Who doesn't enjoy seeing inside other people's houses?
Walking Monument Avenue today with another avid pedestrian discussing architecture - Ionic versus Corinthian columns, servants' porches, Italianate facades - I pointed out certain houses I had experience in.
For starters, there was the former Symphony Designer House I'd toured with a friend, and the one-time doctor's office I'd gone to for years and the recently-purchased and eccentrically-decorated manse of a woman who shares my name and the sprawling apartment with a butler's pantry and maid's room that a former boyfriend had lived in.
"So basically, you've been in half the houses on Monument Avenue," my companion ribbed as we walked.
It was a good launching point for tonight's adventure, a tour courtesy of Modern Richmond of a recently-constructed house on Leigh Street in Jackson Ward.
I know the couple who owns it - I've interviewed the one and the other and I have had rendezvous at any number of local eating establishments - so I'd heard construction details for the past couple of years, but this was a chance to see.
Rule #1: remove your shoes or sheathe them in disposable booties at the front porch. I had no problem padding barefoot throughout.
Because the house was built on such a narrow lot, it was too close to the property lines to allow windows on the sides, so the architects cleverly solved the natural light issue with a massive skylight bisecting the center of the house that goes down three floors to the kitchen.
A hearth of light and shadow, so to speak. I was equally impressed that there were opening windows on the front and back of the house.
The most striking features were the two glass bridges on the second and third floors, looking down into the kitchen. Nearly everybody had a moment of trepidation before crossing them - it's not often you walk on glass and look through to floors below - and some people were superstitious enough to wait until no one else was on them to cross.
As far as I was concerned, having on a dress while 100 people stood below me was far more of a concern, although the novelty of bare feet on glass more than made up for any modesty concerns.
Equally as impressive as the walkways was the couple's 300-piece art collection placed throughout and displayed beautifully. The simplicity of the house's design and the subtly gray walls (a color called "Big Chill") lent itself to be the framework for so much art.
As long as I'd been watching this house be built, it was gratifying to finally see the inside and backyard, even if it was as crowded as moving through the "Breakfast at Tiffany's" cocktail party.
After the Q & A period with the owners and architects, I meandered up Adams, where an apartment window was wide open and speakers facing out to the street were blaring Earth, Wind and Fire's "September." It was just the kind of gorgeous, warm evening where you'd want to hear something exactly like that.
My destination was Bistro 27 for some dessert. My backside had barely hit the stool when in walks an architecture critic I'd just recently seen at the opening of the Virginia Historical Society's new seating exhibition ("So have you written it up yet?") and I suddenly had company.
His panties were in a wad about how bad traffic on Broad Street has gotten at rush hour, but he also gave me a little neighborhood history while he was at it. By the time my chocolate torte was history, it was time for him to leave for his weekly date with friends to watch "Survivor," but not because he cares about the characters. Oh, no.
Seems this group of his used to play poker on Wednesday nights but they gave that up so the could watch "Survivor" instead...and bet on who gets voted off. I wished him good luck and left for Gallery 5.
It was a good night for female voices, first with my latest crush Dazeases, a one-woman musical powerhouse who sings emotionally-charged songs to her pre-recorded sound tracks, allowing her to emote and pantomime as she sings in a voice that could destroy you with its honesty and intensity.
Dressed in a chemise and sheer robe, she almost forgot to do her most radio-friendly song, "Sad College Kids," then destroyed the audience with it and acknowledged, "Now I'm a sad college graduate." As if.
Next came the female-fronted Blanks with husky-voiced Jessica out front and under-the-weather Zoe on cello and everything from debut songs ("No one's ever heard this one except the band") to classics like "Tidal Wave" to Ween covers ("They're one of my favorite bands," Jessica shared) on their set list.
Headlining tonight was Brooklyn's Teen, all clad in red and all arriving intent on engaging the crowd with their '80s-sounding take on synth pop and well-honed musicianship.
Some of us were particularly enamored with having three females who sang, while others of us were satisfied because it was all so dancey in a way that's instantly familiar because we already danced to it in the '80s.
Using fuzzed-out keys, driving rhythm section and the occasional frenetic guitar, the band delivered sassy pop music with a lead singer with a terrific voice, strong stage presence and fabulous harmonies.
I was far from the only one happily dancing in place to their energetic sound.
Although in all likelihood, I was the only one who'd walked over glass bridges, discussed Eames chairs and pointed out strangers' houses beforehand.
Want to bet on it?
Showing posts with label blanks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blanks. Show all posts
Thursday, March 10, 2016
Sunday, January 10, 2016
We're All Standing in the Same Sunlight
Magical moments happen in this town with surprising regularity, but sometimes you realize it's more than just a happening or an evening.
