It can't hurt to try, right?
So while my dinner's settling, after which I can rehearse my horn, let me tell you about me and my bass clarinet. Because I have a couple of free public gigs tomorrow, along Grand Avenue in St. Paul, and I'd like to invite you to check them out. (Yeah, that's right, free: I refuse to offer cash bribes to scare up an audience, so I'm not payin' you a plugged nickel to sit through my squawking!).
Grand Ave. is host to an event called Blooming Day on Saturday, July 31 (tomorrow!). It's like a WAY scaled-down Grand Old Day. The street won't be closed off, and there should be parking available. The attractions are free samples of desserts, and drinks, and flowers; kids' events; store sales; and... oh yeah, music! Get the lowdown at http://www.grandave.com/Blooming_Day.htm.
I'll be playing twice along the avenue:
My mixed clarinet quartet, The Cylindrical Bores, will be performing from 10: - 11:30 a.m., in front of the Red Balloon Bookshop, 891 Grand, between Victoria and Milton. Our mixed-up clarinets consist of two B-flat soprano clarinets, one E-flat alto clarinet, and one B-flat bass clarinet (that's my baby!). We play a variety of jazz and classical tunes, and the occasional movie theme (think Inspector Clouseau). Up tempo, down tempo, and always fun.
Then, from 1:30 - 2:30 p.m., my self-accompanied solo bass clarinet band, Bruce Has the Talking Stick, will perform in front of Kowalski's Market, 1261 Grand, at Syndicate. I play jazz, classic rock, a bit of classical, a show tune or two, accompanied by either A) me on a recorded bass clarinet bass line, or B) a recording of my computer simulating (nicely!) a piano accompaniment. (NO, my accompaniment is NOT a pair of cymbals between my knees, or a bicycle horn in my armpit -- but maybe I'll work up to them someday!) Some classic rock and Leonard Cohen sing-along sheets will be provided.
Why THAT instrument on THOSE tunes, you ask? 'Cuz it's music I love, and an instrument I know how to play, one that burbles along, sweetly and resonantly, in the lower register of a man's voice. The BC is typically a low-register support instrument in a band or orchestra. I've done that, still do, and enjoy it, but I've been wanting to take me and that horn to unexpected places, and work with some of the music I've loved listening to.
My musical bona fides: seven years of recreational bass clarinet, in junior/senior high and college, followed by 27 years of intensive album and CD playing (where I refined (?) my eclectic tastes). Then came five years of on-and off tenor sax lessons and community band work. (Tenor sax seemed much more sympatico with my musical tastes than did bass clarinet.) Then, I decided to try BC again, researched and bought one (using my trusty factotum the World Wide Web), and fell in love.
See, the upper and lower registers of clarinets are a twelfth apart, so the same note an octave up is fingered totally differently. On a sax, the register key is a true octave key, so the fingerings are the same for two octaves. (Never mind the altissimo, for now.) And the upper register of a tenor sax and a bass clarinet, both B-flat instruments, are fingered very nearly identically. So it should have been easy to move from clarinet to sax, never mind the 27-year grand pause.
But, but, but... when I got that BC in the mail, and tried it out, I felt like I'd come home. My fingers and their kinesthetic memories naturally sought out the right notes. And those delicious low tones! The BC's range extends from the bottom of the baritone sax range to the top of the tenor sax range. And I'm having lots of fun nudging my BC repertoire out of traditional band and orchestra tunes and into jazz, and classic rock, and more. I've been playing for two years now, and I just can't stop.
So come on by and check it out tomorrow. Or see me at Leslie Ball's Cabaret in the wee hours of some Sunday morning. Oh, and what the hell is "Bruce Has the Talking Stick" all about? If you'd like some background on that band name, and a brief glimpse into my head, check out my 1/23/04 blog at http://www.musiciansconnected.com/Blog/Low_Reed.aspx?ID=1/23/2004112647AM#1/23/2004112647AM . Enter at your own risk.
Gotta go now. My BC is beckoning!
Friday, July 30, 2004
I'm Sittin' on Top...
OF THE WORLD!
A terrific week at work, and now I'm off early on Friday, so's I can A) talk to (with?) you about the Fringe, and B) rehearse for my bass clarinet gigs tomorrow. (And, OK, C) talk up my bass clarinet gigs, too, he said shamelessly.)
