Ides of March

Yes, I know there was a game going on.

Even the VMFA knew about the game, hence the welcome to the Black and Gold Maria Film/Video Fest.

All those other years I attended, it was just the Black Maria Film/Video Fest.

Clearly film types have a sense of humor.

But even with the addition of gold and the smaller-than-usual audience, it was still a stellar night of screen watching.

The animated film "Feral," five years in the making, was unbelievably gorgeous with a simple gray-scale and tonal palette that told the story of trying to tame a wild thing.

My takeaway was don't attempt it.

"Bug People" was all kinds of funny, with a woman sharing stir-fry and taco recipes using bugs and an exterminator extolling the pleasures of his job.

The only part I had a problem with was when a scientist put some kind of 8" worm-like-looking  millipede on the filmmaker's arm and explained that removing it would sound like Velcro.

Not what I want to hear when a bug is removed from a human.

Most evocative of what we saw tonight was "Time Exposure" about the filmmaker's father's photography hobby.

It used vintage photographs and voice-over to trace his passion for picture-taking.

Most hysterical was "Queen of the Night Aria" which had a mother doll singing in Italian, instructing her doll daughter to kill her husband for her.

The brilliance was that they lyrics were subtitled with lines like, "I am really pissed" and "I was a good stay-at-home mom."

Spending two hours watching film shorts is satisfying in that way that reading a good book of short stories is; you get your satisfaction quickly and if something doesn't thrill you, it's over soon.

Once the festival ended, I headed over to Strange Matter and barely got out of the car before I started running into people I knew.

One had just seen my car at the museum a half hour ago. One said, "Hey, Fig!" And one I was introduced to tonight said, "Come on, you're coming with us."

Do I know you?

Conveniently, one of them also asked  if I was going to the Camel for the show.

Doh. Only then did I realize I'd confused my venues tonight.

I still made it to the Camel in time to find friends and catch Way, Shape or Form, whom I'd discovered at Live at Ipanema where I'd become a fan of their pastiche of electronic, jazz and pop.

As a friend later noted, that's the kind of band that could play the Modlin Center and they'd love the sound.

When they finished, Snowy Owls began setting up but it took a while before they began playing.

As I learned later, they'd delayed because there had been a noise complaint to WRIR upstairs and it seemed prudent not to arouse the caller's ire again so quickly.

That and they were waiting for the cop to leave.

But then they began with the full-on fuzz that makes me their devoted fan and all was right with the world.

"We're playing songs off an EP we put out a while ago," leader Matt said,"Back to front if you're keeping score."

I wasn't, I was just glad to be hearing them play, watching Brandon bopping his head as he wailed on the drums while Allen faced him, working off what he saw more than what he could hear.

"The next song is about love and color theory," Matt said. "They go together so well."

Naturally, the artistic nerds in the crowd nodded in agreement.

They treated us to a brand new song, "Kerfluffle," to end their set and it was terrific to hear something I hadn't before.

Apparently the noise complainer had given up because Snowy Owls was followed in short order by Nick Coward and the Last Battle.

It was their CD release show and it seemed like there were a bazillion people on stage.

A friend told me there were eight so I stood on tiptoe to try to see what they all were playing, when I counted nine.

"Whatever it is, it's a full orchestra up there," he cracked.

Indeed. It was cello player Constance Sisk's last show with the band and they'd added two new members, including Troy from Way, Shape or Form.

Just another stellar example of the incestuous world of Richmond musicians and I mean that in the best possible way.

"Hi, we're Nick Coward and the Last Battle and this is "Thieves," Nick said, kicking off a set of new music.

Well, not all that new.

"This song is called "Rock" and it was on our first EP and our second EP and it's on the album," he said. "But we promise not to record it again."

You know, when a song is that good, it's easy to see how it kept getting put on whatever they were working on.

Judging by the crowd's reaction, I think we were all in agreement that the band's full sound, with sax, cello and keyboards adding heft to the guitars, bass and drums, is awfully compelling.

But just so I don't look like a complete music fanatic, let the record show that I did inquire about the score of the game before leaving.

Fortunately, the team was able to pull out another victory without me having to watch.

Now can I go back to my music? I mean, go team.

Postcard from Puerto Rico

Much as I enjoy attending, I can't begrudge the cessation of the Silent Music Revival.

You see, the organizers are going to Puerto Rico for a few months.

They have the loveliest habit of up and going away for months at a time to work and live in other countries before returning to Richmond.

So tonight's event was the last one for an indefinite amount of time.

To commemorate such an auspicious occasion, Jameson chose a perfect marriage of film and music.

A 1926 movie, "Now You Tell One" starring Charley Bowers played while Nick Coward and the Last Battle improvised a score.

NC & the LB did a superb job of matching their music with the story of a Liar's Club competition and the man off the street who's brought in to spin a tale.

No surprise, he wins the gold.

Afterwards, he swears his story is true, tells a man he loves his daughter (she turns out to be his wife) and is eventually chased by the broom-wielding husband right up until "Le Fin."

Good old twenties slapstick circa Buster Keaton, but by a far less well-known comedian.