It's the good vibrations of people who live here. It's that people here do things because they love doing them, because they want to share or find like-minded souls. Because they see a need and set out to fill it. Because they're passionate and can't help but spread it around.
Like the Good Day RVA folks, who were putting on a show at Hardywood this evening. Their story is simple: they're a film collective dedicated to capturing live local music performances using Super 8 and digital to showcase just how completely cool this place is.
One thing I knew for sure about tonight's show was that while it wasn't my first show since I got back to Virginia five days ago (or even my second), this would be the one where I'd see the most friends, the greatest number of people I've known through the music scene the longest.
So I was 100% correct.
There were over half a dozen of the long-time Listening Room participants like me, an interesting coincidence since the LR has been a hot topic online this week with people lamenting the absence of a dedicated space where people really do shut up and listen.
Among our group, one recurring theme was how we continue to be surprised when out at shows that (unlike in the past), we no longer recognize the majority of the audience, a good thing since it means more people participating in the music scene than before.
The evening got off to a great start talking to a friend about the unlikely circumstances that had landed both of us in California last week, albeit opposite ends of the state. That led to mutual bemoaning about the weird weather happening the past few weeks and the news that the North Pole's temperature had risen above freezing.
He wasn't shy sharing his fears about how quickly things are changing and that it's clear we're hurtling toward the planet's end with insufficient efforts to adjust our behaviors. Cue tonight's theme.
I was happily catching up with all kinds of friends for the first time in 2016 (my wool and a friend's corduroy hot pants were a major topic, to our fashionista friend's delight), loving the fact that so many of us were there when Blanks took the stage. Turns out none of my friends had sen them before, surprising to me since I first saw them last June and several times since. There are just so many more bands worth seeing.
Leader Jessica has a terrifically husky voice and, according to my friend, they're a band with not just talent, but great hair, perhaps taking a cue from their leader. It was funny, as we admired the guitarist's long mane, she read it as a '90s throwback where several of us saw it as straight-ahead '70s. It's all in your perspective, no?
The wild card turned out to be cellist Zoe (also with fab locks) who demurely took over lead vocals for one song, kicking butts and taking names unexpectedly given her low-key demeanor. "Rock star!" someone in the audience called out when she finished and returned to her chair to wrap her legs around the cello for their last song.
During the break, the dance party king and I reveled in the recent announcement that LCD Soundsystem will be touring this year, right up until Dave Watkins took the stage to blow minds.
If the man was at all jet-lagged from his recent return, he managed to channel it into his usual killer set layering sound until the unobservant might think that there were multiple people on stage, not just one guy with mad skills and gorgeous curly hair.
And at Hardywood, there's so much head room for all that sound to move around in. The bad news was how many people talked the whole way through his set, including a trio of long-haired blond women who set up camp right next to us and annoyed the hell out of those of us trying to hear Dave. Ah, well, it is a brewery.
In line at the bathroom afterwards, the woman in front of me commented when the woman in front of her went into the loo. "So now I know every detail of why her daughter went to film school," she said, sounding a bit weary. "The things you learn standing in line for the ladies' room!"
When I got back to the stage, the Good Day RVA collective was just about to introduce two new videos, the first of which was of Dave performing, shot at the old GRTC bus depot, the one with all the colorful murals done for the RVA Street Art Fest.
With swooping overhead shots and close-ups of Dave playing (and even hitting various pedals on his board) alternating with imagery from the murals, it was enough to make a Richmonder's chest swell with pride about how rad this place and its art-makers are.
But here's the interesting part: partway through, I realized how respectfully hushed the room had gotten. Now that there was a visual on a screen, they were quiet, when mere minutes earlier, they'd been babbling through his live set.
Somebody needs parental guidance.
Next came Lobo Marino's video, shot at Yogaville in Buckingham County, an attempt to protest the natural gas pipeline Dominion wants to put in through Virginia, West Virginia and North Carolina.
Shots of the band - augmented by cellist Zoe and violinist Jessica - playing outdoors in hats and coats at Yogaville were interspersed with footage shot all over the Commonwealth and intended to convey the scope of the proposed project.
It was incredibly moving to watch them perform "Awake" and look at scenes shot everywhere from Highland County to Suffolk County. In many ways, it was a call to action.
After the video, they took the stage to do a live set beginning with "Celebrate," a reminder of appreciating what we have in this planet."We wrote this about the Ganges River, but it's really about the James," Laney said as they launched into the rousing "Holy River."
Having walked the Pipeline Walkway today for the first time in weeks, it was easy to visualize the river while they sang.