When last we spoke, I promised to tell you about my encounter with Leslie Ball, chanteuse extraordinaire. Now, I first interacted with Leslie at the Southern Theater, one year ago, during the 2003 Fringe Previews at Leslie Ball's Midnight Cabaret at the Southern Theater in Minneapolis. I'll bet many of you know this eclectic, offbeat cabaret far better than I do -- Leslie has been hosting it nearly every weekend for nigh on thirteen years now. I had heard about it, and had been hoping to be able to stay up late enough to take it in sometime or other. But it was the prospect of being able to preview excerpts from local (one week) and out-of-town (the next week) Fringe productions that pushed me into taking the plunge last July.
I found Leslie to be a warm, gracious, casual, friendly host of these cabarets. She warned the newcomers in the audience that, if we were hoping to one day bring our own unpolished, un-juried acts to her Cabaret stage, and were intimidated by the quality of the Fringe previews, that we should bear in mind that these were unusually high-caliber acts (at which the Fringe actors present guffawed loudly). We were then entertained by brief snippets of several shows, which served to get us salivating for the upcoming Fringe immersion, and gave us some ideas on shows we'd like to see in full. This was a terrific service, one that continues this year (more on that later).
It was several months before I returned to a "normal" weekend at Leslie's cabaret. I started going again in late May 2004, with the notion of eventually dipping my own toe in the water and trying out a couple of bass clarinet solos on the stage. I eventually did this, twice in June, and was rewarded with a warm welcome by Leslie, the rest of the staff, and the audience. These visits confirmed my initial impressions of Leslie, andI was happy to be able to talk with her and bask in the glow of her humanity and her optimism. I even heard her sing a little, when she performed on stage one night with Ochen K. Nice voice!
BUT... all that did little to prepare me for the absolutely ecstatic experience I had last Thursday, being washed over and enveloped by her tender, tough, playful, earnest, broken, healed, spiritual voice as she put on a full performance at the Dakota in Minneapolis. Accompanied by local standout musicians Dean McGraw (guitar), Peter Schimke (piano), Anthony Cox (bass) and Kevin Washington (drums), she offered us a local music love-fest that lasted four hours, and left my wife and me floating several feet off the ground as we departed, arms wrapped around each other, marvelling at the experience we had just had. Leslie, THANK YOU for sharing yourself with us. You're a hell of a songwriter, a hell of a participator/oberver/chronicler of this sweet mess we call life, and you have a damn fine group of musicians that you count among your friends!
I took lots of hasty notes in the dark during that wonderful performance, but not too many to be fully in the moment with Leslie and everyone else (including Ochen K, who provided Leslie and us with some sweet, ad hoc(!) accompaniments on acoustic guitar and accordion). As I look over those notes, now, and think back to that evening, and recall some of her lyrics, I feel myself choking up with emotion. Damn it, Leslie, Big Boys Don't Cry! Well, I'm much better off having got shut of that foolish notion.
"I will not whisper,
Will not hide,
Will not keep this thing inside.
But listen up everyone:
I'm not leaving 'til I'm done!"
Leslie, you're beautiful -- from your head, to your heart, to your face, to your voicebox, to your gut and your soul.
And your Cabaret embodies the spirit of the Fringe, which I'm here to testify about. More on that later -- I need to take a breather.
A terrific week at work, and now I'm off early on Friday, so's I can A) talk to (with?) you about the Fringe, and B) rehearse for my bass clarinet gigs tomorrow. (And, OK, C) talk up my bass clarinet gigs, too, he said shamelessly.)
When last we spoke, I promised to tell you about my encounter with Leslie Ball, chanteuse extraordinaire. Now, I first interacted with Leslie at the Southern Theater, one year ago, during the 2003 Fringe Previews at Leslie Ball's Midnight Cabaret at the Southern Theater in Minneapolis. I'll bet many of you know this eclectic, offbeat cabaret far better than I do -- Leslie has been hosting it nearly every weekend for nigh on thirteen years now. I had heard about it, and had been hoping to be able to stay up late enough to take it in sometime or other. But it was the prospect of being able to preview excerpts from local (one week) and out-of-town (the next week) Fringe productions that pushed me into taking the plunge last July.
I found Leslie to be a warm, gracious, casual, friendly host of these cabarets. She warned the newcomers in the audience that, if we were hoping to one day bring our own unpolished, un-juried acts to her Cabaret stage, and were intimidated by the quality of the Fringe previews, that we should bear in mind that these were unusually high-caliber acts (at which the Fringe actors present guffawed loudly). We were then entertained by brief snippets of several shows, which served to get us salivating for the upcoming Fringe immersion, and gave us some ideas on shows we'd like to see in full. This was a terrific service, one that continues this year (more on that later).
