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"Backstage" gives
you the background and expertise that makes the music and
dance CITYFOLK presents come alive in so many dimensions --
historical, societal, musical, personal and emotional. CITYFOLK
is fortuante to have music expert and writer Jon Hartley Fox
to write these essays.
Jon Hartley Fox, a Dayton native now living in California,
has finished his first book, King Of The Queen City: The
Story of King Records, to be published next year by the
University of Illinois Press. He has been writing about music,
pop culture and the arts for over thirty years.
April 23, 2004
-- Khalid Moss: Jazz Summit
with Gary Bartz, Lewis Nash and Jim Anderson
Sometimes you have to leave home to
achieve your dreams. Sometimes you don’t. And sometimes--dreams
being how they are--you have to leave to be tested and
then return, like a character in some Homeric epic.. That’s
the way it’s been for pianist Khalid Moss.
Born in Chicago, Khalid Moss was raised in Dayton. He started
playing piano at a young age and played throughout his youth.
It was while Moss was studying at Ohio University in Athens
that his music really caught fire and he decided to try to
make a career out of it. After graduating in 1976, Moss briefly
returned to Dayton for what amounted to a post-graduate tutorial
in jazz performance.
Moss got a gig playing piano at Gilly’s, then as now
the premier jazz club in Dayton. It was an important confidence-builder
for the young pianist, as he got the chance to perform with
such major jazz players as Sonny Stitt and Rohsaan Roland
Kirk. Both Stitt and Kirk encouraged Moss to move to New York,
which was where serious jazz musicians went if they wanted
to play in the big leagues.
Organist Richard “Groove” Holmes must have been
especially encouraging and persuasive, as he convinced Moss
to join him on tour, where Moss played three electronic keyboards
to complement Holmes’ Hammond B-3 organ. When the tour
ended in New York, Moss networked his way to a gig with tenor
saxophonist Pharoah Sanders. As a member of Sanders’
band, Moss played such leading New York jazz venues as the
Village Vanguard.
The Sanders gig led to a job with Yusef Lateef, another tenor
saxophonist. Lateef, who also played flute and oboe, was an
early pioneer of what came to be called “world music.”
Moss enjoyed his time in this boundary-stretching band, which
came to an end in late 1979, when Lateef moved to Africa.
Within a couple of weeks, Moss landed a job with the great
jazz vocalist Betty Carter. Moss thought he had worked hard
in Lateef’s band, but Carter was a demanding and exacting
boss who took hard work to another level. As Moss later recalled
in an interview with CITYFOLK’S Dave Barber, “She
told me: ‘You think you can play the piano? You’ll
be able to play the piano when you leave me.’ We rehearsed
two weeks straight for five days a week getting her arrangements
down. There were so many things I learned from Betty.”
It was hard work, but it was a great gig. After years of relative
obscurity, Carter became a big star in the early 1980s, with
top-selling albums showcasing her idiosyncratic singing. She
was on a well-deserved roll, and her piano-bass-drums trio
played the best clubs and most prestigious festivals. Moss
played on Carter’s album Whatever Happened To Love
and appeared with her on numerous television programs.
(He is featured in a Carter performance from the Montreal
Jazz Festival currently being shown on the Ovation cable arts
channel.) The group even played at the White House, as part
of a tribute to Lionel Hampton. Moss was living his dream
and he was on top of the world.
And then the wheels came off. It started out small--a
couple of missed notes here and there. But it got worse, whatever
it was. It was as if his talented, highly trained hands had
turned against him. Two fingers on Moss’ right hand
had suddenly refused to cooperate. Moss would intend to play
one note, but those fingers would play another. All the other
fingers worked fine, but these two were out of his control.
His brain sent one signal, those fingers received another.
Moss was baffled and took his problem to Carter, who fired
him. If Moss had not yet learned how difficult the music business
could be, he certainly learned it that day. And things got
worse from there, as Moss made the rounds looking for an answer
to his problem. He tried biofeedback, acupuncture, chiropractors
and more, but nothing helped.
He finally received a correct diagnosis: focal distonia, a
little understood repetitive-stress ailment. The condition
is an equal opportunity career-wrecker that has afflicted
such well-known musicians as classical pianists Leon Fleischer
and Gary Graffman, bluegrass banjo picker Tom Adams and folk
singer and guitarist Utah Phillips. It’s not known what
causes it and there is no cure.
A deeply religious man, Moss took the diagnosis hard. “I
felt God was punishing me for something,” he recalled.
“I got a day job and stayed away from music. I didn’t
play jazz and wouldn’t even listen to it.”
Moss eventually found his way back to music and the piano.
He had to relearn how to play with his right hand and how
to adapt. “Over a period of years, I was able to rebuild
my style,” he says. “For a while it was a fight,
but I can now play anything I used to play and it sounds like
me.”
Moss moved back to Dayton in 1992 and the pieces of his life
have gradually fallen into place. He’s again performing,
composing and arranging. Moss is also an award-winning religion
writer for the Dayton Daily News and a contributing
correspondent for Down Beat, the Kansas City
Gazette and BET Weekend Magazine. Moss is an
adjunct professor of music at the University of Dayton, as
well as the artistic director for the Dayton Art Institute’s
“Just Jazz” concert series and the long running,
annual “Women in Jazz Festival” in downtown Dayton.
For tonight’s “Jazz Summit,” Moss has invited
three old friends and musical associates--Gary Bartz,
Lewis Nash and Jim Anderson--to join him for a one-time-only
jazz concert that should be quite memorable.
Alto saxophonist Gary Bartz was hailed as
a major new talent when he exploded on the jazz scene in the
middle 1960s. The Baltimore native, who studied at Juilliard
and the Peabody Conservatory, first gained a national reputation
playing with the Max Roach–Abbey Lincoln group. He then
worked with Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers and in the
bands of McCoy Tyner and Blue Mitchell. By 1970, Bartz was
working with Miles Davis, and was prominently featured on
Davis’ milestone album Live: Evil, a controversial
record that helped launch the “jazz fusion” movement
of the 1970s. For several years starting in the early 1970s,
Bartz led his own highly innovative band, the politically
charged Ntu Troop. Critic Gary Giddins has described Bartz’
playing as “brainy and flamboyant [with] a gritty, swinging
lucidity that could make you soar.”
Bartz
has recorded prolifically throughout his career, both as a
sideman for such musicians as Kenny Burrell, Roy Hargrove
and Woody Shaw and as a leader. He recorded for Milestone
and Prestige early in his career; since the late 1980s, Bartz
has made several fine albums for such specialist labels as
SteepleChase, Mapleshade and Candid. His masterpiece is the
1974 double-album I’ve Known Rivers and Other Bodies,
recorded live at the Montreux Jazz Festival. In addition to
leading his own bands, he joins the classic postbop quartet
Sphere semi-regularly (they performed here on the CITYFOLK
Jazz Series in the fall of 1998), replacing founding member,
the late tenor saxist Charlie Rouse.
Lewis Nash is the drummer of choice for jazz
legends, the music’s young lions and best-selling pop
acts. A native of Phoenix, Nash moved to New York in 1981
and worked with Betty Carter for almost four years. He followed
that experience with stints in the bands of bassist Ron Carter,
saxophonists Branford Marsalis and Sonny Rollins and the Don
Pullen-George Adams Quartet. Nash spent the 1990s as a member
of the Tommy Flanagan Trio, appearing on seven recordings
by the renowned pianist.
Nash has played on more than 300 albums by a diverse group
of musicians that includes Dizzy Gillespie, Oscar Peterson,
Joe Lovano, Diana Krall, Branford Marsalis, Bette Midler and
Natalie Cole. Nash has one album as a leader, Rhythm is
My Business. He has also toured and recorded with the
Newport Festival All-Stars, Carnegie Hall Jazz Band and the
Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra. Nash is on the jazz studies
faculty at The Juilliard School in New York.