Afterwards Laney laid the issue out for the crowd, explaining that preventing this pipeline is our issue. "It's not Dominion's issue, it's not the Virginia State Senate. It's up to each of us to cut back on how much power we use, to responsibly reduce our power usage."
This is one area where I can salute myself because I'm already on board by forsaking air conditioning usage back in 1993 and consistently keeping to 64-degree heat during the winter no matter how many layers I have to add. I may not be off the grid like Laney and Jameson, but I'm certainly doing my little part.
Dave Watkins returned to the stage for a mind-blowing jam session finale with the expanded Lobo Marino that had Dave and Jessica singing into their dulcitar and violin respectively, while Jameson wailed on the mouth harp, Zoe plucked her heart out and Laney tied it together on harmonium.
When they passed around petitions for us to fill out to send to Dominion, I pulled out a pen and made my opinion known and then shared it with friends so they could do the same. Power comes from the people.
"They are so cute," my girlfriend whispered to me. "They make me want to be a better person." They remind me of people I knew back in my college days, people who were trying to effect change from a grass roots level by living differently than the masses and I love that about them.
It's like the '70s redux. We can affect change.
Only at the grooviest shows in Richmond are you absorbing local film-making, being entertained with live music and adding your signature to those of others trying to make our voices heard by the people who would negatively affect our planet and therefore our lives.
We are stardust
We are golden
And we've got to get ourselves
Back to the garden...
The things you learn in Richmond going to a show! How to be a better person, for one.
It's the good vibrations of people who live here. It's that people here do things because they love doing them, because they want to share or find like-minded souls. Because they see a need and set out to fill it. Because they're passionate and can't help but spread it around.
Like the Good Day RVA folks, who were putting on a show at Hardywood this evening. Their story is simple: they're a film collective dedicated to capturing live local music performances using Super 8 and digital to showcase just how completely cool this place is.
One thing I knew for sure about tonight's show was that while it wasn't my first show since I got back to Virginia five days ago (or even my second), this would be the one where I'd see the most friends, the greatest number of people I've known through the music scene the longest.
So I was 100% correct.
There were over half a dozen of the long-time Listening Room participants like me, an interesting coincidence since the LR has been a hot topic online this week with people lamenting the absence of a dedicated space where people really do shut up and listen.
Among our group, one recurring theme was how we continue to be surprised when out at shows that (unlike in the past), we no longer recognize the majority of the audience, a good thing since it means more people participating in the music scene than before.
The evening got off to a great start talking to a friend about the unlikely circumstances that had landed both of us in California last week, albeit opposite ends of the state. That led to mutual bemoaning about the weird weather happening the past few weeks and the news that the North Pole's temperature had risen above freezing.
He wasn't shy sharing his fears about how quickly things are changing and that it's clear we're hurtling toward the planet's end with insufficient efforts to adjust our behaviors. Cue tonight's theme.
I was happily catching up with all kinds of friends for the first time in 2016 (my wool and a friend's corduroy hot pants were a major topic, to our fashionista friend's delight), loving the fact that so many of us were there when Blanks took the stage. Turns out none of my friends had sen them before, surprising to me since I first saw them last June and several times since. There are just so many more bands worth seeing.
Leader Jessica has a terrifically husky voice and, according to my friend, they're a band with not just talent, but great hair, perhaps taking a cue from their leader. It was funny, as we admired the guitarist's long mane, she read it as a '90s throwback where several of us saw it as straight-ahead '70s. It's all in your perspective, no?
The wild card turned out to be cellist Zoe (also with fab locks) who demurely took over lead vocals for one song, kicking butts and taking names unexpectedly given her low-key demeanor. "Rock star!" someone in the audience called out when she finished and returned to her chair to wrap her legs around the cello for their last song.
During the break, the dance party king and I reveled in the recent announcement that LCD Soundsystem will be touring this year, right up until Dave Watkins took the stage to blow minds.
If the man was at all jet-lagged from his recent return, he managed to channel it into his usual killer set layering sound until the unobservant might think that there were multiple people on stage, not just one guy with mad skills and gorgeous curly hair.
And at Hardywood, there's so much head room for all that sound to move around in. The bad news was how many people talked the whole way through his set, including a trio of long-haired blond women who set up camp right next to us and annoyed the hell out of those of us trying to hear Dave. Ah, well, it is a brewery.
In line at the bathroom afterwards, the woman in front of me commented when the woman in front of her went into the loo. "So now I know every detail of why her daughter went to film school," she said, sounding a bit weary. "The things you learn standing in line for the ladies' room!"
