Melancholy, ArrivAdduci and Latecomers

Sunday, that's my fun day, my "I don't have to run day."

Escaping Broad Appetit for the VMFA got me the D'Amore Duo (Yeon Jee Sohn on oboe and William Feasley on guitar) doing a concert called "Leaves of Grass."

It was a tie-in to the new exhibit I saw yesterday, here, "Bold, Cautious, True: Walt Whitman and American Art of the Civil War Era."

As the educator who introduced the musicians said, "This performance will send you running to see the exhibit."

Didn't need to run since I'd already done my homework.

The music was loosely related to themes of sadness, with "And Never the Same Way Twice, Flowing" eliciting Feasley's wry comment, "Very gruesome tuning this one has."

I don't even have a clue what that means and I loved the sound of it.

There was a guitar piece called "Ashokan Farewell" that Ken Burns used in his Civil War documentary and a fantasia and tango on Mile Davis' "So What."

"The Pateroller Sonata" was a world premiere of the piece for oboe and guitar; the second movement, "Behind the Moon" was exquisitely beautiful.

It made me long for tomorrow's full moon.

Most heartbreaking piece went to "Sonata - "To the Sadness of Buenos Aries," taken from a post- World War II Argentinian poet laureate.

On New Year's Eve she wrote this poem, now song, sent it to the national newspaper and then walked into the sea.

As the nation awoke and read her piece, she was drowned.

The sounds of the sea throughout the piece were tragic reminders.

Two sonatas, two tangos, a fantasia and a fantasy, a variation on  a variation and four pieces written specifically for the D'Amore Duo.

Not bad for an afternoon's pleasure.

Food followed melancholia at Secco for the final All Sara Sunday.

No longer will there be two Saras on staff on Sundays as cheese whiz Sara Adduci prepares to head westward.

Secco was saluting her with food and wine, like the clever "ArrivAdduci" flight.

Tete a Claques was my poison, all pink and pretty, and much food was consumed along with it.

Gnocchi with sea urchin butter began things delicately and decadently.

Local green beans with speck, walnuts, hard cooked egg and mustard vinaigrette was an impeccable new flavor combination on the menu.

When a man near me saw it arrive, he raved about it, saying he and his wife had finished the same dish earlier.

I didn't realize how much earlier he meant until they went to leave and said they'd been there since 3:00.

It was 8:30 by then. That's a healthy visit to your local wine bar.

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

The arugula salad with chicken confit, dried cherries, Stilton and roasted shallot vinaigrette never disappoints with its rich flavors.

The nod to Sara was a Gruyere fondue ("Had to do it," said the sous chef) with asparagus spears and house made pretzel bread sticks for dipping.

With a tribute like that, chances are she won't want to leave.

Dessert was chocolate cream in puff pastry with hazelnut praline and caramel sauce.

On a trip to the bathroom, I met a guy from Nelson County who makes lotion.

He had a tub of it with him, so I sampled it, trying it on my hands and legs, impressed with the rosemary and mint scents and the emollient quality of the beeswax based mixture.

I was quizzed. Would I pay $10 for it at a farmer's market? Yes, I would.

Heard some people talking about a woman with 23 stars tattooed on her chest.

Why 23, I wondered?

Seems 23 was how much pain she could endure from the needle before crying uncle. The actual number was meaningless to her.

Oddly enough, 23 is my favorite number, so it would have been a splendid choice for me, but her, not so much.

And me, zero interest in tattoos, stars or otherwise.

So much had been going on that all of a sudden it was time for us to fly to Balliceaux for music.

We arrived a bit after 9:00 and I waited for the song being played, "Timberline," to be finished before entering the room and finding a seat for Jonathan Vassar and the Speckled Bird.

Once in my barstool, I caught singer Antonia's eyes and she mine.

"We started on time," she said part accusingly and part matter-of-factly.

Gulp. Caught coming in late and called on it. With humor, but called.

I did my best, I told her.

"Andrew was here on time," she teased, pointing at my music buddy across the room.

Yes, the same music buddy who had been introduced to JV&SB by yours truly.

The amusing part, as both Andrew and I knew, was that he's frequently late for shows only to find me already in place.

But that's okay. I can take criticism if it's merited. Mark me tardy.

The band was minus cellist Josh tonight but even without his superb bowing, it was a set of heartfelt Americana and Antonia's warbling vox saw.

When the set ended and the mingling began, I found out why it doesn't pay to be a latecomer.

Although I'd caught the first official song of the set, I'd missed the oddities that proceeded it.

They'd played a composition by their excellent trumpet player Paul Watson as well as a cover of a Sparklehorse song.

There had been been a third rarity, but I didn't even need to know what it had been.

It had been a fine Sunday. Definitely a fun day.

Even if I did have to run day.

Better tardy than absent.

Missionary Work

Look how sunshine is the punchline.

A clandestine dinner at an undisclosed location brings up the question of the evening. How much pig does any one person really need?

Music four ways followed at Gallery 5. Walking in, I asked the ticket taker how soon till music. "In a second," he said as the poet shushed me from the first row.

