It's not just about the art, it's also about the improvement in the scenery.
Every day I cross Broad and Belvidere and, no question, the southwest corner is underwhelming.
Surface parking lot, architecturally unimpressive apartment building, shabby Chinese take-out.
Translation: I am completely stoked for VCU's Institute for Contemporary Art to take over that corner.
And while anyone with any interest at all has already seen the rendering of what it will look like, tonight I got a more in-depth peek at what's to come.
Opening at the Virginia Center for Architecture was "Steven Holl Architects: Forking Time."
For the uninitiated, Holl is the creative force behind the design of the ICA.
On display were a row of watercolor sketches of the new 38,000 square foot building and a series of study models of it, all explorations of the architect's design journey.
It's an enlightening exhibit for the insight it gives into the creative process over time.
Words are scribbled on the sketches, showing the thought process as things were worked out.
I learned that there will a double front to the ICA, one on the B & B corner and one from the sculpture garden.
Guess which one this visitor intends to use.
You got it; I'll be making my entrance through the garden and (wait for it) "thinking field."
How wonderful is that?
Sure, there are other stand-out features: a reflecting pond of recycled water, a cafe, a 243-seat performance space and four "forking" galleries, each with a different feel and focus for the ever-changing exhibitions of the new.
Simply put, the ICA will capture the energy of contemporary art.
And, as arts dean Joe Seipel said at the opening tonight, "It'll be an incubator for new art."
Almost as importantly, this Jackson Ward resident will get to walk by it every single day on her daily constitutional.
I can hardly wait for 2015.
Once I finished dreaming about the future, I went off to the National for some dream pop, courtesy of Baltimore's Beach House.
And if you don't know what I mean by that, consider this exchange between two Facebook friends.
Him: If anyone needs two Beach House tickets for tonight, let me know.
Her: Don't tempt me. I need sleeeep.
Him: Beach House is LIKE sleep.
Humor aside, I prefer to think of them as melancholy songs with woozy keyboards and insistent drumming, a sound of which I'm very fond.
I'd seen them as openers back in 2007 and must have liked what I heard because I can't even remember the headliner.
Then I'd had a ticket to see them back in May in Charlottesville and hadn't gone, so I was owed a night of Beach House.
Tonight I collected.
The most surprising part of the evening was only seeing two people I knew (one of whom hadn't been to the National since I took him to see Dashboard Confessional back in December 2010!) and both only near the end.
The opener was Dustin Wong, a guy with a guitar and lots of pedals.
"This is my first show playing with Beach House," he said. "It's a real honor to be here."
His endless looping of various guitar sounds brought to mind my friend Dave Watkins, who plays dulcitar and loops in a similar fashion.
Coincidentally, Dave was playing a show tonight, too and while Dustin was good, he's no Dave Watkins, if you know what I mean.
And if you've ever seen Dave create layers of sound, you do know.
I watched the crowd slowly won over by Dustin as they became intrigued by so much sound coming from one guy.
A long break followed but I held my ground in front of the sound booth for the main event.
When Beach House arrived onstage, it was with little talking.
As a trio, they were lined up at the front of the stage.
It was great to have the drummer especially so close to the crowd since that's usually the musician relegated to the back.
The band did a lot of alternating of their most recent album "Bloom" and their defining previous album "Teen Dream."
The crowd greeted the second song "Norway" with a roar.
Singer Victoria's voice sounded even more languid than it had on the original.
Just a few songs in and two things were apparent: there wasn't going to be any direct light on the band and there wasn't going to be much between-song chatter.
Everyone in the room seemed willing to accept both.
Victoria was playing her keyboards in the center of the stage and often bending forward to do so, leaving her long hair to trail the keys.
In a burst of unexpected connection, she asked, "How is everyone doing? This is our first time in Richmond. And that's the end of my story."
No attention hog, that one.
She had unusually expressive hand gestures; if one or both hands weren't involved playing, she was making dramatic gestures with them as she sang.
Stevie Nicks would have been proud.
Their last song, "Take Care," had every couple in the room in full-on sway and/or kissing mode.
Stand beside it, we can't hide the way it makes us glow
It's no good unless it grows
Feel this burning love of mine
Once they left the stage, the crowd clapped insistently for a longer than usual time until they returned.
"10 Mile Stereo" put everyone over the edge with its galloping intensity and hopeful lyrics.
The heart is a stone
And this is a stone that we throw
Put your hand on this stone
It's the stone of a home you'll know
They say we will go far
But they don't know how far we'll go
"Thank you for everything," the succinct Victoria said afterwards.