When I got back to the stage, the Good Day RVA collective was just about to introduce two new videos, the first of which was of Dave performing, shot at the old GRTC bus depot, the one with all the colorful murals done for the RVA Street Art Fest.
With swooping overhead shots and close-ups of Dave playing (and even hitting various pedals on his board) alternating with imagery from the murals, it was enough to make a Richmonder's chest swell with pride about how rad this place and its art-makers are.
But here's the interesting part: partway through, I realized how respectfully hushed the room had gotten. Now that there was a visual on a screen, they were quiet, when mere minutes earlier, they'd been babbling through his live set.
Somebody needs parental guidance.
Next came Lobo Marino's video, shot at Yogaville in Buckingham County, an attempt to protest the natural gas pipeline Dominion wants to put in through Virginia, West Virginia and North Carolina.
Shots of the band - augmented by cellist Zoe and violinist Jessica - playing outdoors in hats and coats at Yogaville were interspersed with footage shot all over the Commonwealth and intended to convey the scope of the proposed project.
It was incredibly moving to watch them perform "Awake" and look at scenes shot everywhere from Highland County to Suffolk County. In many ways, it was a call to action.
After the video, they took the stage to do a live set beginning with "Celebrate," a reminder of appreciating what we have in this planet."We wrote this about the Ganges River, but it's really about the James," Laney said as they launched into the rousing "Holy River."
Having walked the Pipeline Walkway today for the first time in weeks, it was easy to visualize the river while they sang.
Afterwards Laney laid the issue out for the crowd, explaining that preventing this pipeline is our issue. "It's not Dominion's issue, it's not the Virginia State Senate. It's up to each of us to cut back on how much power we use, to responsibly reduce our power usage."
This is one area where I can salute myself because I'm already on board by forsaking air conditioning usage back in 1993 and consistently keeping to 64-degree heat during the winter no matter how many layers I have to add. I may not be off the grid like Laney and Jameson, but I'm certainly doing my little part.
Dave Watkins returned to the stage for a mind-blowing jam session finale with the expanded Lobo Marino that had Dave and Jessica singing into their dulcitar and violin respectively, while Jameson wailed on the mouth harp, Zoe plucked her heart out and Laney tied it together on harmonium.
When they passed around petitions for us to fill out to send to Dominion, I pulled out a pen and made my opinion known and then shared it with friends so they could do the same. Power comes from the people.
"They are so cute," my girlfriend whispered to me. "They make me want to be a better person." They remind me of people I knew back in my college days, people who were trying to effect change from a grass roots level by living differently than the masses and I love that about them.
It's like the '70s redux. We can affect change.
Only at the grooviest shows in Richmond are you absorbing local film-making, being entertained with live music and adding your signature to those of others trying to make our voices heard by the people who would negatively affect our planet and therefore our lives.
We are stardust
We are golden
And we've got to get ourselves
Back to the garden...
The things you learn in Richmond going to a show! How to be a better person, for one.
Tuesday, November 17, 2015
Everybody Was So Young
You know I do it for the art.
Feel free to argue the point with me, but the fact is, Richmond is underserved by public art. The real issue here is how it's possible we can have this public art school that's won accolades from all over and still be a city deficient in outdoor art.
But tonight the recently-formed Public Arts Commission convened a public meeting so I showed up to share my feelings.
Actually, lots of people showed up to sit at the map-covered tables, clearly far more than the commission was anticipating since a few tables had no maps and some people wound up sitting along the walls, not even within reach of a map.
The good news is that Richmond requires that all capital projects set aside 1% of their budget for the public art fund., so there's no reason to think our new commission isn't going to get the public art ball rolling a bit more earnestly than in the past.
We began with slides of public art, moving through the different kinds: iconic (the "Cloudgate" bean in Chicago), memorials (St. Louis arch), functional ("Flying carpet," a topographical carpet in the Sacramento airport), integrated (Austria's Muir Island Bridge, a man-made metal island with two bridges linking it to land), interactive ("Crown Fountain" in Chicago) and temporary ("Park-cycles" in San Francisco).
I admit I've only seen the two in Chicago, although maybe "Park-cycles" is in my near future.
A lively group discussion allowed people to share their most memorable public spaces, while discussion of why Richmond is unique devolved into one-upmanship with people trying to show off their knowledge of Richmond minutiae (one woman bragged about our Class 5 rapids, which we don't even have).
I had a proud moment when someone mentioned Jackson Ward as one of our best features. Yes, sir, it is.
More enjoyable and satisfying was getting to put stickers on those giant maps of where we'd like to see public art. At my table, stickers landed on Manchester, the Jeff Davis corridor and Chamberlayne north of Broad, places such as Barton Heights and Highland Park.