At that moment, David Shultz began singing. Timing is everything.

We had arrived too late for seats, though, so we found a table at the back and leaned in to hear his songs of "every once in a blue moon" and "spirits ain't too frozen."

As much as I enjoy David playing with his band The Skyline, it's always a pleasure to hear his heartfelt songs accompanied only by his guitar.

Athens, Georgia's Hope for agoldensummer was up next and, while I've seen them before, this time they were as much a comedy act as a musical one.

Don't get me wrong; the harmonizing of two sisters is a thing of beauty, but as someone who has five sisters can attest, sisters have a unique bond and language.

These two were hysterical,doing a sound check to a song about THC and LSD and talking about their long drive down I-95 today to reach Richmond.

Apparently they decided to learn a Robin song. "So we have this awesome three-part harmony," Claire explained. "But it looks like we forgot it."

Forging ahead anyway, they asked what the song's first note was, guessing F.

Their long-suffering male band mate looked over at them (no doubt after an endless afternoon hearing them practice this pop throwaway) and with just the slightest bit of condescension said, "It's an A!"

Only then did we hear any Robin.

They told of going to a corn maze ("We love corn mazes") and getting lost for four hours.

They'd seen a sign at the concession stand saying that if you created a song about the corn maze, you got a free candy bar.

Tonight we heard the song that won them the candy bar.

There was instrument trading, anecdote sharing and saw playing.

It may quite possibly have been the only saw playing going on in Richmond tonight.

But it should be noted that there was also vox saw courtesy of Jonathan Vassar and Speckled Bird, hot off their recent Obama rally performance, and playing next,

"I have to tell you, Michelle Obama's arms are even more impressive in person," Antonia shared. Damn.

During some technical difficulties with Josh's cello (how often do you hear that?), Antonia and Jonathan brought out the banter.

They also brought out the music, beginning with "Cold River Cold" and mentioning their upcoming CD release show.

Standing there hearing Jonathan's sad songs and Antonia's angelic singing with Paul's horn and Josh's cello or clarinet reminded me how far their sound has come since I first heard them.

It was always Americana but now there's a beautiful lushness to it.

Last up was the Diamond Center, a band I've seen scores of times and love for their fuzzy psychedelic big sound.

And yet the show poster had promised that they'd be playing "acoustic-ish."

That was way too alluring to pass up hearing.

Where was all that noise, tribal drumming and volume going to go?

They solved that by being a two-piece instead of a four-piece.

Guitarist Kyle led off with, "It's warm in here. I'm as sweaty as a whore in church," before launching into the most ethereal TDC sound ever.

Brandy's voice and acoustic guitar met Kyle's quieter guitar playing (it was still a Rickenbacker, after all) for a stripped down and yet still swirling sound.

She warned us that Kyle was going to sing a cover next and he even apologized in advance for it.

Turns out they did an excellent cover of Velvet Underground's "Candy Says" as well as some rarely performed older songs from their last record.

"We need to record a new album," Kyle admitted. Indeed they do.

A highlight arrived when the duo invited nine people up on stage and gave each a pitch pipe.

Up there was Matt from Snowy Owls, Allison from the Garbers, Dave Watkins and all of Hope for agoldensummer."

"If yours has an A, play A," Brandy instructed. "If not, play D and don't pass out."

Everyone followed instruction and the song had a special charm for the accompaniment.

The show ended abruptly when they realized how late it was getting, but I already had my satisfaction.

I may never hear them play that way again.

Leaving G5, it was an easy two-block stroll to Bistro 27 for late night cocktails and dessert.

Everyone I take to 27 lately is loving on the Simpatico, a riff on a Negroni, but I went simply with Cazadores on ice.

And a chocolate mousse because it seemed like the least difficult dessert to request at that hour.

Over drinks and a stellar soundtrack, we discussed evangelism, travel, overindulgence, five-year plans and organized religion.

Not bad considering the hour, but some credit must go to the barkeep who kept things lively.

In the words of someone else, "Just another Friday night."

Hey, as long as my night has a good punchline, it can be just another Anyday.

But sunshine's as good an analogy as any.

Are You A Culture Maker?

It was called a pre-birthday show even though the day is a month from today.

And just to be clear, it only became that once the subject of May come up and I said I liked to spend much of it in an extended birthday celebration.

And if anything was going to kick off a birthday celebration appropriately for me, it was with live music at my neighborhood record store.

Upstairs in the loft at Steady Sounds and ready to play was Jonathan Vassar and the Speckled Bird.

We waited until we had critical mass - as many audience members as band members.

People continued to trickle in as JV&SB played what has become the most beautifully full-sounding Americana being played in these parts.

Josh's cello and clarinet plus Paul's horn add such aural richness to the guitar, accordion and voice talents of Jonathan and Antonia (deep blue dress and grooviest 60s belt ever)

Before they'd begun playing, they'd asked for requests and I'd jokingly said "happy songs" knowing full well there's no such thing with JV&SB.