Bassist Jim Anderson has been a vital part
of the Cincinnati jazz scene for over thirty- five years.
Co-founder of one of the Queen City’s most durable and
creative bands, the Cohesion Jazz Ensemble, he has been active
in a variety of roles: performer, composer, teacher and bandleader.
He has taught in the Jazz Studies Program at the College Conservatory
of Music at the University of Cincinnati. Along with being
showcased with leading nationally-known musicians in the Cincinnati-Dayton
area, he has been visible on the recordings of some our region’s
finest musicians, including singer Bill Caffie’s 2002
record “Leavin’ This Old Town” and drummer
Art Gore’s “Art Work”, which also features
Gary Bartz.
Since returning to Dayton, Khalid Moss has kept busy with
a number of projects. One of those endeavors is Standard Time,
a southwestern Ohio jazz group that features trumpeter Michael
Wade. Moss co-founded the band, which recorded several of
his tunes on its CD Be Truthful. Moss can also be
heard on the album J-Curve Cincinnati Jazz Collection,
Vol. II, as well as on recordings by Betty Carter, Richard
“Groove” Holmes, Milt Jackson, Gary Bartz and
Pharoah Sanders.
Esteemed jazz critic and historian Leonard Feather once called
Moss’ music “rather amazing,” writing “I
have never heard Khalid Moss play an unmusical note. He seems
to have an innate sense of form, structure, time and melodic
integrity. He is definitely a talent deserving of much wider
recognition.”
That’s as true today as when Feather
wrote it. Whether that wider recognition comes or not, Khalid
Moss is happy and finally at peace. He went to New York and
found success and acclaim. For fulfillment, he had to come
home.
April
10, 2004 -- The
Battlefield Band
Thirty-five years ago, four young Scottish musicians sat around
a Glasgow table, drinking beers and talking about, what else,
music. As the discussion and pints flowed into the night,
the young men did what young musicians do in such a situation--they
decided to form a band. In a time-honored tradition, the four
chose to name their new band after their hometown, Battlefield,
a Glasgow suburb.
That first version of the Battlefield Band
included Alan Reid and Brian McNeill, both of whom would be
mainstays of the group in the first few years. The band, which
practiced for a year before landing its first pub gig, did
not play traditional Scottish music at the time, but instead
a mélange of acoustic music from a variety of sources.
It wasn’t until the band played an early gig in England--where
the audience expected Scottish musicians to play Scottish
music--that the members decided to focus on traditional
music.
There were a few vocal groups in Scotland performing traditional
material, but instrumental music was largely unexplored territory.
Inspired by the experimental folk-based music being played
by such Irish bands as Planxty and the Bothy Band, the Battlefield
Band decided to apply the same approach to the music of Scotland.
From the start, the band emphasized a unique fusion of old
and new--traditional tunes and songs alongside new material
written by the band members; and traditional instruments such
as the flute, bagpipes, fiddle and cittern mixing with instruments
that were decidedly more modern: guitar, synthesizer and bass
guitar. The band began recording in 1976, though “began
recording” might be a bit of an understatement.
As Alan Reid puts it, “We went recording crazy. We did
four albums in twenty-three months.” The first album,
featuring the trio of Reid, McNeill and Ricky Starr, was Battlefield
Band: Scottish Folk, released in 1976. Starr was soon
replaced by bouzouki player Jamie McMenamy and whistle player
John Gahagan. That quartet then recorded two albums for two
different labels in two different countries, both of them
released as The Battlefield Band. The album on Escalibur
is especially significant, as that was the first Battlefield
album to showcase Scotland’s national instrument, the
bagpipes.
Oddly enough, the addition of the pipes met with some resistance,
as did, more predictably, Reid’s growing fascination
with electronic keyboards. “When I first used synthesizer,”
says Reid, “some in Scotland didn’t like the idea
of it. But for every one of those who muttered behind my back,
10 or 15 people would say, ‘This is amazing.’
Bagpipes in a Celtic band were not known at that time either.
We weren’t the first to use bagpipes, but the first
to record with them. Since 1979 we’ve basically had
the same sound. Having all this heavy artillery made us feel
like a heavy metal band. I always feel musicians should use
what is available, whether it’s a sheep’s belly
or a synthesizer.”
Gahagan was replaced in 1977 by Pat Kilbride, who stuck around
just long enough to be featured prominently on the band’s
fourth album, At The Front, widely recognized today
as a modern Celtic masterpiece. About this time, the band
members started writing songs and tunes; this original material
now constitutes a sizable part of the band’s repertoire.
The Battlefield Band consolidated its strengths during the
remainder of the 1970s and throughout the 1980s, creating
a signature band sound built around what Reid calls the “heavy
artillery,” the Highland pipes and Reid’s synthesizer.
Reid had started out playing pedal organs in the band, but
they were fragile and not tremendously portable. As soon as
the electronic synthesizer became affordable enough and practical
enough to use on the road, Reid embraced the synthesizer and
has played one since.
By the 1980s, the Battlefield Band was recognized as one of
the leading Celtic bands, and probably the most important
one when it came to exploring the Scottish musical heritage.
As Billboard explained, “What the internationally
renowned Irish band, the Chieftains, has done for traditional
Irish music, Battlefield Band is doing for the music of Scotland.”
The Edinburgh Evening News hails the band as “a
national treasure [that] exemplifies the ongoing nature of
Scottish musical tradition.”
Eschewing the crossover strategy and high-profile collaborations
that have worked so well for the Chieftains, the Battlefield
Band has followed a different path--one Mojo
characterizes as “no tricks, no gimmicks, just very
fine music.” The most remarkable aspect of the band’s
success is its longevity.
Alan Reid is the only original member still with the band,
and the Battlefield Band can be seen in part as a monument
to Reid’s tenacity and enduring musical vision. His
genius has been in seamlessly fitting new members into the
band’s sound while simultaneously subtly changing that
sound to reflect the unique talents of the new members.
The current band is comprised of Alan Reid
(keyboards, guitar and vocals), Pat Kilbride
(guitar, cittern and vocals), Alasdair White
(fiddle, whistle, banjo, bouzouki, Highland pipes, small pipes
and bodhran) and Mike Katz (Highland pipes,
small pipes, whistles and bass guitar). The honor roll of
those who have previously served in the Battlefield Band includes
such outstanding musicians and singers as John McCusker, Ged
Foley, Alistair Russell, Iain MacDonald and Davy Steele, who
died in 2001.
This is the second hitch in the Battlefield Band for Kilbride,
the band’s first and only Irish member. Kilbride rejoined
the band in 2002 after a twenty-some-year hiatus, during which
he performed as a solo act and worked with the New York-based
Kips Bay Ceili Band. Piper Mike Katz, a veteran of the Scottish
group Ceolbeg, joined the Battlefield Band in 1997. Don’t
be misled by his non-Gaelic surname. Katz has deep family
roots in County Cuyahoga, an industrial region in the far
northwestern corner of, well, Ohio. The band’s youngest
member is teenaged multi-instrumentalist Alasdair White from
the island of Lewis, one of the Gaelic-speaking Outer Hebrides.
Touring under the motto “Forward With Scotland’s
Past,” the Battlefield Band has performed all over the
world, including appearances in Germany, Hong Kong, Australia,
New Zealand, Italy, Austria, Switzerland, the Netherlands,
Syria, Jordan, India, Egypt, Canada, the U.K. and the U.S.