For their last song, the lights finally focused onstage so we could see Victoria and her band mates end our evening together.
It was only while playing her keyboard ferociously then that Victoria dropped her head and began twirling that long mane of hair in a big circle.
Mad audience reaction and then, boom, it was over.
Hard to believe anyone thinks that's like sleep.
Showing posts with label beach house. Show all posts
Showing posts with label beach house. Show all posts
Friday, September 14, 2012
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Summer Breeze
A pictures's worth a thousand words.
Hanging in one of the bedrooms of this little white house on the ocean that I have been renting for eighteen years now, is an enlargement of a black and white photograph.
In the old (pre-Photoshop days) picture, an enormous wave, hurricane like in its size and menacing swell, curls over a few tiny oceanfront houses scattered along the mostly undeveloped shoreline of Kitty Hawk.
A closer look reveals that the small house near the center of the photo is the one I am standing in.
The one I come back to every year for a week or two, depending on my pocketbook.
The house in the picture looks exactly the same as it does today; only the proximity of the other houses has changed.
Where there was once long stretches between houses, now they are filled with other cottages, some rustic and many newer.
When I first began renting this particular house, it had no telephone, which I loved.
Until last summer, it had no air conditioning. Now it has three window units which I resent mightily.
The house sits close to the ocean, more so now even than before Hurricane Isabel in 2003.
With every window open during the time I am here, it's like being surrounded by the sun, wind and water.
All three come through every door and window from sunrise to sunset, ensuring that we never have to wonder what the weather is.
Today the water reached a week-long high of seventy five degrees, so warm it is like bath water.
Not once but twice today, a school of dolphins swam so close by that some people floated on rafts further out than where they jumped.
After an extended happy hour on the screened porch overlooking the ocean, we took a group vote and decided to let someone else cook for our last night.
We played "follow the leader" the eighth of a mile to the Rundown Cafe, which is no longer rundown.
When I first started going there in the '90s, it was a beach shack with a limited menu for locals.
Once they built a rickety deck on the roof, it was the perfect place for a few drinks once the sun went down.
And if the deck shifted a bit as we lingered on the roof, we chalked it up to the cocktails.
It's since been renovated (twice, I think) and is a bloated shadow of its former self, although the vintage surfboards and other beach ephemera haven't changed.
So we sat on the deck facing the ocean and ate locally caught mahi, fried up into fish bites, served with a ginger habanero sauce and some fabulous pickled cabbage.
I sipped tequila as we ate pound after pound of locally caught shrimp and the sun finally sank behind the sound.
Walking back toward the house, many of the houses were lit up from within, providing a voyeuristic thrill for the nosy among us.
Me, I couldn't have cared less what was going on anywhere else on the beach.
Let's just say that vacation has been very, very good to me.
But I will miss the constant sound of the surf. It unwinds me like nothing else can.
After nearly a week at the seaside, I am as relaxed as I could hope to be.
Someone even told me today that it showed on my face.
Maybe I should take a picture.
Hanging in one of the bedrooms of this little white house on the ocean that I have been renting for eighteen years now, is an enlargement of a black and white photograph.
In the old (pre-Photoshop days) picture, an enormous wave, hurricane like in its size and menacing swell, curls over a few tiny oceanfront houses scattered along the mostly undeveloped shoreline of Kitty Hawk.
A closer look reveals that the small house near the center of the photo is the one I am standing in.
The one I come back to every year for a week or two, depending on my pocketbook.
The house in the picture looks exactly the same as it does today; only the proximity of the other houses has changed.
Where there was once long stretches between houses, now they are filled with other cottages, some rustic and many newer.
When I first began renting this particular house, it had no telephone, which I loved.
Until last summer, it had no air conditioning. Now it has three window units which I resent mightily.
The house sits close to the ocean, more so now even than before Hurricane Isabel in 2003.
With every window open during the time I am here, it's like being surrounded by the sun, wind and water.
All three come through every door and window from sunrise to sunset, ensuring that we never have to wonder what the weather is.
Today the water reached a week-long high of seventy five degrees, so warm it is like bath water.
Not once but twice today, a school of dolphins swam so close by that some people floated on rafts further out than where they jumped.
After an extended happy hour on the screened porch overlooking the ocean, we took a group vote and decided to let someone else cook for our last night.
We played "follow the leader" the eighth of a mile to the Rundown Cafe, which is no longer rundown.
When I first started going there in the '90s, it was a beach shack with a limited menu for locals.
Once they built a rickety deck on the roof, it was the perfect place for a few drinks once the sun went down.
And if the deck shifted a bit as we lingered on the roof, we chalked it up to the cocktails.