I was happy to see that there was a good-sized crowd since no one wanted to miss their last chance for a while.

Being a seasoned veteran, I knew to get there early and grab front row seats while also allowing enough time to say fond farewells to the soon-to-be departed couple.

And while I hate to see them go, I can't help but envy people who are leaving below freezing temperatures for sunny climes.

For people who will be wearing shorts while I continue to layer and wear gloves.

For people who will write music based on where they are and the experiences they're having.

For people who always come back to this city energized and ready to make music and things happen.

Wait a minute....

Hell, if I had any sense, I'd be joining them.

Paying WRIR Forward

I went to the benefit music show at the Firehouse Theater tonight solely to support WRIR.

That's a lie. I went because WRIR DJ Shannon Cleary had curated a show of four of Richmond's finest bands, including one band's final performance. Contributing five bucks to my favorite indie radio station was just icing on the cake.

The show was late starting, as is unfortunately the norm here (the Listening Room and the Silent Music Revival being notable and appreciated exceptions), but I had good company in the form of the hatted man-about-town, two favorite couples, my usual seatmate when rating musicians on cuteness and Mr. Dulcitar. I even made a couple date.

Starting things off by kicking ass and taking names was Nick Coward and the Last Battle, a band that has grown by leaps and bounds over the past two years. With six talented members including brass and cello, this multi-instrumentalist sextet tore it up, especially with the material from their outstanding latest CD.

In the most wonderful kind of tribute to another local band, they covered Zac Hyrciak and the Junglebeat's "We are One" beautifully and unexpectedly.I was sorry to see them leave the stage.

Next up was Ophelia, aka Jonathan Vassar and David Schultz, tonight anyway. With their dark, melodic songs, Jonathan played guitar, harmonica and accordion while David played the guitar he'd been given as a high school graduation present (his former guitar having exploded recently).

He said he was really liking how the old guitar was sounding after being pulled out of disuse for so long. They pulled Josh Small onstage to play guitar and sing with them for the last two songs, placing Jonathan in the center standing position ("I'm in the awkward back-up singer position," he joked).

From sidekick to center stage, Josh Small played next, boisterously working his metal resonator guitar and stomping his foot. He covered Emmylou Harris and sang a song he'd written for his niece, "Patricia Noel."

Another interesting song he wrote, he said. was ripped off from a Maxwell song he admired ("shuffle beat and false ending"). He self-deprecatingly acknowledged the source material that inspired him in his songwriting again and again.

Tonight's finale was being billed as the Orioles' last show because Nick Woods (who is Orioles whether he plays alone or with four other people, like tonight) is moving to Nashville (at least he's not making the cliched move to Brooklyn, only to return).

Midway through their set, someone called out, "Don't move!" and he laughed. "Yea, that's what you and all the other people in Richmond who I owe money to say, but you can't fool me." He did say he may play a few solo shows before heading out.

Their set was a treat since I'd never heard him with a full band. Josh Hryciak (he of the amazing voice in Mermaid Skeletons) was playing drums, something I'd never seen before. He took the time to thank Nick Coward for covering his brother's song (and also reminded Nick Woods that it was almost Mother's Day, so to get on with the set).

Nick sang songs about being a flower delivery man, about canopies and, of course, failed relationships. When the show ended, the audience called for an encore as the band walked offstage. He came back but the band didn't.

"That's all the songs we know," he explained. "I do know one other short one." He then explained that the song was about his crazy great-grandfather who had a ghost dog who told him not to drink and a ghost lady who sat on a bench and talked to him.

"My family's crazy," he admitted. The great-grandfather had had six kids, his grandmother and six boys. One of the brothers killed another of the brothers he told us, and the room went silent. "That wasn't the reaction I was expecting," he said.

Likewise, the audience wasn't expecting one last stellar song, but we got it and rewarded it with thunderous applause. Richmond's loss is Nashville's gain.

Whereas with tonight's show, WRIR gained necesary finds and the audience gained four hours of some of RVA's best music.

I may have begun with a lie, but that's the truth...at least as I see it. To each her own reality.

Live at Ipanema

I hadn't been out to hear live music in over a week. Appalling, I know.

By choice, that's just not the way my world works.

So after a whirlwind weekend away, the Live at Ipanema show last night presented the ideal way to get my music fix and catch up with people.

True, I didn't intend to close the place down, but F.R.O. and I got started and just kept talking (except for during the show, of course).

Assorted people joined us for a while and then moved on, so we had plenty of fresh input throughout, always a good thing.

Nick Coward and the Last Battle were playing (and being recorded) and I love the fullness of their sound: strings, horns, guitar, drums, multiple voices.

The surprise was that they all were even able to fit into that tiny little space.

Last time I saw them, they took up most of Gallery 5's stage, a considerably larger area to put so many musicians.

Their set had been short then, so I didn't want to miss an opportunity to hear them again.

The place was quite full and not everybody shut up, but the music was really well-done and the performance will be posted on RVA News in a couple of weeks if you missed it or need to revisit it.

Luckily, I planned this week to be much heavier on live music than last.

And I purposely plan every week to be heavy on conversation, preferably with those who enjoy verbal discourse as much as I do.