If I'd been honest and not smart-mouthed, I'd have asked for "Match Made in Heaven" because of the heartfelt romantic lyrics and Antonia's vox saw.

There is no one I know of in this town who can bend her voice to that sound like she can.  It's truly a thing of beauty.

And they played it without me even asking.

At the end of their set, Jonathan said, "Happy Pre-Birthday" and a friend leaned over and whispered, "Happy birthday 2013."

Never leave for next year what you can do today.

Let me just reiterate: at no point was tonight about my birthday, which is a solid month away.

Following them was Ed Askew, considered an acid folk legend and former recluse who apparently had two brilliant albums and then disappeared.

But even while out of the public eye, he kept making music. He's finally been rediscovered and reissued and is back on tour, luckily for us.

He looked like an old hippie, he sounded exactly like a 60s-era folksinger (intonation, vocal stylings, subject matter) and he was a character.

You know a guy is real when he loosens his belt before a show. That's all I'm saying.

Making self-deprecating age jokes in between songs, he seemed to be genuinely getting into performing.

He had an array of mouth harps and played them skillfully; I sneaked glances of Jonathan watching him play.

It might have even been a grasshopper moment.

Most interesting of all for me was hearing songs from his early albums written in the late 60s and early 70s  with lots of eye references, lots of ship imagery, lots of joints.

So here were young man lyrics (often my favorite kind for their angst and impassioned qualities) coming out of an old man's face and body.

But his words.

It was a fascinating dichotomy.

After his set accompanied on banjo and keyboard by two bandmates, he took questions from the audience about the arc of his career.

I have to admire someone still so compelled to write and record as much music as he does.

But it was definitely like being transported to another time and place when music was very different (a time when all the girls had belts as cool as Antonia's).

For the second time in three days, I could have imagined snapping my fingers in applause.

And then for something completely different to close out our loft show, we heard Pull My Daisy, an electronic noise project duo with video.

With a piano score composed by the banjo player and him occasionally playing banjo live, tonight's experience was called "Midnight Suggestion" and was an improvised score to an improvised video.

The way I see it, if my pre-birthday kickoff involves one of my favorite local bands, an acid folk legend and electronica on a Monday night, it's looking to be a pretty groovy birthday season.

Practically a match made in heaven.

Where's My Cloud Now?

Big Sexy Sly was probably smiling down on Balliceaux's back room tonight.

That's because playing were Jonathan Vassar and the Speckled Bird and Jonathan and Big Sexy were once coworkers at the old Bogart's.

You see, if you don't go to Sunday night music shows, you don't hear arcane trivia like that.

Even more impressive, you don't get to hear a favorite band in their latest permutation with the addition of cornet player Paul Watson. And cello player Josh Quarles on electric guitar and clarinet.

Balliceaux is not a frequent venue for JV & SB; the last time I'd seen them there was January and the show had unfortunately been scheduled for a Saturday night when all the pretty people show up there.

And by pretty people, I mean people who could not have cared less who was playing but came to drink on a Saturday night and talk loudly over the music.

Which is their prerogative, but made it hard to hear for those of us who came for music.

Tonight, on the other hand, everyone who came was there specifically to hear the band.

In fact, some of us arrived before the back room was even open. I waited at the front bar and a woman came in, sat down next to me and started peeling off clothing.

She was as hot as I was chilled, just having come in from the cold. She'd walked, so she'd gotten warmed up in a way I hadn't. I found out she'd come for the band, too.

When some friends came in and saw her next to me, one of them presumed us to be friends and introduced himself to her. Only then did I learn her name and that she lives in nearby Carver.

Once in the back room, though, I saw her saying hello to any number of people I know. I couldn't resist going over to her and teasing her about the two degrees of separation in Richmond.

We practically already knew each other except we'd never actually laid eyes on each other.

But it's that kind of crowd who comes out for a Sunday show of a local favorite: music lovers who know other music lovers.

Midway through the show I heard some nearby rustling and looked over to see the scientist with a chocolate bar.

He grinned and silently handed me a square.

After the first song, I  commented how much I liked the new sound of JV & SB and the musician next to me  agreed, saying,  "It's beautiful. It's the same and different."

The band was playing a lot of songs off their upcoming CD but had brought along overruns from their last CD, which they were giving away for free tonight.

"But we're not going to give our new one away for free," Jonathan told the crowd. Not that they'll need to considering how impressive the songs sounded.

The addition of Paul's horn, especially paired with Josh's clarinet, took the band's music to a whole new level.

When the set ended, the crowd clapped long and hard then didn't move.

"That's all the songs this band knows," Jonathan explained before Antonia suggested a song the two of them could do.

So the beautiful night of music ended with "Match Made in Heaven," an older song but the one that features Antonia's vox saw.

I can't imagine I'll ever get tired of hearing that amazing voice of hers emulate a musical saw to Jonathan's heartfelt (but always sad) lyrics.

No doubt Chef Big Sexy Sly would be awfully proud of his former dishwasher Jonathan and his excellent band.

I was just glad that the pretty people hadn't shown up so I got to hear every note.