It's since been renovated (twice, I think) and is a bloated shadow of its former self, although the vintage surfboards and other beach ephemera haven't changed.
So we sat on the deck facing the ocean and ate locally caught mahi, fried up into fish bites, served with a ginger habanero sauce and some fabulous pickled cabbage.
I sipped tequila as we ate pound after pound of locally caught shrimp and the sun finally sank behind the sound.
Walking back toward the house, many of the houses were lit up from within, providing a voyeuristic thrill for the nosy among us.
Me, I couldn't have cared less what was going on anywhere else on the beach.
Let's just say that vacation has been very, very good to me.
But I will miss the constant sound of the surf. It unwinds me like nothing else can.
After nearly a week at the seaside, I am as relaxed as I could hope to be.
Someone even told me today that it showed on my face.
Maybe I should take a picture.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Nine of Note: My Best of 2010
It would be silly for me to say that 2010 was a great year for music because I think every year is a great one.
Discovering new music, whether by familiar bands or fresh faces, is one of my great pleasures in life (undoubtedly that says something about the state of my personal/sex life). Every CD has the potential to be one that I rave about when people ask me for recommendations; some just grab me harder than others.
So here's my Top Nine list for the year. Around mid-summer I always start my master list of what's impressed me so far to ensure that I don't lose sight of any of the early-in-the-year stuff that wowed me, and just add on to it until the New Year rolls around. Then Andrew starts nagging me and I post my list.
For 2010, it looks like this:
1.The National: High Violet
I start my list with the band that has been my obsession since I first saw them in May 2007 at DAR. Between Matt Berninger's incredibly sexy baritone and his mature, thinking-man's lyrics, I can't imagine ever tiring of these guys and their evolving sound. Horns, violin and a lead singer who swigs from a bottle of wine onstage! I never have less than three of their CDs in my car at any given time, just in case of emergency. Favorite track: "Lemon World"
2. Beach House: Teen Dream
A big, dusky 60s-sounding voice, endless piano and an overall sense of sadness I could relate to kept this CD in high rotation since I first bought it. I saw these guys as an opener before "Teen Dream" was released, so I was blown away by how much more developed this album is than their previous stuff. When I meet someone new and we start talking music and they mention Beach House, I know we will have much to talk about and share in the future. Favorite track: "Lover of Mine"
3. Kings Go Forth: The Outsiders are Back
When I saw these guys at Balliceaux last spring, here, it was one of the most amazing musical experiences I've ever had and I've seen hundreds of shows. KGF kicked off their tour for the new CD in Richmond, yes Richmond, and for one night, their soul/funk/r & b jams were like a 2010 version of vintage soul in our own backyard. The album is the same, showing off their awesome horn section, three vocalists (black, white and Hispanic) and two drummers. It's good to know that the current generation is as capable of making butts shake as their forefathers. Favorite track: "High on Your Love"
4. Yeasayer: Odd Blood
This one came into my life last summer when there was a lot of competition for my listening time. The blend of experimental, arty and, yes, poppy indie rock wormed its way into my ears with all kinds of sounds I couldn't identify, but loved. I don't have to get you to love you, I just have to want more and this album was played at top volume on every road trip to the beach. Embrace the pop, admire the artiness. Favorite track: "I Remember"
5. Love Language: Libraries
I missed these guys opening up for Camera Obscura (due to a painful run-in) so I made a point to go to Charlottesville to catch them a few months later. To my mind, they have a layered and shimmery 60s sound, simple and pure and absolutely ear-pleasing. This is music from a guy who got his heart seriously broken and managed to make gorgeous music out of it. Favorite track: "Heart to Tell"
6. Fitz and the Tantrums: "Pickin' Up the Pieces"
White boy listens to way too much Motown and Stax, buys an old church organ, finds horn players and recruits black girl singer. I like that while the sound and arrangements are old-school, the lyrics are pure 21st-century. I've heard these guys are great live, but have yet to experience them. Favorite track: "Moneygrabber"
7. Violens: Amoral
I discovered these guys when they opened for MGMT at the National in 2008. I went up to their merch table after the show and told them I liked them better than MGMT and bought their EP. They threw in a t-shirt as a reward, I think, for my evident fandom. Ever since, I've been waiting for a full-length and this year I finally got it. Their psych-pop has a definite 60s sound to it, and often I hear a similarity to the Perniece Brothers, which is a good thing. Favorite track: "Violent Sensation Descends"
8. Good Old War: Good Old War
Because of years appreciating RVA's excellent folk scene, I have come to appreciate when unexpectedly good folk arrives from other places. Such was the case at the Dashboard Confessional show when Philly folksters GOW preceded the emo. Their sound is spare, yet full of feeling, with some of the most beautiful harmonies imaginable. Start to finish, you can just hear that these guys will make it big. Favorite track: "My Own Sinking Ship"
9. Best Coast: Crazy for You
I came to this one late, but it had my name all over it. Girl vocals, fuzzy surf guitars, lo-fi sound and purely girl emotions about unrequited love, heartbreak and patience. This CD perfectly exemplifies what I love about new music; you never know what influences a young musician is going to pull from. Favorite track: "Boyfriend"
Once again, I feel certain that my list will match no other on earth. But nothing would give me greater pleasure than discussing it with other ardent music lovers.