Hell, I put stickers over by Shockoe Hill cemetery and Hospital Street. Talk about an area that could benefit from some beautification. One woman put a sticker on Libby Hill, a place I feel already gets plenty o' love and already has public art. I left soon after.
I got home just as a friend was dropping off a book for me, the beautifully titled, "Everybody Was So Young" by Amanda Vaill, a book she thinks I'll enjoy as much as she did. I intend to find out so we can discuss it over absinthe sometime soon.
Despite having seen music Saturday and Sunday nights, I was still feeling a musical deficit, so I told her I was off to Gallery 5 for three bands. Her response? "Of course you are."
The door guy greeted me with a grin and a question. Had I used my gift certificate to Max's yet, the one I'd won at bingo? Nope. Was I coming to bingo tomorrow? Yep.
It was a small crowd, even for a Tuesday night, and as usual, the punctual were punished and the tardy rewarded with a later start to accommodate them. Luckily, the people-watching was good to pass the time.
Up first was We Never, a young-looking band, and the lead singer's parents were in the crowd, meaning that when he took a big swig of beer and followed it with a massive burp, Mom yelled, "Nice!" to correct him.
"Get outta here, Mom!" he called from the stage, trying to salvage a little dignity. Some Moms just aren't cut out for rock and roll. Their brief set ranged from low-key acoustic to a honky tonk barn burner and, yes, when it ended Mom complained loudly that it had been too short.
Overheard during the break: "She loves a good cat video. There's nothing better for her than that."
Brooklyn duo Shana Falana was next and I felt owed them. Although I'd gone to their May show at Balliceaux, their set had inexplicably begun early and I'd missed some of it. Tonight I wanted a full dose of their trippy dreamgaze sound and groovy light show.
Cosmic, man.
With guitar, drums, a bass backing track and lots of reverb, they achieved woozy psychedelic status from the first moment Shana opened her mouth to sing. Even the talkers in the crowd shut up once they realized they were hearing something pretty terrific.
After their set, I was joined by a music-loving couple who were drawn to me by the enticing scent of the clementine I was eating (hey, sometimes a person needs a show snack). Although I've known them for about five years, I knew nothing about their history and set out to correct that.
What a great story! Became platonic roommates 25 years ago and got married five years ago on the anniversary of her asking him if he thought he might ever want to marry her.
My question was why, after ten years together, had she posed such a question? He looked at me, looked at her and admitted that even he didn't know the answer to that one. Answer: She'd gotten a toy ring that day and it got her thinking that he was just the kind of person she'd want to marry someday.
The rest, as they say, is history. Two art kids meet at SCAD, go on a date to see Peter Murphy and live happily ever after.
About then Recluse Raccoon took the stage, but only to tease us with a couple of instrumental songs. The singer had no voice, so Blanks joined them onstage and as lead singer Jessica put it, "We're gonna swallow them," making for a quintet: two guitars, drums, bass and a lovely cello.
Their set was brief - Jessica had been drinking coffee when I arrived, admitting she was seriously tired - but we got a couple of gems out of them, songs such as "Tidal Wave" ("This is more for them than for you," she told us, gesturing at the band) and "Fishing in the Dark."
Ah, yes, I felt so much better.
Some women seek out cat videos and some of us need nothing more than a few hours of live music. There's nothing better for this her than that.
Feel free to argue the point with me, but the fact is, Richmond is underserved by public art. The real issue here is how it's possible we can have this public art school that's won accolades from all over and still be a city deficient in outdoor art.
But tonight the recently-formed Public Arts Commission convened a public meeting so I showed up to share my feelings.
Actually, lots of people showed up to sit at the map-covered tables, clearly far more than the commission was anticipating since a few tables had no maps and some people wound up sitting along the walls, not even within reach of a map.
The good news is that Richmond requires that all capital projects set aside 1% of their budget for the public art fund., so there's no reason to think our new commission isn't going to get the public art ball rolling a bit more earnestly than in the past.
We began with slides of public art, moving through the different kinds: iconic (the "Cloudgate" bean in Chicago), memorials (St. Louis arch), functional ("Flying carpet," a topographical carpet in the Sacramento airport), integrated (Austria's Muir Island Bridge, a man-made metal island with two bridges linking it to land), interactive ("Crown Fountain" in Chicago) and temporary ("Park-cycles" in San Francisco).
I admit I've only seen the two in Chicago, although maybe "Park-cycles" is in my near future.