The band has recorded extensively as well. Not counting solo
projects or compilations, the band’s discography now
includes more than twenty albums. The most recent is Out
for the Night, released in January.
Despite the personnel changes, the sound of the Battlefield
Band has been amazingly consistent. “Every time you
have a change,” says Reid, “hopefully it brings
something fresh. From a musical point of view it is fresh,
it’s different, and it keeps you on your toes. It’s
a lot of hard work…but you do get a lot of energy.”
That’s good, because the Battlefield Band burns a lot
of energy in a typical performance. Reid and Kilbride do most
of the lead singing, on a collection of songs ranging from
ancient to newly written. Several of the band’s original
songs have become modern classics, so they’ll be sprinkled
throughout a show. White and Katz will tear through a couple
of blistering fiddle-bagpipe duets. There will be several
exceptionally well-crafted sets of tunes in which all four
instrumentalists display their considerable chops on dance
tunes, reels, old-fashioned waltzes, airs and more.
True to the Battlefield way, this version of the band reflects
the individual strengths of the four members. The band is
both more guitar-oriented and Irish-influenced than past groupings,
logical in that Kilbride is Irish and a magnificent guitarist.
White’s fiddling also has a bit more of an Irish feel
than that of his predecessors. Again, credit geography--White’s
homefolks in the western islands of Scotland have much in
common with the Gaelic-speaking Irish.
Unlike, say, the Rolling Stones, the Battlefield Band shows
little signs of its three and a half decades as a band. The
group puts on a great show--it won “Best Live Act”
at the 2003 Scots Traditional Music Awards--and, if the
smiles on the band members’ faces are any kind of indication,
the guys have a great time on stage. Perhaps that helps to
explain the band’s extraordinary longevity.
After thirty-five years at the helm of the Battlefield Band,
arguably the most important Scottish band of the Celtic folk
revival, Alan Reid probably has bad habits older than his
fiddling bandmate Alasdair White. Reid and the band have had
an up-and-down journey. The band has come close to packing
it in on a few occasions and Reid must have wondered at times
if it was all worth it. Or maybe he didn’t.
Alasdair White, with the exuberance of youth, was going on
one day about life in the Battlefield Band. He was excited
by it all--the concerts, the traveling, the albums, the
sound-checks and everything else. It was all good and it was
all one hell of a lot of fun.
“That’s the danger, Alasdair,” Reid sagely
cautioned the young string wizard. “Once you’ve
done this, you can never go work in a bank.”
March 19, 2004 -- Ray Vega Sextet
Tonight's concert featuring trumpeter Ray Vega and
his Sextet concludes an extensive, three-week residency
involving students of all ages from throughout the Miami Valley
region. Over the past five days, all of the members of his
group have joined him at our schools. A story that has been
told to students more than once ofver the past three weeks
involves Ray's introduction to the trumpet. He had wanted
to play the alto saxophone. But that day in the junior high
school band room, when it was time for the students to choose
an instrument to study and play in the band, there weren’t
enough saxophones to go around. His choice was trumpet or
trombone. Ray really wanted to play the saxophone, but kids
at his South Bronx school learned to make do with what was
available. He chose the trumpet.
Things started to click for Vega trumpet-wise when his mother
gave him a Freddie Hubbard album in 1976. The teenager consumed
the works of the popular trumpeter (especially Hubbard’s
albums High Energy and The Body and The Soul)
and he was on his way.
Ray’s parents were from Puerto Rico but they had moved
to the South Bronx, where he was born and raised. Vega grew
up immersed in two vital, exciting New York music scenes,
jazz and salsa. The early lack of saxophone aside, Vega actually
received a first-rate musical education within the New York
City public school system, with training in theory, improvisation,
harmony, and on his instrument. He attended the renowned High
School of Music and Arts in New York and, after graduation,
continued his studies at Long Island University on a music
scholarship.
Vega first made a name for himself playing around New York
in the salsa and Latin jazz bands of such greats as Ray Barretto,
Mongo Santamaria, Tito Nieves, Mario Bauza, Luis “Perico”
Ortiz and Johnny Pacheco. He reached the pinnacle when he
joined the band of legendary percussionist Tito Puente, universally
revered as “the King of Latin Jazz.” As the lead
trumpeter in Puente’s Latin Jazz Orchestra for the last
six years of Puente’s life, Vega toured and recorded
extensively; he can be heard on Puente’s Grammy-winning
album Mambo Birdland, among many others.
At the same time he was playing with the greats of Latin music
in New York , Vega was establishing himself as a creative,
imaginative player within the mainstream jazz world. Vega
has been a sideman on numerous jazz sessions, played alongside
Dizzy Gillespie, played on Joe Henderson’s Grammy-winning
album The Joe Henderson Big Band and worked with
fellow trumpeter Nicholas Payton on Payton’s Louis Armstrong
Centennial Celebration tour and recording. He also started
his own band, gradually developing his sound at a weekly club
gig.
Vega views it as something of a personal mission to see that
“Latin jazz” honors both halves of its name. To
his ears, too much of the music is pretty good on the Latin
side, but not so good on the jazz half. “We have to
respect both ends of the equation,” he says. “When
I consider Latin jazz, I must pay my respect to the Latin
side of the music, rhythmically speaking. But the word ‘jazz’
carries a lot of weight, because there are so many incredible
masters of this American music. So when I think of Latin jazz,
I think of connecting the two genres--and being creative about
it.
“My thing is maneuvering around the Latin rhythms, but
also being well-schooled in the language of Charlie Parker,
Bud Powell, and other masters. I’m trying to deliver
a combination of both things. It’s a jazz aesthetic
with a Latin thing under it.”
Vega first recorded as a leader in the mid-1990s on Ray
Vega, released by Concord Picante. The album garnered
good reviews and radio airplay and started a Ray Vega buzz
outside the greater New York area. Cadence called
Vega “an accomplished and graceful bop-oriented trumpeter,”
while numerous other critics also praised Vega’s writing
and arranging skills. Allaboutjazz.com heard in Vega’s
playing “the crisp intelligent delivery of Freddie Hubbard,
the passionate fortitude of Kenny Dorham, the clean precision
of Woody Shaw, and the romantic depth of Chet Baker and Art
Farmer.”
Vega’s second album, also on Concord Picante, is Boperation,
a wide-ranging homage to a dozen great jazz trumpeters--from
Fats Navarro to Clifford Brown to Miles Davis to Donald Byrd
to, yes, Freddie Hubbard. “Hub-Tones,” the opening
cut on Boperation, is a brilliantly played tribute
to Hubbard in which Vega pays a youngster’s debt to
his first mentor. The Boston Globe was among the
many publications that found the album quite satisfying: “Whether
on trumpet or flugelhorn, which he plays with equal dexterity,
[Vega] featured a sound that is bolder than that of many jazz
horns, yet avoided the insistent upper-register flights that
are the norm among Latin players.”
His third album was Pa’lante. It was Vega’s
debut on a new record label, Palmetto, as well as his first
recording to feature the Ray Vega Latin Jazz Sextet:Bobby
Porcelli (alto saxophone), Igor Atalita (piano), Boris Kozlov
(bass),Willie Martinez (drums, timbales) and Wilson “Chembo”
Corniel (congas). The outstanding album earned the ultimate
compliment from La Prensa, “Ray Vega is
Latin Jazz.”
The weekly club gigs have allowed Vega to keep a working group
together, something of a rarity these days. The Ray Vega Latin
Jazz Sextet has performed across the U.S.; at major jazz festivals
in this country as well as in Switzerland and Puerto Rico;
in Spain and the British Virgin Islands; at the U.S. Open
in 2002; on two recent tours of Europe; and at three concerts
in Beirut , Lebanon, sponsored by the American Embassy.