Any takers?
Discovering new music, whether by familiar bands or fresh faces, is one of my great pleasures in life (undoubtedly that says something about the state of my personal/sex life). Every CD has the potential to be one that I rave about when people ask me for recommendations; some just grab me harder than others.
So here's my Top Nine list for the year. Around mid-summer I always start my master list of what's impressed me so far to ensure that I don't lose sight of any of the early-in-the-year stuff that wowed me, and just add on to it until the New Year rolls around. Then Andrew starts nagging me and I post my list.
For 2010, it looks like this:
1.The National: High Violet
I start my list with the band that has been my obsession since I first saw them in May 2007 at DAR. Between Matt Berninger's incredibly sexy baritone and his mature, thinking-man's lyrics, I can't imagine ever tiring of these guys and their evolving sound. Horns, violin and a lead singer who swigs from a bottle of wine onstage! I never have less than three of their CDs in my car at any given time, just in case of emergency. Favorite track: "Lemon World"
2. Beach House: Teen Dream
A big, dusky 60s-sounding voice, endless piano and an overall sense of sadness I could relate to kept this CD in high rotation since I first bought it. I saw these guys as an opener before "Teen Dream" was released, so I was blown away by how much more developed this album is than their previous stuff. When I meet someone new and we start talking music and they mention Beach House, I know we will have much to talk about and share in the future. Favorite track: "Lover of Mine"
3. Kings Go Forth: The Outsiders are Back
When I saw these guys at Balliceaux last spring, here, it was one of the most amazing musical experiences I've ever had and I've seen hundreds of shows. KGF kicked off their tour for the new CD in Richmond, yes Richmond, and for one night, their soul/funk/r & b jams were like a 2010 version of vintage soul in our own backyard. The album is the same, showing off their awesome horn section, three vocalists (black, white and Hispanic) and two drummers. It's good to know that the current generation is as capable of making butts shake as their forefathers. Favorite track: "High on Your Love"
4. Yeasayer: Odd Blood
This one came into my life last summer when there was a lot of competition for my listening time. The blend of experimental, arty and, yes, poppy indie rock wormed its way into my ears with all kinds of sounds I couldn't identify, but loved. I don't have to get you to love you, I just have to want more and this album was played at top volume on every road trip to the beach. Embrace the pop, admire the artiness. Favorite track: "I Remember"
5. Love Language: Libraries
I missed these guys opening up for Camera Obscura (due to a painful run-in) so I made a point to go to Charlottesville to catch them a few months later. To my mind, they have a layered and shimmery 60s sound, simple and pure and absolutely ear-pleasing. This is music from a guy who got his heart seriously broken and managed to make gorgeous music out of it. Favorite track: "Heart to Tell"
6. Fitz and the Tantrums: "Pickin' Up the Pieces"
White boy listens to way too much Motown and Stax, buys an old church organ, finds horn players and recruits black girl singer. I like that while the sound and arrangements are old-school, the lyrics are pure 21st-century. I've heard these guys are great live, but have yet to experience them. Favorite track: "Moneygrabber"
7. Violens: Amoral
I discovered these guys when they opened for MGMT at the National in 2008. I went up to their merch table after the show and told them I liked them better than MGMT and bought their EP. They threw in a t-shirt as a reward, I think, for my evident fandom. Ever since, I've been waiting for a full-length and this year I finally got it. Their psych-pop has a definite 60s sound to it, and often I hear a similarity to the Perniece Brothers, which is a good thing. Favorite track: "Violent Sensation Descends"
8. Good Old War: Good Old War
Because of years appreciating RVA's excellent folk scene, I have come to appreciate when unexpectedly good folk arrives from other places. Such was the case at the Dashboard Confessional show when Philly folksters GOW preceded the emo. Their sound is spare, yet full of feeling, with some of the most beautiful harmonies imaginable. Start to finish, you can just hear that these guys will make it big. Favorite track: "My Own Sinking Ship"
9. Best Coast: Crazy for You
I came to this one late, but it had my name all over it. Girl vocals, fuzzy surf guitars, lo-fi sound and purely girl emotions about unrequited love, heartbreak and patience. This CD perfectly exemplifies what I love about new music; you never know what influences a young musician is going to pull from. Favorite track: "Boyfriend"
Once again, I feel certain that my list will match no other on earth. But nothing would give me greater pleasure than discussing it with other ardent music lovers.