A lively group discussion allowed people to share their most memorable public spaces, while discussion of why Richmond is unique devolved into one-upmanship with people trying to show off their knowledge of Richmond minutiae (one woman bragged about our Class 5 rapids, which we don't even have).
I had a proud moment when someone mentioned Jackson Ward as one of our best features. Yes, sir, it is.
More enjoyable and satisfying was getting to put stickers on those giant maps of where we'd like to see public art. At my table, stickers landed on Manchester, the Jeff Davis corridor and Chamberlayne north of Broad, places such as Barton Heights and Highland Park.
Hell, I put stickers over by Shockoe Hill cemetery and Hospital Street. Talk about an area that could benefit from some beautification. One woman put a sticker on Libby Hill, a place I feel already gets plenty o' love and already has public art. I left soon after.
I got home just as a friend was dropping off a book for me, the beautifully titled, "Everybody Was So Young" by Amanda Vaill, a book she thinks I'll enjoy as much as she did. I intend to find out so we can discuss it over absinthe sometime soon.
Despite having seen music Saturday and Sunday nights, I was still feeling a musical deficit, so I told her I was off to Gallery 5 for three bands. Her response? "Of course you are."
The door guy greeted me with a grin and a question. Had I used my gift certificate to Max's yet, the one I'd won at bingo? Nope. Was I coming to bingo tomorrow? Yep.
It was a small crowd, even for a Tuesday night, and as usual, the punctual were punished and the tardy rewarded with a later start to accommodate them. Luckily, the people-watching was good to pass the time.
Up first was We Never, a young-looking band, and the lead singer's parents were in the crowd, meaning that when he took a big swig of beer and followed it with a massive burp, Mom yelled, "Nice!" to correct him.
"Get outta here, Mom!" he called from the stage, trying to salvage a little dignity. Some Moms just aren't cut out for rock and roll. Their brief set ranged from low-key acoustic to a honky tonk barn burner and, yes, when it ended Mom complained loudly that it had been too short.
Overheard during the break: "She loves a good cat video. There's nothing better for her than that."
Brooklyn duo Shana Falana was next and I felt owed them. Although I'd gone to their May show at Balliceaux, their set had inexplicably begun early and I'd missed some of it. Tonight I wanted a full dose of their trippy dreamgaze sound and groovy light show.
Cosmic, man.
With guitar, drums, a bass backing track and lots of reverb, they achieved woozy psychedelic status from the first moment Shana opened her mouth to sing. Even the talkers in the crowd shut up once they realized they were hearing something pretty terrific.
After their set, I was joined by a music-loving couple who were drawn to me by the enticing scent of the clementine I was eating (hey, sometimes a person needs a show snack). Although I've known them for about five years, I knew nothing about their history and set out to correct that.
What a great story! Became platonic roommates 25 years ago and got married five years ago on the anniversary of her asking him if he thought he might ever want to marry her.
My question was why, after ten years together, had she posed such a question? He looked at me, looked at her and admitted that even he didn't know the answer to that one. Answer: She'd gotten a toy ring that day and it got her thinking that he was just the kind of person she'd want to marry someday.
The rest, as they say, is history. Two art kids meet at SCAD, go on a date to see Peter Murphy and live happily ever after.
About then Recluse Raccoon took the stage, but only to tease us with a couple of instrumental songs. The singer had no voice, so Blanks joined them onstage and as lead singer Jessica put it, "We're gonna swallow them," making for a quintet: two guitars, drums, bass and a lovely cello.
Their set was brief - Jessica had been drinking coffee when I arrived, admitting she was seriously tired - but we got a couple of gems out of them, songs such as "Tidal Wave" ("This is more for them than for you," she told us, gesturing at the band) and "Fishing in the Dark."
Ah, yes, I felt so much better.
Some women seek out cat videos and some of us need nothing more than a few hours of live music. There's nothing better for this her than that.
Monday, June 2, 2014
Now Hear This
After keeping it in the neighborhood all day long, I did the same tonight.
It wasn't a tough call. There was a terrific show at Gallery 5 and on my walk over, I saw the sloppy remains of Broad Appetit being dismantled, plastic soda and water bottles still littering the street.
No surprise, it always takes a few days to recover from the influx of visitors to the 'hood, people who forget that this is a place where people actually live, not just festival central.
At Gallery 5, I said hello to a few musicians I knew before heading inside for the show to begin.
The inimitable Dave Watkins was first up, wooing people away from their conversations and phones to watch him work magic on his electric dulcitar.
They really had no choice once he kicked into the second song, a punch to the gut that was far harder than usual and screamed far closer to Half Bascule, his Appalachian folk/spaghetti western/metal project.