With his fiery and original fusion of Latin rhythms and jazz
repertoire and technique, Vega has emerged as a leader of
a new generation of Latin jazz players, a generation that
is more broadly, well, Latin. “For a very long time,”
says Vega, “Latin jazz was either based on Cuban music
or Brazilian music. There is a new wave of artists from Central
and South America and the Caribbean--Puerto Rico and the Dominican
Republic--bringing new rhythmical elements of their music
to Latin jazz.”
Vega’s most recent recording, Squeeze, Squeeze,
was released in January. The album introduced two new members
of the Sextet: bassist Gregg August and drummer Adam Weber.
Vega describes the sound on the new album as “Latin
bop,” and critics are already lining up to praise this
album as the best and most assured of Vega’s career.
According to allaboutjazz.com, “Trumpeter Ray
Vega is a triumphant example of a musician liberated rather
than straightjacketed by his Latin jazz expertise...The title
tune, one of four original compositions by Vega, is a tour
de force of various Latin dance styles weaving in and
out of a funky bop theme. It evokes a street carnival atmosphere,
a spontaneous joy that permeates this adventuresome session.”
Like a surprising number of today’s major jazz players,
Ray Vega is a committed and accomplished educator. Vega is
an extremely knowledgeable student of the music on “both
ends of the Latin jazz equation,” and he shares his
knowledge in a variety of ways. He is currently a professor
at the music conservatory of the State University of New York,
Purchase (where he joins, by the way, a pretty hip faculty
that includes musicians Jon Faddis, John Abercrombie, Jim
Pugh and Jim Potondi). Besides offering instruction on the
trumpet and flugelhorn, Vega coaches a small student ensemble
and conducts the Purchase Latin Jazz Orchestra.
Ray Vega told a journalist a couple of years ago that his
general plan of action was pretty simple: “Taking my
life and music forward and always being aware of the masters
that paved the way.” That’s an approach we all
could live by, as well as a solid foundation for an educational
philosophy that’s worth teaching to students.
Vega never did get to play the alto sax, but the trumpet has
worked out pretty well for him. He’s a respected musician,
he’s making a living playing music, he’s passing
on his love and knowledge of music to the next generation
and he’s raising his family. “I’m the happiest
man in the world right now,” says Ray Vega. “As
far as I’m concerned, I’m the only trumpet player
in New York City that’s leading his own Latin jazz group--aggressively--and
pursuing nothing but that. And I’m having a great time.”
For more information: www.hometown.aol.com/latinbop/
March 13, 2004
-- Cathie Ryan
Singer Cathie
Ryan
was born in Detroit,the daughter of Irish immigrants. Despite being a natural
talent who took to singing as a child the way a fish takes
to swimming, Ryan never intended to be a professional singer.
Not really. It just sort of happened.
It’s worked out pretty
well, though. After less than a decade as a solo artist,
Cathie Ryan has been called the “Irish female vocalist
of the decade” (Irish American News)
and “one
of the leading voices in Celtic music” (Los
Angeles Times). To a critic in Pittsburgh,
she’s “the living embodiment of deep Irish
folk roots”; The Irish Echo sees her as “a long-time jewel in the Irish music
crown.” The ultimate accolade may be that Irish
America Magazine recently named her
one of the “Top 100 Irish Americans.”
Though
geographically distant, Ireland
was a living presence in the Ryan home as Cathie was growing
up in Detroit.
The thrill of the new was always tempered by what had been
left behind. “It was a sad time for them,” Ryan
has said, “but also exciting to be starting a new
life. My father got a job with General Motors, where he
worked
for
thirty years, but there was always a missing piece, always
longing for back home. That longing colors my music.”
The
Ryan family spent much of its time at the local Gaelic
League. Cathie’s
father had a fine tenor voice and his singing was quite
popular at the League. In that supportive almost-family
environment,
Cathie started singing in public well before she started
school.
She sang at the League and at Irish-American Club dances
and was introduced to many styles of traditional Irish
music at
a tender age.
Those lessons
were augmented and expanded on frequent trips to Ireland to
visit her grandparents, who had a huge impact upon Ryan’s
musical development as a singer and songwriter. Her paternal
grandmother, Catherine Ryan, was a singer and fiddler,
and
her maternal grandfather, Patrick Rice, was a skilled storyteller
who instilled in the young girl a love for Irish history
and
mythology.
Grown up and married, Ryan
moved to New York
where she met singer Joe Heany. An immigrant himself from County Galway,
Heany was widely regarded as one of the best singers in
the
world when it came to sean nos, the traditional
unaccompanied style of Irish singing. Sean nos means “old style” in Gaelic and the a
cappella singing in Gaelic certainly sounds old, with
its long, involved melodies and highly ornamented vocals.
"Sean nos is an art that
conceals its artfulness,” says Ryan.
“You sit in a chair and sing.” The style is definitely
not for every taste, but for the true believers among us,
there’s nothing better. An American equivalent might
be the a cappella ballad singing of such
mountain singers as Ola Belle Reed, Hazel Dickens or Ralph
Stanley.
Ryan studied
with Heany and learned much about the Irish soul and traditional
singing from the master. “I appreciated every minute
I spent with Joe,” she says, “singing and
talking about songs. He brought me further into the art
of sean
nos, but mostly he gave me great encouragement to sing.
After spending time with him, I believed I could and should
sing.”
Blessed
with a gorgeous mezzo-soprano voice, Ryan began singing
around New York. She
was singing at a party in 1987 when flute player Joanie
Madden,
the leader of the renowned group Cherish the Ladies, asked
Ryan if she might be interested in joining the group as
its
lead singer. (In sports terms, that would be like playing
basketball in your driveway and Shaquille O’Neal
stopping his car to ask if you’d like to be the
starting point guard for the Los Angeles Lakers.)
Ryan was interested,
and she joined the all-woman band that would become one of
the most popular Irish music groups in America.
As the lead singer of Cherish the Ladies--which also included
at the time Winifred Horan, Mary Coogan and Maureen Doherty
Macken, among others)--Ryan toured and performed with the
group for seven years. She was prominently featured on two
of the group’s albums, The Back Door
and Out and About (both on Green Linnet).
The albums beautifully showcased Ryan’s singing on
material ranging from traditional sean nos to
her own original songs. “The Back Door,” her
poignant song about Irish immigration, has already attained
the status
of a standard in modern Irish folk music.
By 1995, Ryan felt ready to
test the waters as a solo act and left Cherish the Ladies. “It
was a tough thing to strike out on my own,”
she says, “but it has been the best thing for me
as a singer, as a writer and a person. I am free now to
express
my own music. It’s been a very creative and fulfilling
time.”
Ryan has
matured into an intelligent and insightful songwriter,
which she
feels
has to do with her heritage. “The Irish soul is always
a little tortured,” she explains, “and that’s
where good writing comes from--when you’re not
sure of yourself and you’re always questioning.
Irish music is full of real human feelings and longing.
There
is a magnetic
sadness to songs about losing things important.”
This is
especially true within the Irish-American musical tradition,
which is,
almost by definition, about loss, dislocation and separation.
As a songwriter, Ryan fits squarely within this tradition
with songs like “Somewhere Along
the Road,” “The Back Door” and “Rathlin
Island (1847).” The
latter song (on her Somewhere Along the Road
album) was inspired by a visit to the Irish island that served
as a jumping off point for thousands of immigrants sailing
to North America.
On the island,
Ryan saw the “writing stone” (Clogh
na Screeve), a mute reminder of the poor, starving
people who passed by on their way to new lives. Before
they boarded
the ships, many people carved their initials on the rock,
knowing in all likelihood they would never see Ireland again.
