Hollenbeck

Saw John Hollenbeck on the advice of Kramer last night. He (Hollenbeck, not Kramer) was in town doing a guest composer gig here at the U. The university jazz band was ok doing it's own stuff, but then zowee--when they played his music it was like a different band came into the room. Kudos to the kids.

After a break, his own band, the Claudia Quintet, played a set. And talk about a quintet: Hollenbeck on drums, bass, sax/clarinet, vibraphone(!), and accordion(!!). One song was so beautiful it brought tears to my eyes.

Looking at these guys' biographies, I see they're all heavily involve with klezmer / slavic, and at least one of them has worked with John Zorn and Uri Caine. Why is it that this is such a small damn world!?! Are there so few people playing good jazz today that they circle around each other in Brooklyn like a flock of turkey vultures?

My small town continues to impress me with the quality of its musical offerings. No spinny dancing last night.

Thanks librarian.net

Guardian Unlimited | The Guardian | How to... use a library: "Libraries are brothels for the mind. Which means that librarians are the madams, greeting punters, understanding their strange tastes and needs, and pimping their books."

I'd really like to know if this author came up with that first sentent.

Back from almost a week in sunny (and a bit too warm--I'm getting soft) LA for ASIS&T. Look for comments on the conference over the weekend.

Hit the Orange B

I guess this is the original intention of the blog--surf and post.

I had just found an interactive map of blogs, and of course had engaged in the number 1 most common atlas quality check: I looked at my own home town. (Oddly, there is no Chicago on this fine map, but only an Elk Grove Village). From there, I quickly found myself reading about Cumbamba at
The Making of a Restaurant

Small world. Good restaurant.

Cubs

Ain't never thought I'd be talkin about sports here.

I can only too easily believe that the Cubs choked so badly. At the time it was like a bad dream (not that I was following all that closely), but this morning, it seems oh so typical.

Wireless does not equal Ubiquitous

Part of the reason I started doing this was the entry of wireless into the house. But I still find myself wishing to have access at other moments and other places. For instance: we had some time on the coast this weekend when I could have been talking about the waves, the lighthouse, the big black birds with the orange beaks. We got pretty close to some sea lions that were hanging out in an estuary sheltered from the rough surf. Dinner was excessive, but excellent.

Last week, I never quite got around to talking about the rest of Zorn Fest. I didn't tell the story of asking the record store clerk what he had that starts with Q. And there was little opportunity to talk about the first week of school.

So many dead blogs. So many moribund web pages. So far from a truly digital life.

BTW: the Blogger spell check recommends flogging for blogging, and blocs for blogs. Long live the blog bloc.

Zorn fest

Just got back from John Zorn. First of three concerts. This is difficult music. L asked me how it was, and I had to think hard just to say whether I enjoyed myself. I did--but of course I'm still not sure if I'm smart enough to enjoy the music.

One thing I definitely enjoyed was the encore. The pianist, Stephen Drury, didn't know that Carny was on the playlist tonight. He, Zorn, and the cellist came on stage, and Drury announced that he hasn't played the piece for a year, so they were going to play snippets and talk about it.

Zorn is charming--and smarmy. He cursed. He admitted that passage after passage of the piece were lifted from other composers. He made it sound as if the whole thing was cut-and-pasted together.

I'd never seen anything like it. It wasn't quite like a rehearsal. Nor was it a public broadcasting meet-the-composer shtick. In the pre-game interview, he said they would "deconstruct the piece," but I don't think that's exactly what they did. It was more like talking a book. 'This is what is going on, and if you're smart you'll catch all these references, but you can also enjoy it if you sit back and listen.' or: 'This is what's going on. In 50 years, graduate students will catch all these references, but for now, it's not important: we'll point them out to you and sorry we' not going to play the thing straight through.'

At one point, with the score out of order, Zorn points as Drury is playing: "What the fuck is that? Where did that come from?" At another, something like: 'I like this bit, look how pretty it is on the page.'

Cobra tomorrow afternoon. Masada tomorrow night.