It was several months before I returned to a "normal" weekend at Leslie's cabaret. I started going again in late May 2004, with the notion of eventually dipping my own toe in the water and trying out a couple of bass clarinet solos on the stage. I eventually did this, twice in June, and was rewarded with a warm welcome by Leslie, the rest of the staff, and the audience. These visits confirmed my initial impressions of Leslie, andI was happy to be able to talk with her and bask in the glow of her humanity and her optimism. I even heard her sing a little, when she performed on stage one night with Ochen K. Nice voice!
BUT... all that did little to prepare me for the absolutely ecstatic experience I had last Thursday, being washed over and enveloped by her tender, tough, playful, earnest, broken, healed, spiritual voice as she put on a full performance at the Dakota in Minneapolis. Accompanied by local standout musicians Dean McGraw (guitar), Peter Schimke (piano), Anthony Cox (bass) and Kevin Washington (drums), she offered us a local music love-fest that lasted four hours, and left my wife and me floating several feet off the ground as we departed, arms wrapped around each other, marvelling at the experience we had just had. Leslie, THANK YOU for sharing yourself with us. You're a hell of a songwriter, a hell of a participator/oberver/chronicler of this sweet mess we call life, and you have a damn fine group of musicians that you count among your friends!
I took lots of hasty notes in the dark during that wonderful performance, but not too many to be fully in the moment with Leslie and everyone else (including Ochen K, who provided Leslie and us with some sweet, ad hoc(!) accompaniments on acoustic guitar and accordion). As I look over those notes, now, and think back to that evening, and recall some of her lyrics, I feel myself choking up with emotion. Damn it, Leslie, Big Boys Don't Cry! Well, I'm much better off having got shut of that foolish notion.
"I will not whisper,
Will not hide,
Will not keep this thing inside.
But listen up everyone:
I'm not leaving 'til I'm done!"
Leslie, you're beautiful -- from your head, to your heart, to your face, to your voicebox, to your gut and your soul.
And your Cabaret embodies the spirit of the Fringe, which I'm here to testify about. More on that later -- I need to take a breather.
Sunday, July 25, 2004
Rehearsing for the Fringe
While the Fringe performers are getting their acts together in preparation for August, I'm trying to do the same thing as an audience member. I've been attending some pre-Fringe showcases, and it's time to tell you about them.
But first, I want to riff on this thought for a few measures: Even with the comparatively languid tempo of pre-Fringe activities (for audience members, anyway), I have learned that I have to watch my pace, or I might find myself running out of breath. (And being a horn player, that's not a good thing.) I'm a glutton for all kinds of artistic stimuli, and sometimes don't know when to ease off when there are so many goodies on the table in front of me. (Of course, one look at the girlish figure I HAVEN'T been able to keep will tell you that I indulge in multimedia gluttony!)
But, food metaphors aside, I found myself taking in too many artistic events, Fringe and otherwise, in the last few days. And I recall vividly that the opportunity for that is way greater during Fringe week. So, see all you can, but not when you're too worn out to enjoy it!
OK, onward:
My First Fringe Showcase
I went to see the first showcase on July 2 at "Patio Nights at Minnesota Museum of American Art", a new Thursday-Friday evening OUTDOOR venue high above the Mississippi in downtown St. Paul. (Check it out at http://www.mmaa.org/pationights.html.) (I was predisposed to attend this showcase because I had just performed a gig on the Patio the night before, as "Bruce Has the Talking Stick", a self-accompanied bass clarinet solo band. But enough about me... for now!)
The most memorable music-related act, for me, was Before Dark, by the Live Action Set. They did a couple of excerpts from their Fringe show, one of which involved two leery dancer/acrobats, and a cellist, who played a minimalist, minor key accompaniment, in fits and starts, as a counterpoint to the dancers' physical fits and starts. A wordless call and response, full of music, silence, expression, and physicality. Delightful!
Also on the music front: Dean J. Seal and Steve Anderson did excerpts from An Empire Disguised as a Nation -- a clever and pointed dark political comedy. Part of Dean's contribution was some hilarious songs, which he also peppered through the evening in his role as Fringe preview M.C. He treated us to La Bamba in Norwegian, with references to Haagen Dasz and Husker Du. And a country-western satire encouraging Mexico to take back California and Mexico, which the U.S. "appropriated" some time back... More on this one later.
I also need to mention The Driving Instructor, a hilariously seductive solo rant and romp, which included a tent-revivalist session with a wild man preaching pop culture as religion, as he exhorted the audience with cries of "Elvis lives!".
We also heard from Allegra Lingo, who gave us some enjoyable excerpts from her spoken-word reminiscences of a trip to Italy (part of a show called Agog, I believe), and the Flower Shop Project, who acted out part of a ghost story called Drowning in Velvet (which looked intriguing, but needed better miking of the actors, who were competing with Taste of Minnesota noise from across the river).