Of that visit, Ryan says, “Seeing ‘the
writing stone,’ I was struck not only by the heartache
these people must have felt, but also by their strong conviction
that ‘we will survive.’”
Ryan says
that when Joe Heany sang, “Ireland just
came out of his voice.” The same could be said
of Cathie Ryan. But if you listen closely to her singing,
there’s more than just Ireland in
her voice, there’s America.
Growing up in Detroit,
many of her friends were from southern families who listened
to and played country, bluegrass and mountain music. Young
Cathie paid attention when those records were playing--check
out her cover of Ola Belle Reed’s “High on a
Mountain” on Somewhere Along the Road.
She was also deeply influenced
by the Motown music that was an inescapable part of living
in Detroit.
Motown soul colors her songwriting and singing as well
as her playing.
When she gets a certain rhythmic groove going on the bodhrán,
the skin-covered Irish drum she plays in concert, you can
almost hear the echoes of the great Motown drummers Benny
Benjamin, Pistol Allen and Uriel Jones.
Since leaving Cherish the
Ladies and launching her solo career, Ryan has recorded three
critically acclaimed albums, all for the Shanachie label:
Cathie Ryan (1997), The Music
of What Happens (1998) and Somewhere Along
the Road (2001). She has also been featured on more
than thirty compilations of Celtic music.
Ryan and her
band have toured extensively throughout the U.S., Canada
and the British Isles, performing
at venues ranging from tiny folk clubs to huge music festivals.
She has performed numerous times on public and commercial
television in the U.S.
and also has many successful appearances to her credit on
the nationally aired public radio programs Mountain
Stage, Thistle and Shamrock and The World.
In the U.K., Ryan has performed to enthusiastic acclaim on both BBC
Radio 2 and BBC Scotland.
Between her singing and
her songwriting, her albums and her concert performances,
Cathie Ryan has established herself as one of the brightest
lights in the modern Celtic music movement. She straddles
cultures deftly--appropriate for the daughter of immigrants--making
music that honors both her heritage and her present. This
is a key part of her appeal, as a critic for The
Boston Globe astutely noted: “Cathie Ryan builds
a beautiful bridge between Irish music and the contemporary
songwriter…She is a thrilling traditional vocalist,
but her honey-pure soprano is equally at home on probing
original ballads about a woman’s place in the modern
world…Her singing is simply sublime.”
Cathie
Ryan's singing and distinctive percussion work on the bodhrán is
joined tonight by Sara
Milonovich on fiddle and keyboards and Greg
Anderson on guitar and bouzouki. Ryan enjoys performing
and it shows in her compelling and captivating live concerts. “There
is nothing like a live show,” she enthuses,
“being with an audience, sharing the music. That
is the best part of being a singer.”
For more information, visit www.cathieryan.com
February
13, 2004 -- Martin Hayes & Dennis Cahill
Seeing fiddler
Martin Hayes and guitarist Dennis Cahill in concert is
a singular experience. There they sit, just the two
of them,
each hunched over in concentration. Most tunes (medleys
of tunes, actually) start out slow and quiet, as if
the
two were playing across a late-night kitchen table. The
tunes twist and turn, almost imperceptibly picking
up speed
and intensity. A few minutes into the medley, it hits
you -- this is some of the most moving and powerful
music you've
ever heard. The tune, by now wild and fast, ends, and
the audience explodes, cheering, roaring approval,
not quite
believing there are only two musicians on stage.
The
musical partnership of Martin Hayes and Dennis Cahill
is one of the most potent in modern memory. The two
began
playing together in Chicago in the early 1980s, first
in an eclectic electric band called Midnight Court,
eventually
in a more traditionally oriented acoustic duet. The duo
clicked from the start, and word spread quickly of
their
marvelous music and near-telepathic interplay.
"The duo
skips the flash of more familiar Celtic music," wrote
a reviewer in The New York
Times, "in favor of a sparser, more intuitive approach.
Stripping old jigs and reels to their essence, leaving
space
between the notes for harmonics and whispered blues
notes...the two communed as if they hardly realized
anyone was listening."
Ceolas noted the tightness of the duet: "Dennis
Cahill was superb on guitar, and the two were so in
sync that it
felt like one person playing two instruments, so much
did they perform as a unit."
Martin Hayes
was born in County Clare, Ireland, the son of a celebrated
fiddler, P.J.
Hayes. Martin was surrounded by music in his youth and grew up
playing in his father's popular band, the Tulla Ceili
Band. Traditional Irish music was in Martin's blood, but his friends
and school mates found the music old-fashioned, boring,
square. That led Hayes to an early artistic decision that
sealed his future.
"As long as
I can remember, the music was there," he says. "I
could sing the reels the way other kids could hum a
Beatles tune. Even before
I could
play I had all these tunes in my head. There was a
choice.
It was either pursue this unhip, uncool path of Irish
music or reject it and go with your peers who regarded
it as
something
very odd. What happened was I rejected the people who
rejected the music. I just couldn't understand why
they didn't want
to hear it."
So Martin
Hayes made his choice. It was the right one. His fiddling,
rooted in the stately
and lyrical traditional style of East Clare, quickly gained
him attention as one of the finest young musicians
in Ireland. Hayes won the All-Ireland fiddle championships six times
and his fiddling indeed stood out from the pack. Where
others added complexity and ornamentation, Hayes did just the opposite.
As Folk Roots says of his playing, "Martin Hayes
pares Irish music down to its bare soul to examine
its emotional
purity, and then whips us on an entrancing trip of
unexpected leaps and turns."
Halfway around
the world, the Sydney
Morning Herald states it in even simpler terms: "He's
just so much better than anything you've ever seen
before.
He redefines your concept of excellence and reveals
levels of beauty and artistry that previously hadn't
existed in
your frame of reference. That is the only way to describe
the experience of seeing and listening to Martin Hayes.
Once you have seen him, all other Irish fiddle players
become faint shadows."
Hayes gave
in to wanderlust and wound up in Chicago at the beginning
of the 1980s.
He worked at construction sites during the day and played music and
partied at night. Hayes was a musical mercenary, willing
to do any gig that would pay for the next round of partying.
It was a time of, as he says, "abusing the music." Joining
forces with Cahill -- a Chicago native born to parents
from
County Kerry -- in Midnight Court was a step in the
right direction, musically. Still, it wasn't until
Hayes made
a conscious decision to return to his musical roots
that he found fulfillment.
"I got so
sick of playing 'Danny Boy' and 'Black Velvet Band,'" Hayes
recalls, "I decided
to see if I could get away with doing the stuff I wanted
to do...I had no idea if it would sell or anybody would
want to hear it...I was amazed that people actually
wanted to hear it now."
While the
response to his stripped-down back-to-basics music
surprised Hayes, it makes perfect
sense. Much of modern Celtic music -- modern music in general --
values style over substance, flash over depth, image
over reality. Mass audiences are programmed for entertainment
rather than engagement. In such an environment, though,
there is always a fervent counter-audience hungry for the
real thing, those seeking honest music from real people.
Hayes' music connected with this group in a big way.
Hayes recorded
his first album, Martin Hayes ,
in 1993. Recorded with guitar and piano accompaniment, the album presented a
fine selection
of Irish tunes played with skill and soul. For his
second album, Hayes returned to County Clare and recorded Under
the Moon. In addition to his two American sidemen,
Hayes was joined on this album by his father, P. J. Hayes, and
guitarist Steve Cooney.