A Mogwai cover wasn't far behind as I savored Dave's take on post rock and a band I know he loves.
The enthusiastic applause at the end of his set came from both people like me who've had the pleasure of watching him for years as well as those who were seeing him for the first time tonight, marveling at how one man can make so much sound.
Next came Blanks, in their first appearance playing out and fronted by Jessica Blanks, whom I've seen play violin and keyboards many times in the past as part of Zac Hyricak and the Jungle Beat.
They were four women - cello, violin/synth and two guitars - and a guy on drums, with his drum kit decorated with garlands of roses.
Jessica had told me outside that she'd be playing guitar, something I'd never seen her do, and that she was nervous. I recognized the other guitarist from the band Spandrel, purveyors of classic '70s-sounding rock and it was she who took charge, saying to the crowd, "Guys, don't stand back there. It's dark!" and pulling us closer to the stage.
She and Jessica sang together, their voices blending beautifully on Jessica's songs as they worked through their set.
We soon learned that Jack the drummer won't graduate high school until next week. "So are you saying he's barely legal?" a girl called from the audience. And if he is, then what?
Wait, wait, don't tell me.
Their chamber pop rock sound was fascinating for the amalgamation of cello and violin with synths, drum and guitar and I'm looking forward to future shows as they get more comfortable with each other and the material.
I thought they showed extraordinary promise for a first outing.
Brooklyn's Cal Folger Day took the stage next, starting by playing guitar and singing. "I'm going to begin with a song about crockery called "Butterfingers," she deadpanned.
Her voice was a revelation, part Joni Mitchell, part Regina Spektor and her lyrics both quirky and confessional.
When she couldn't remember the opening line to a song, she shrugged and said, "And the name of the song is "Stupid!" It didn't matter, she went on to play "Having a Boyfriend Ain't the Christian Thing to Do" with her tongue firmly in cheek (I think).
As a heathen, frankly it doesn't matter to me whether it is or isn't.
Eventually the "Stupid" lyrics came back to her and she played it for us, including the brilliant lyric, "If only you were stupid, then this would be easy." Ain't it the truth?
After a while, she moved over to the keyboard saying she was a fan of the DelMarVa area and the word itself before singing a song about Lewes, Delaware, a place her family has a home.
Her voice was amazing, whether on a song about where you want your body buried or about having a teenage crush on the man whose kids you babysit.
When she finished, she let us know she had music for sale along with an illustrated housekeeping manual. You know, that last bit of information didn't even come as a surprise, unique as she came across.
To close out the evening was Nevin Kight, the name of Kevin Night's music project. He's a guitarist with Wild Nothing, which means I may already have seen him when I saw Wild Nothing play Strange Matter two summers ago on a blazingly hot August night.
He's in town recording an album and he'd assembled a group of local musicians including Jessica and one of the guys from Spandrel, among others, to play with him tonight so we were looking at two guitarists, a bassist, a violinist and two drummers.
Seems they'd begun at 12:30 last night and practiced for three hours and now we were going to see how that worked out.
As they kicked into "Affirmation" off that upcoming record, one of the drummers grabbed a tambourine in one hand and a grapefruit in the other and perched on top of an amp, looming over Kevin.
As he took a bite from the fruit, he jumped down, sat on the stage and peeled it before taking off into the audience to distribute sections to some of us.
I'd have to say it's the first time I've been handed grapefruit at a show.
"We're going to do a Chris Isaak cover," Kevin said, "but all the songs on that album are great, not just "Wicked Game."
I thought they nailed the cover, even if not everyone knew exactly when the song was supposed to end. As Kevin pointed out, considering the band wasn't even a day old, they were doing a damn fine job.
Saying he had dreamed the song, Kevin announced "Serf Under the Table," which grew into a psychedelic wall of guitar and drum sound I was hoping would never end. My wish is that it will sound that big on the album.
"Work It Out" and "Changeling" were almost as good and you could see the musicians getting more comfortable with each song.
Kevin said his new album was being recorded in Nashville and Richmond and I found it appropriate to hear us in the company of music city.
The band left the stage except for Jessica and Kevin and they closed with "Angels and Birds," which would have been the slow dance of the evening if this had been a dance.
But it wasn't a dance, it was just a grand neighborhood show to close out Sunday. For the most part, a fun day.
It wasn't a tough call. There was a terrific show at Gallery 5 and on my walk over, I saw the sloppy remains of Broad Appetit being dismantled, plastic soda and water bottles still littering the street.
No surprise, it always takes a few days to recover from the influx of visitors to the 'hood, people who forget that this is a place where people actually live, not just festival central.
At Gallery 5, I said hello to a few musicians I knew before heading inside for the show to begin.
