff. More than 20 years later, I'm having the opportunity to study with a master musician, one of whose many talents is representing the sound of the clarinet to millions of television viewers. After hearing him on records since the 1970s, it was my first chance to see this guy (I haven't asked his permission to write about him so you'll have to guess) last month, where he was in the guitar player's group. I knew I was going to see a master sideman at work, but I had no idea how profound. He led the band without leading it and has an incredible musical partnership with the guitar player. Even better were his telegraphing of dynamics, harmonic cues and resonance. I can't begin to tell you what it is like to have a lesson with a master musician. Well, many people can tell a similar story I'm sure.
It's making me thing of resonance, which seems to have something to do with the origin of the sound, something you can have control over and even increase resonance.  On clarinet, it's a great thing to imagine. But strictly speaking, resonance, is how the note is ended. "Prolongation of sound by reflection or vibration of other bodies."
Nothing does this like a violin or drum, or a harp. The thing itself is vibrating, and some of those vibrations are going to be caught by the audience's eardrums. Resonance is going to happen.

 Listening to my clarinet teacher's sound on a couple of his latest CDs, there is a way to make the clarinet resonate, and he is doing it. I am hoping some of this great articulation is transferable!


I'm thinking about practicing diminuendo on clarinet. And how to make sure the note ends with resonance.