Everything
finally fell into place when Hayes teamed up with Dennis
Cahill. A sensitive
and inventive guitarist comfortable in many styles, Cahill has
practically redefined the concept of "rhythm guitar" in
this music with his unconventional approach. Cahill's
playing is distinctive and highly refined -- and stone
perfect
for
the music of Martin Hayes. Cahill leaves out as much
as he plays, and he just might be the all-time master
of knowing
what to leave out. Besides working with Hayes, Cahill
has also performed or recorded with such acclaimed
fiddlers as Kevin Burke, Liz Carroll and Eileen Ivers.
Martin
Hayes and Dennis Cahill have found beauty in simplicity. "We
go to the core of the music and the tunes," explains
Hayes. "There
is a tendency to embellish and decorate before we know
what we're decorating,
so I always work my way backwards first to see what's
there. It's like a door painted with forty coats of
paint. You
just keep painting it until you wonder what was there
in the first place and strip it down to the wood. It
might
not need painting at all. And if it does, then the
painting must be a very delicate operation."
One has
to go back in time several decades to find a violin-guitar
duo of such power,
musicality, grace and originality. It's a short list. There's Stephane
Grappelli and Django Reinhardt, European jazzers who
tore it up in the 1930s and 1940s, and their American contemporaries,
Joe Venuti and Eddie Lang. After that, there's...who?
The point here is not so much to put Martin Hayes and Dennis
Cahill on a pedestal but more to place their collaboration
in a historical context to better illustrate the rarity
of their gift.
That gift
is based on a shared musical vision -- a desire to
explore the space and
feelings inside the music. To do that, they have gone back to the
beginning of the Irish sound and started fresh. "Between
them," wrote The Independent, "they have deconstructed
the material to create a vast spacious soundscape,
aching with the celebration of centuries, soaring
with the slow-burning
dynamics of modern classicists."
"Irish music
is the expression of the universal muse," Hayes has
written. "What
gives it its unique character is that this muse has
been expressed
through our unique cultural milieu and ethos...Tradition
in music is a process in motion that is undergoing
constant change and refinement. It is a reflection
of people's
lives...The music is many things. It is dance music.
It is music of
community and sharing. It is music to listen to, music
to
remember by, and to express through."
To the chagrin
of their fans Martin Hayes and Dennis Cahill have
not recorded nearly
as much as their talents warrant. The duo has recorded only
two albums, Live in Seattle and The Lonesome
Touch.
Hayes and Cahill are currently at work on their third
album,
which represents a fairly major stylistic departure
for the two as their fiddle and guitar are augmented
by such
instruments as viola, mandolin and acoustic bass guitar.
Both men are excited about taking their music in a
new direction.
"Tradition is not a static thing,"
declares Hayes, who has thought and written about this subject
quite a bit. "There's no point in history where people
stopped and said, 'That's it. No more evolution or development.'
Music evolves. It's an art form, a means of expression,
a journey of discovery, and when you take that out of
the equation and require people to simply repeat the
past --
that's when things start to die. The music cannot stand
still. That's a fact."
For more information: www.martinhayes.com
February 7, 2004 -- Les Yeux Noirs
In a world filled with misunderstood
and persecuted peoples and cultures, the Gypsies are
among the most misunderstood. Even their origins are somewhat
shrouded in mystery. Early Europeans thought the Gypsies
were from Egypt, the source of the name that has stuck despite
its inaccuracy. In fact, the Gypsies (or more properly,
the Roma) originated in northern India, but the Roma have
been on the move for so long, their true home is the
road.
The music of the Roma is a record
of their travels. The Roma first left India at the
beginning of the 11th century, moving west into Turkey. It's now thought
the Roma were mercenaries hired to fight Islamic invaders
bent on conquering India. The Roma must have been effective
warriors, as they always seemed to be moving forward.
The Roma (and their music) continued westward, as ordered in
times of war or persecution, as they chose otherwise.
From Turkey, the road went through Greece and Macedonia,
across northern Africa, the Middle
East, Spain, and ultimately into Russia and Eastern Europe
-- such countries as Romania, Hungary, Transylvania,
Bulgaria and Albania. At each step along the way, Roma musicians
interacted with local musicians and incorporated elements
of local musical traditions that suited them. As a result
of those wide-ranging travels, modern Roma musicians
have an extraordinarily broad musical palette at their command,
a sensibility that combines bits and pieces drawn from
dozens of regional and ethnic traditional styles.
Such is the musical heritage
and approach of Les Yeux Noirs, an eclectic six-man
band
based in Paris. The sextet was founded in the early 1990s in Paris
by violin-playing brothers, Eric and Olivier Slabiak.
The Slabiak brothers, born into a musical family of
Jewish
emigres from Poland, started playing violin at a young
age and both received a rigorous classical training.
Their parents hoped the boys would become concert
violinists, and studies and competition
victories by both at the Brussels Royal Conservatory of Music seemed
to herald a bright future on the concert stage. But
then the brothers became obsessed with Gypsy music and the Yiddish
folk music they heard from their grandparents.
The
Judaism of the Slabiak brothers, and their corresponding
interest in Yiddish folklore
and the klezmer bands of Eastern Europe, adds a fascinating
layer of musical, cultural and political context to
the Slabiak's immersion in Gypsy music. Jews and Gypsies would
seem to be worlds apart, and in some respects, the
two groups could hardly be more dissimilar. In one unfortunate regard,
however, the two groups share a similarly depressing
history.
For far too many centuries, Jews
and the Roma have shared an "otherness" that has led
to discrimination, persecution, violence and in the
worst cases,
genocide. No matter the time or the place, these two
groups
have been cultural outsiders at odds with the dominant
majority.
Both groups were targeted by Hitler for extermination
and both suffered terribly during the Holocaust. And
still
it
continues -- anti-Semitism is again on the rise in
Europe, while the collapse of the Soviet Union has
re-exposed
the Roma to ancient hatreds in Eastern Europe.
Given
the above, one might reasonably expect a fusion of
Roma and Jewish music to be suffused
with melancholy, to possess an unbearable sense of sadness
proportionate to the suffering of the two groups across
the centuries. Just don't expect that of Les Yeux Noirs,
a soul-affirming band that celebrates life with a spectacular
verve and gusto, as if each new day is justification enough
to rear back and just let it rip.
"We don't have a message
about the tragic history of the Jewish and Gypsy people," Eric
Slabiak has explained. "To play this music in the
21st century is itself the message. This music survives
like the people.
The character of these people is very intense and dramatic,
and one reason the Gypsy and Jewish people exist today
is
that they never give in to sadness."
So Eric and Olivier
Slabiak set out to try to merge the musical traditions
of their
Jewish heritage with the Gypsy music they had discovered -- and
to try to perform this musical fusion with the energy,
dynamics and power of the rock music they had also recently discovered.
Les Yeux Noirs began its life as an acoustic band playing
mostly traditional material. As the band has grown in sophistication,
original material has entered the group's repertoire
and the band's sound has considerably expanded.
The current edition of Les Yeux
Noirs -- Eric Slabiak (violin); Pascal Rondeau (guitar); Olivier
Slabiak (violin); Gheorghe Ene,
who goes by the name of Ionica (accordion); Franck
Anastasio (electric
bass); and Francois Perchat (cello)
-- includes some members who are Roma by birth,
while others, like the Slabiaks, are Roma by choice.
Rondeau and
Perchat, both born in France, studied classical music
at a young age and later, again like the Slabiaks,
became enchanted
by traditional Yiddish and Gypsy music. Anastasio was
born in Montreuil, the "Gypsy quarter" of Paris, into
a Sicilian family and grew up playing music with Roma
and Russian
musicians.
Ionica, who began playing the accordion at age four,
was born to a family of Romanian Roma.
The unique
stylistic fusion achieved by Les Yeux Noirs is a zesty
and spicy musical goulash
that's hard to describe, though its individual ingredients can
be identified. Most of the group members sing and the
songs' lyrics alternate between French, Russian, Yiddish and Rom.