The inimitable Dave Watkins was first up, wooing people away from their conversations and phones to watch him work magic on his electric dulcitar.
They really had no choice once he kicked into the second song, a punch to the gut that was far harder than usual and screamed far closer to Half Bascule, his Appalachian folk/spaghetti western/metal project.
A Mogwai cover wasn't far behind as I savored Dave's take on post rock and a band I know he loves.
The enthusiastic applause at the end of his set came from both people like me who've had the pleasure of watching him for years as well as those who were seeing him for the first time tonight, marveling at how one man can make so much sound.
Next came Blanks, in their first appearance playing out and fronted by Jessica Blanks, whom I've seen play violin and keyboards many times in the past as part of Zac Hyricak and the Jungle Beat.
They were four women - cello, violin/synth and two guitars - and a guy on drums, with his drum kit decorated with garlands of roses.
Jessica had told me outside that she'd be playing guitar, something I'd never seen her do, and that she was nervous. I recognized the other guitarist from the band Spandrel, purveyors of classic '70s-sounding rock and it was she who took charge, saying to the crowd, "Guys, don't stand back there. It's dark!" and pulling us closer to the stage.
She and Jessica sang together, their voices blending beautifully on Jessica's songs as they worked through their set.
We soon learned that Jack the drummer won't graduate high school until next week. "So are you saying he's barely legal?" a girl called from the audience. And if he is, then what?
Wait, wait, don't tell me.
Their chamber pop rock sound was fascinating for the amalgamation of cello and violin with synths, drum and guitar and I'm looking forward to future shows as they get more comfortable with each other and the material.
I thought they showed extraordinary promise for a first outing.
Brooklyn's Cal Folger Day took the stage next, starting by playing guitar and singing. "I'm going to begin with a song about crockery called "Butterfingers," she deadpanned.
Her voice was a revelation, part Joni Mitchell, part Regina Spektor and her lyrics both quirky and confessional.
When she couldn't remember the opening line to a song, she shrugged and said, "And the name of the song is "Stupid!" It didn't matter, she went on to play "Having a Boyfriend Ain't the Christian Thing to Do" with her tongue firmly in cheek (I think).
As a heathen, frankly it doesn't matter to me whether it is or isn't.
Eventually the "Stupid" lyrics came back to her and she played it for us, including the brilliant lyric, "If only you were stupid, then this would be easy." Ain't it the truth?
After a while, she moved over to the keyboard saying she was a fan of the DelMarVa area and the word itself before singing a song about Lewes, Delaware, a place her family has a home.
Her voice was amazing, whether on a song about where you want your body buried or about having a teenage crush on the man whose kids you babysit.
When she finished, she let us know she had music for sale along with an illustrated housekeeping manual. You know, that last bit of information didn't even come as a surprise, unique as she came across.
To close out the evening was Nevin Kight, the name of Kevin Night's music project. He's a guitarist with Wild Nothing, which means I may already have seen him when I saw Wild Nothing play Strange Matter two summers ago on a blazingly hot August night.
He's in town recording an album and he'd assembled a group of local musicians including Jessica and one of the guys from Spandrel, among others, to play with him tonight so we were looking at two guitarists, a bassist, a violinist and two drummers.
Seems they'd begun at 12:30 last night and practiced for three hours and now we were going to see how that worked out.
As they kicked into "Affirmation" off that upcoming record, one of the drummers grabbed a tambourine in one hand and a grapefruit in the other and perched on top of an amp, looming over Kevin.
As he took a bite from the fruit, he jumped down, sat on the stage and peeled it before taking off into the audience to distribute sections to some of us.
I'd have to say it's the first time I've been handed grapefruit at a show.
"We're going to do a Chris Isaak cover," Kevin said, "but all the songs on that album are great, not just "Wicked Game."
I thought they nailed the cover, even if not everyone knew exactly when the song was supposed to end. As Kevin pointed out, considering the band wasn't even a day old, they were doing a damn fine job.
Saying he had dreamed the song, Kevin announced "Serf Under the Table," which grew into a psychedelic wall of guitar and drum sound I was hoping would never end. My wish is that it will sound that big on the album.
"Work It Out" and "Changeling" were almost as good and you could see the musicians getting more comfortable with each song.
Kevin said his new album was being recorded in Nashville and Richmond and I found it appropriate to hear us in the company of music city.
The band left the stage except for Jessica and Kevin and they closed with "Angels and Birds," which would have been the slow dance of the evening if this had been a dance.
But it wasn't a dance, it was just a grand neighborhood show to close out Sunday. For the most part, a fun day.
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