Keep in mind that these folks were all good enough to take time out of their rehearsal schedules to give us a taste of the Fringe, and that what we saw was a full month before the Fringe begins. They sure whetted my appetite!
Damn, there I go again. Note to self: Enough with the food references, already! I'm the Music Man, and I'm searching for the Fringe Heartbeat, not its stomach rumblings!
Coming soon: My report on Leslie Ball's stunning vocal comeback at the Dakota last Thursday, and on the Fringe Showcase at Leslie Ball's Cabaret last night.
But first, I want to riff on this thought for a few measures: Even with the comparatively languid tempo of pre-Fringe activities (for audience members, anyway), I have learned that I have to watch my pace, or I might find myself running out of breath. (And being a horn player, that's not a good thing.) I'm a glutton for all kinds of artistic stimuli, and sometimes don't know when to ease off when there are so many goodies on the table in front of me. (Of course, one look at the girlish figure I HAVEN'T been able to keep will tell you that I indulge in multimedia gluttony!)
But, food metaphors aside, I found myself taking in too many artistic events, Fringe and otherwise, in the last few days. And I recall vividly that the opportunity for that is way greater during Fringe week. So, see all you can, but not when you're too worn out to enjoy it!
OK, onward:
My First Fringe Showcase
I went to see the first showcase on July 2 at "Patio Nights at Minnesota Museum of American Art", a new Thursday-Friday evening OUTDOOR venue high above the Mississippi in downtown St. Paul. (Check it out at http://www.mmaa.org/pationights.html.) (I was predisposed to attend this showcase because I had just performed a gig on the Patio the night before, as "Bruce Has the Talking Stick", a self-accompanied bass clarinet solo band. But enough about me... for now!)
The most memorable music-related act, for me, was Before Dark, by the Live Action Set. They did a couple of excerpts from their Fringe show, one of which involved two leery dancer/acrobats, and a cellist, who played a minimalist, minor key accompaniment, in fits and starts, as a counterpoint to the dancers' physical fits and starts. A wordless call and response, full of music, silence, expression, and physicality. Delightful!
Also on the music front: Dean J. Seal and Steve Anderson did excerpts from An Empire Disguised as a Nation -- a clever and pointed dark political comedy. Part of Dean's contribution was some hilarious songs, which he also peppered through the evening in his role as Fringe preview M.C. He treated us to La Bamba in Norwegian, with references to Haagen Dasz and Husker Du. And a country-western satire encouraging Mexico to take back California and Mexico, which the U.S. "appropriated" some time back... More on this one later.
I also need to mention The Driving Instructor, a hilariously seductive solo rant and romp, which included a tent-revivalist session with a wild man preaching pop culture as religion, as he exhorted the audience with cries of "Elvis lives!".
We also heard from Allegra Lingo, who gave us some enjoyable excerpts from her spoken-word reminiscences of a trip to Italy (part of a show called Agog, I believe), and the Flower Shop Project, who acted out part of a ghost story called Drowning in Velvet (which looked intriguing, but needed better miking of the actors, who were competing with Taste of Minnesota noise from across the river).
Keep in mind that these folks were all good enough to take time out of their rehearsal schedules to give us a taste of the Fringe, and that what we saw was a full month before the Fringe begins. They sure whetted my appetite!
Damn, there I go again. Note to self: Enough with the food references, already! I'm the Music Man, and I'm searching for the Fringe Heartbeat, not its stomach rumblings!
Coming soon: My report on Leslie Ball's stunning vocal comeback at the Dakota last Thursday, and on the Fringe Showcase at Leslie Ball's Cabaret last night.
Monday, July 19, 2004
I'm bringin' you a Fringe that's true...
... Get ready, get ready. Cuz here it comes!
Do' doo do do do' do
Do' doo do do do' do
Doo doo doo doo.. do' do
Oh. Hi! Got carried away there for a minute.
But don't expect an apology. I CRAVE getting carried away by music, and I'm gonna sniff out such experiences wherever I can find them in Fringeville. And then I'm gonna blab/blog about them here.
So, tune in, turn on, and drop by. Join me in my search for Fringe ear candy!
Do' doo do do do' do
Do' doo do do do' do
Doo doo doo doo.. do' do
Oh. Hi! Got carried away there for a minute.
But don't expect an apology. I CRAVE getting carried away by music, and I'm gonna sniff out such experiences wherever I can find them in Fringeville. And then I'm gonna blab/blog about them here.
So, tune in, turn on, and drop by. Join me in my search for Fringe ear candy!
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