Those songs range from slow, mournful Yiddish folk
laments to manic violin and guitar rave-ups. There is plenty of
dance music in the mix -- czardas, sirdas, horas, freylekhs,
coceks, and all sorts of others. There is a hearty dash
of what might best be called Baltic blues.
A
final and extremely vital part of the band's sound
is its mastery of Manouche, or
French Gypsy jazz. The patron saint of Manouche is the legendary
jazz guitarist Django Reinhardt, himself a Belgian
Gypsy. Reinhardt's classic recordings from the 1930s and 1940s,
many of which also featured violinist Stephane Grappelli,
are an important touchstone for modern Roma musicians. They
have definitely influenced the members of Les Yeux
Noirs, in many ways -- the band's name, French for "the black eyes," comes
from the title of a Russian Gypsy song made famous
in the 1930s by Reinhardt.
Music critics in France were
the first to shout the praises of Les Yeux Noirs. Le
Nouvel Observateur praised the sextet for "breathing
new life and energy" into its fusion of Gypsy and
klezmer styles. Le Monde called
them "a group of Gypsy musicians
with incredible energy, with roots not only firmly
planted in traditional music, but also a lot of jazz.
Les Yeux
Noirs
will keep you on the edge of your seat."
As the band
began playing outside France and especially after
it began recording, the
international world music press picked up on Les Yeux Noirs. Some commentators
were more astute than others -- the Bangkok Post,
for example, gushed about "the boy band of a lost
era" --
but most of the reviews were knowledgeable and complimentary.
The Philadelphia City Paper wrote that the band's "eclectic
fusion is hypnotic and irresistibly sensual…Their
music ultimately suggests the shared histories of Gypsies
and Jews, bittersweet as the Slabiak
brothers' violins." The San Francisco Chronicle liked
the "rapid-fire picking and swinging sensibility," while
the Los Angeles Times hailed the band as "immensely
entertaining" and "filled with enough high-voltage
drive to trigger exuberant responses from the crowd."
Recordings
by Les Yeux Noirs can be hard to find in these parts,
but they're worth
the effort. The band's discography includes Suites (first released
in 1996 and reissued in 2003); A Band of Gypsies (1999); Balamouk (2002);
and Live (2003).
Balamouk, for those who might be wondering, means "house
of the insane" in Romanian. All of the albums are
entertaining, but Live, according to The
Washington Post, "with 18 tracks drawn from
all their albums and all their styles, is the best
possible introduction to Les Yeux Noirs…What
makes it all work is superb technique, a sure grasp
of each
style and a passion that obviously connects with
the responsive audience."
That connection is no accident. "We came up in a family
where music and traditions were very important," says
Eric Slabiak. "We learned the
tenderness of the music and the humor of the culture.
When we became
teenagers our ears were opened by pop and rock
music. It was very natural for us to make a combination
between our
culture and all the music we love. We find the
same
energy in Gypsy and Yiddish music as in pop, rock
and jazz."
And don't worry about connecting
with a band that sings in languages you don't even
understand. It doesn't matter, as Les Yeux Noirs transcends the limitations
of human communication. "Music is our language,
our passport,"
explains Olivier Slabiak, "and we can pass on the same
vibrations, the same emotions with our own language
and be understood
by everybody in the world. Music is the real Esperanto."
For more information, visit lesyeuxnoirs.net
January 31, 2004 --
Jane Bunnett & Spirits of Havana
Jane Bunnett's
love affair with Cuban music started in 1982 with her
search for a cheap vacation spot.
The acclaimed Canadian saxophonist and her husband, trumpeter
Larry Cramer, were looking to escape the
cold Toronto winter and Cuba was warm, relatively close
and relatively inexpensive.
Before the end of that first vacation, Bunnett had discovered
that Cuba had much more to offer her than nice weather and
low prices.
Bunnett and Cramer
found that, despite the grinding poverty that is so pervasive
on the island,
Cuba
is a country full of music and musicians -- a place where,
in Bunnett's words, "music just seemed to be everywhere."
Bunnett and Cramer played with the local musicians and bands
as much as they could, and the rich traditions of Cuban
music
thoroughly enchanted the couple. The island has figured
prominently in their music since then.
Back in Canada,
Bunnett set about
immersing herself in a study of the many forms and styles
of Cuban music. Bunnett's musical training had started with
classical training on the piano and clarinet as a child,
and, later, she had studied piano and soprano saxophone with jazz
artists Barry Harris and Steve Lacy. She's self-taught
on the flute. Bunnett made her
recording debut in 1989 with an album with pianist Don
Pullen, New York Duets. She followed that with Live
at Sweet Basil , a recording of her quintet performing
live at a club during the Greenwich Village Jazz Festival
in New York.
These two albums earned Bunnett a reputation as a fast-rising
talent with chops and technique to spare.
It was Bunnett's
third album, however,
that first displayed her love of Cuban music and
her impressive grasp of its component styles. Spirits of
Havana, a blend
of jazz and the folkloric Yoruban roots of Cuban
music, was critically acclaimed and won Bunnett her first
Juno Award
(Canada's equivalent to the Grammy). The saxophonist
was forging her own unique Anglo-Afro-Cuban synthesis, and the experiments
on this album led directly to such follow-ups as Jane
Bunnett and The Cuban Piano Masters ; Havana
Flute Summit; Ritmo + Soul ; Alma de
Santiago and,
most recently, Cuban Odyssey.
Since the release
of Spirits of
Havana , Bunnett has led something of a double
existence. She maintains an active presence in
the mainstream jazz
world,
performing at leading festivals and playing and
recording with such top-tier jazz musicians as
saxophonist
Dewey Redman;
pianists Don Pullen, Paul Bley and Stanley Cowell;
bassist Charlie Haden; drummer Billy Hart; and
singers Sheila
Jordan and Jeanne Lee, among others.
At the same
time, Bunnett continues to dig deeper into the
roots of Cuban music. For
Bunnett, jazz and Cuban music are not two different things, but more
like two sides of the same coin. "I see myself
as a jazz musician,"
she says, "but I'm working in this traditional Cuban music.
I'm not working with salsa. I'm not trying to present
music that is dance-oriented for pop audiences. Larry
and I have
always worked with traditional Cuban song-forms and
styles."
Her collaborations
with Cuban musicians over the past twenty years have given
Bunnett
a singular perspective on the music. "I think we've covered a lot of musical
ground in Cuba over the years," she says. "From originally
working with Merceditas Valdes and Grupo Yoruba
Andabo and other folkloric
groups, like Clave y Guaguanco...to working
with Jose Maria Vitier and Frank Emilio, the Cuban
piano masters...to
playing
the son music of Los Naranjos."
Those
various musical streams came together beautifully
on Bunnett's 2002 CD, Cuban
Odyssey.
It's a stunning album -- bold, ambitious
and brilliantly executed.
Inspired by a Cuban visit in 2000 in which
Bunnett and Cramer traveled for the first
time in the
rural parts
of the island, Cuban Odyssey is world
music that honors all of its parts. The CD
was named "Best World Album" at the 2003
Urban Music Awards and "Best Latin Jazz Album" at
the 2003 Jazz Journalists Awards. It is
nominated for a Grammy Award as
the year's "Best Latin Jazz Album"
Bunnett
and Cramer have now made dozens of trips
to Cuba, but the one that
led to the acclaimed CD was special for two reasons. On previous visits, the
couple
had limited their musical activities to
the cities of Havana and Santiago de Cuba. This time, they
went into the countryside
-- to Matanzas, Cienfuegos and Camaguey
-- and
met and played with a new group of bands and musicians.