Any takers?
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Grizzly Bear at the Norva
After several sold out nights at the Austin City Limits Festival, Grizzly Bear played the Norva tonight, letting the audience know that it was their first show in Norfolk since they played the record store there almost three years ago. And what a show it was! How many bands can you name where all four members sing (thus allowing those beautiful Beach Boys-like harmonies)? Or where the bass player also plays the flute, clarinet and saxophone (looped and pitched down so low that you had to look to see what instrument he was playing)? It was all very cool.
The expected band t-shirts were represented: Modest Mouse, Dead Weather, the Shins. RVA was also represented; I talked to Zac Hyrciak (of ZR and the Jungle Beat) and a couple of girls standing in front of me, all who had driven down to see a show that we agreed should have played the National.
Openers Beach House, from Baltimore, had a good-sized crowd for their set, including some loud and fanatical fans of theirs just in front of me. They disappeared before Grizzly Bear took the stage, though. BH members Victoria and Alex played along with GB on a couple of songs, including the crowd-pleasing "Two Weeks;" her vocals and his keyboards augmented the song terrifically.
And speaking of "Two Weeks," when the song began, a guy suddenly appeared right next to me, singing along and taking non-stop pictures with his phone. I had secured a prime spot for myself: in front of a column where I couldn't be jostled (believe me, it's easy to get knocked into at a show when you're only 5'5"), off to the side, but near enough the front for an excellent view.
This guy leans over after the song ends to chat me up:
Him: What's your favorite song?
Me: I wouldn't want to pick just one.
Him: Oh, come on. Mine is "Two Weeks."
Me: Okay.
Another song starts and he begins to sway, his body hitting mine on every move. After a minute of this, he starts to slip his arm around my waist.
Me: (pushing his arm away) Stop that!
Him: Oh, sorry I'm sorry. Really, sorry.
Me: (scowl)
Him: How old are you?
Me: Older than you.
Him: I don't care.
Me: I want to hear the band, okay?
He stayed next to me for two more excruciating songs and every time he "accidentally" bumped into me, he apologized. I just refused to make eye contact and he finally gave up and left.
That nonsense aside, it was a really excellent show of beautiful voices and stellar musicianship. It was well worth the monotonous drive to Norfolk and back and that's saying something.
The expected band t-shirts were represented: Modest Mouse, Dead Weather, the Shins. RVA was also represented; I talked to Zac Hyrciak (of ZR and the Jungle Beat) and a couple of girls standing in front of me, all who had driven down to see a show that we agreed should have played the National.
Openers Beach House, from Baltimore, had a good-sized crowd for their set, including some loud and fanatical fans of theirs just in front of me. They disappeared before Grizzly Bear took the stage, though. BH members Victoria and Alex played along with GB on a couple of songs, including the crowd-pleasing "Two Weeks;" her vocals and his keyboards augmented the song terrifically.
And speaking of "Two Weeks," when the song began, a guy suddenly appeared right next to me, singing along and taking non-stop pictures with his phone. I had secured a prime spot for myself: in front of a column where I couldn't be jostled (believe me, it's easy to get knocked into at a show when you're only 5'5"), off to the side, but near enough the front for an excellent view.
This guy leans over after the song ends to chat me up:
Him: What's your favorite song?
Me: I wouldn't want to pick just one.
Him: Oh, come on. Mine is "Two Weeks."
Me: Okay.
Another song starts and he begins to sway, his body hitting mine on every move. After a minute of this, he starts to slip his arm around my waist.
Me: (pushing his arm away) Stop that!
Him: Oh, sorry I'm sorry. Really, sorry.
Me: (scowl)
Him: How old are you?
Me: Older than you.
Him: I don't care.
Me: I want to hear the band, okay?
He stayed next to me for two more excruciating songs and every time he "accidentally" bumped into me, he apologized. I just refused to make eye contact and he finally gave up and left.
That nonsense aside, it was a really excellent show of beautiful voices and stellar musicianship. It was well worth the monotonous drive to Norfolk and back and that's saying something.
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