According to Bunnett,
though, the challenge was the same. "You have to integrate
yourself within another musical context," she
says, "to fit in
and express yourself musically and honestly
within that
idiom. We wanted
to tie a thread through all of our experiences
with the musics of Cuba. I think with
this project it really
happened."
Second, this visit
was documented in the award-winning film Jane Bunnett/Spirits
Of Havana: Cuban Odyssey (which
CITYFOLK screened at Neon Movies on
January 4). The two
musicians were accompanied
on
their travels by a video crew from
the National Film Board of
Canada,
and as Bunnett and Cramer drove around
the island,
the crew captured them in a series
of fascinating musical collaborations
with
a variety of
local musicians as
well
as such groups
as
Los Munequitos de Matanzas, Los Naranjos
and Desandann. The documentary, which
premiered at the Montreal
World Film Festival
in 2000, is now available on DVD.
Bunnett's
multi-cultural music making has
met with widespread critical acclaim. New
Jazz Review praises
her for "blending a panoramic approach
to Cuban folkloric traditions and
the fire of American jazz.
Jane Bunnett
has
carved out a unique place in the
pantheon of current Caribbean music." Allaboutjazz noted
her ability "to
fire up the afterburners to ignite
a program that's sure to satisfy
jazz lovers the world over."
Jane
Bunnett appears tonight at the
Dayton Art Institute with her six-piece
touring band, Spirits of Havana. The award-winning sextet includes Jane
Bunnett (soprano
saxophone, flute), Larry Cramer (trumpet),Elio
Villafranca (piano), Kieran
Overs (bass), Francisco
Mela (drums) and Alberto
Alberto (percussion,
lead vocals).
Keep your eye
on pianist Elio Villafranca. The fiery young
Cuban-born pianist,
a member of the jazz-heavy faculty of the University of the Arts in Philadelphia,
has
already earned comparisons with
such Cuban piano masters as Chucho Valdes and Gonzálo Rubalcaba. Villafranca's
most recent recording, Incantations
(Encantaciones) ,
featuring Jane Bunnett, Pat Martino
and Terrell Stafford, appeared
on many critics' "best of the
year" lists
for 2003.
Since her 1989
debut, Bunnett has recorded extensively,
collaborating
both with American jazz players and Cuban musicians. Her discography includes
the
albums Cuban Odyssey; Spirituals
and Dedications ; Alma
de Santiago; Ritmo
+ Soul; Chamalongo ; Havana
Flute Summit; Jane
Bunnett and The Cuban Piano
Masters ; Rendez-Vous
Brazil Cuba; Double
Time (a duet album with
Paul Bley); The Water is
Wide; Spirits
of Havana; Live at Sweet
Basil;
and New York Duets (a
duet album with Don Pullen).
In
a review of the Cuban Odyssey CD
in Africana,
Willard Jenkins addresses head-on the issue of
a white Canadian woman playing
Afro-Cuban jazz. "Let's
be perfectly clear," writes
Jenkins. "Jane Bunnett is not
a musical colonizer seeking
exotic ethnic trappings to
decorate
her music. Her immersion in
Cuban music has come from the
heart and it has been profound...Bunnett
gently and respectfully
interacts on flute and soprano
sax, digging deep into the
music with an exceptional
grit and surety of tone. One
gets
the overall feeling of a great
sense of selflessness and dignity
in Bunnett's music."
The
Cuban music bandwagon has
been pretty full in the
years since
Ry Cooder and the Buena Vista Social Club put the music back in the spotlight.
But Bunnett
has been investigating the
musical linkages and cultural connections in Afro-Cuban jazz for more than
20 years. She has done
the
work. She has paid her dues.
She has befriended and supported countless Cuban musicians, hosted them on
North American tours
and helped to arrange recording
sessions for them. Official recognition of her many contributions came in 2002,
when the
Smithsonian Institution honored
Jane Bunnett for her lifetime of dedication to the enrichment and diffusion
of Latin music."
It's truly amazing
how travel can broaden one's horizons. Twenty-five
years ago, Jane Bunnett was a talented Canadian saxophone player. Today, she
leads
one of the hottest Afro-Cuban
jazz bands outside of Cuba, with a mantel full of awards and more to come in
the future.
Best of all, she's earned
the respect and trust of the Cuban musicians with whom she's worked -- they
see Jane Bunnett
as a peer, an equal, a
fine musician and a better friend.
Renowned Cuban
saxophonist Paquito D'Rivera is a long-time
supporter and fan of Bunnett's musical efforts. In a recent interview in Jazz
Times,
D'Rivera spoke for many
of his countrymen when he said, "Jane
is brilliant and she's
been paying so much respect to our music. She's
been trying so hard to
play the real thing. What she's doing is valid and
legit. She uses the real ingredients."
For more information: www.janebunnett.com
November 14, 2003 -- Gao Hong
& Chen Tao
When virtuoso musician Gao Hong was a young
girl in China, her mother took her to see a fortune-teller.
This was at the height of Mao Zedong’s Cultural Revolution
and the nation seemed locked in the grip of chaos. Gao’s
father, a landowner and minor government official, had been
taken from the family by the Red Guard, branded a “reactionary”
and sent to a rural commune for what was called “re-education.”
It was an unsettled and frightening time in China and Gao’s
mother wanted some old-fashioned reassurance about her twelve-year-old
daughter’s future.
The elderly fortune-teller studied the young girl and said
Hong would be “a flying dragon, always traveling.”
As a result, she would always have to “make her home
in her heart.” No matter how one feels about such things,
it’s worth noting that the fortune-teller turned out
to be right on both counts.
Gao Hong began her career as a professional musician later
that year. She was a prodigy on the pipa, a four-stringed,
fretted, pear-shaped lute introduced to China during the Han
Dynasty, sometime between 200 B.C. and 200 A.D. A highly intricate
solo style of playing the pipa evolved and the instrument
became the main source of entertainment at banquets and other
official functions of the imperial court.
Gao, whose family lived in the city of Luoyang, began playing
the pipa at age eight, taught at first by her mother. When
she showed an unusual aptitude on the instrument, Gao’s
mother decided that a career as a professional musician might
offer her daughter her best chance at making it safely through
the Cultural Revolution.
To that end, Gao began taking lessons at age ten. Thanks to
natural talent and practicing eight or more hours a day, Gao
made rapid progress on the instrument. At twelve, she left
home and moved 400 miles away to Hebei Province to join a
traveling song-and-dance troupe. She was the youngest member
of the ensemble (her roommates were two women in their mid-20s)
and it was a tough life for a homesick girl, as the provincial
troupe traveled throughout north central China playing in
rural areas wherever an audience could be found. She stuck
it out for three years and grew immensely as a musician.
She was known within the troupe for an exceptionally strong
work ethic. She rose each morning at 3:30 for two hours of
private practice in her building’s furnace room. It
was dank and dirty, but it was the only place she could play
without disturbing anyone. When she would emerge from the
furnace room to join her troupe-mates for breakfast, her face
would invariably be smeared with soot. The older members of
the ensemble, who formed a sort of surrogate family for the
lonely girl, took to calling Gao their “little black
kitten.”
Gao Hong went back to school in 1979. Despite the three-year
gap in her education, Gao passed the entrance examination
and was admitted to Hebei Provincial School for the Arts,
one of the best such schools in China. She studied here for
several years, continuing to perform as much as she could.
In 1984, she won First Prize in the Hebei Professional Young
Music Performers Competition.
Two years later, she entered China’s most prestigious
music school, the Central Conservatory of Music in Beijing.
One of only two pipa players admitted to the Conservatory
that year, Hong studied with Lin Shicheng, the sole living
master of the difficult Pudong style of playing,
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