Kronos Quartet and Ammons weave together in my consciousness

Last night Dan and I sifted through a dreamy Kronos Quartet concert: "Music without Borders" - music from Iran, Pakistan, Kazakhstan, Palestine and more. Free orchestra seats through work - man, I love my job!

Kronos is one of my long time experimental classical favorites (especially their "Performs Philip Glass" CD from 1995 - still kills me every time). I wish there was a CD of this show... very avant garde or completely different sounds for our Western ears. The variety and experimentation was inspiring.

As I describe a few favorite pieces, I'm reading A.R. Ammons, "Sphere: The Form of a Motion", and somehow both the concert and his poetry weave together in my spirit this week. The quotes are from Ammons:

33: "Order is the boat we step into for the crossing: when we/ step out, nothingness welcomes us: inspiration spend through..."

Kronos started the concert with the rousing, if brief, North African/Lebanese tune by an unknown artist: "Oh Mother, the Handsome Man Tortures Me", a title that amused both Dan & I.

57: "...everything in moderation including moderation..."

A traditional Iranian 1976 lullaby was haunting and soft. Glenn Branca's "Light Field (In Consonance)"? A revelation! Coupled with the slowly changing lights on the curtains... mesmerizing, unique, dreamlike.

70: "...I am terrified of my/ arrogance and do not know and do not know if the point in the/ mind can be established to last beyond the falling away/ of the world and the dreams of the world: but if we are small/ can we be great by going away from the Most High into our own/ makings, thus despising what He has given: or can we, accepting/ our smallness, bend to cherish the greatness that rolls through/ our sharp days, that spends us on its measureless currents: and/ so, for a moment, if only for a moment, participate in those means/ that provide the brief bloom in the eternal presence..."

"Nihavent Sirto" by Turkey's Tanburi Cemil Bey made me want to get up and dance.

143: "...by the time you amount to something,/ the people you meant it to mean something to are dead and you/ are left standing there, your honors in your hands..."

The Kazakh tune by Kurt Shildebaev, "Kara Kamir", is heartbreakingly sad and chilling.

153: "...lately, we've left out the high ranges of music,/ the planetary, from our response... not homogeneous pudding but/ united differences, surface differences expressing the common,/ underlying hope and fate of each person and people, a gathering/ into one place of multiple dissimilarity, each culture to its/ own cloth and style and tongue and gait..." YES!

The weaving, multi-layered, surprising web of Aleksandra Vrebalov's, "Hold Me, Neighbor, In This Storm", was an epic finish to an utterly unique and vibrant concert.

126: "...you can sit around/ and talk about it all day but you will never walk the tightwire/ till you start walking... fall off a few times to see it won't kill you..."

Currently reading: Revelations: Personal Responses to Books of the Bible

Preservation Hall Jazz Band

They played a free show at Stern Grove yesterday - such a spectacular park it is, deep in a ravine, lush green, tall Eucalyptus trees, lush foilage, and, today, bright sun.

Local Lavay Smith opened with her big band, as we savored a fresh picnic sweet Amanda prepared. Then Preservation Hall Jazz Band began (www.preservationhall.com): New Orleans' legendary band. It's a dream of mine to see them in Preservation Hall when I finally make it to New Orleans. This, a rare, free show of classic Dixieland, Ragtime and Jazz.

By the end of the show, we were dancing on a log (a felled tree beneath us), alive with the spirit of the music. The entire park, hundreds of people, were dancing joyously as this Southern symphony of men played on, a number them almost a century old, now childlike souls beneath the swaying trees of Stern Grove.

"The gradual transformation from an attitude of self-hatred to a spirit of self-acceptance is what occurs in the process of trying to be honest." - Brennan Manning in "A Glimpse of Jesus"

Currently watching : Designing Woman (1957)

culture hound

There is always a sea of options in a city like SF so wading through cultural events and happenings can be overwhelming, especially for a broad arts lover like myself. I have to curb my desire to embrace and drink it all in, to, rather, fully drink in what I do partake of...

4/9 - Muse at the Bill Graham Civic Center; though the crowds were obnoxious (think sweaty teenagers & overcrowding moshers), the music was enthralling and encompassing; I became lost in the roar of operatic vocals, crunching guitars and flowing piano; the spirit of Queen (mixed with modern alternative rock) lives on!

4/13 - Vivienne Westwood exhibit at the DeYoung Museum; a stunning collection of sometimes shocking, sometimes hideous but inventive fashion (some outfits I'd LOVE to have myself); the exhibit had an intriguing flow and we went for the Friday night party replete with live opera, jazz, cocktails and fashion show to highlight this only in SF (in the US) exhibit.

4/14 and 4/15 - Old musicals at the Castro Theatre: Gene Kelly day and Fred & Ginger day; I was weaned on classic films from a mother who knows everything about them, imparting her extensive knowledge to me; it was a delight to see these classics again, especially on the big screen in such a historic theater as the Castro; they played "On the Town" & "Singin' in the Rain" (Kelly) and "Top Hat" & "Swing Time" (Astaire & Rogers); Gene Kelly is still my favorite dancer in film history: such athletic, manly agility, accompanied by graceful precision.

4/27 - SF Film Festival, "Black Sheep"; hardly 'high culture', this New Zealand horror movie about bio-engineered sheep attacking a farm community in NZ was more disgusting hilarity than anything else. I'll never see sheep the same way again.

5/4 - Thelonious Monk & John Coltrane Carnegie Hall concert played by Joshua Redman, Brad Mehldau, Christian McBride and Brian Blade at Herbst Theatre; some of our favorite jazz musicians (and the best living today) playing music of our favorite jazz musicians of the past in a rare SF Jazz Fest show. Brilliant, unbelievable musicianship... enthralling; we have the CD of Monk & Coltrane playing this show originally in the 50's so it was genius to see it recreated here by such profoundly skilled musicians. We went with Schram, 'Tash and her family - it is sweet to share with friends who appreciate it as we do.

5/18 - The incomparable Regina Carter at Yoshi's; Dan and I had a perfect 'date' here. Her avant-garde arrangements, particularly of "Little Brown Jug" and "Georgia, On My Mind" mesmerized us; she is even better live than on her CDs with violin playing so pristine and clear - not a hint of a mistake; her fellow musicians a delight (clarinet, piano, upright bass, drums); their joy in playing was obvious, enlivening the set.

5/19 - Bjork & Joanna Newsom; thanks, Brian & Liz, for taking us to hear one of my favorite performers, Bjork, and a new favorite of mine, Newsom. Again, the crowds were obnoxious, but the show & musicianship, riveting. Bjork is an enchanting pixie with her voice a luring siren, even as she moves into her 40's. As the electronic dance strains of her music escalates, it's trance-inducing and all you can do is move in childlike glee, as she does - she must be the best dancer ever as she has no slick, choreographed moves, rather, she's like a little girl just moving as she feels it. Newsom a uniquely skilled harpist and lyricist, even if her vocals are an 'acquired taste'.

There is more but this is but a taste of some of the events that have flavored my month with diverse richness.

Currently reading : The Nasty Bits: Collected Varietal Cuts, Usable Trim, Scraps, and Bones By Anthony Bourdain

Paula West at the Plush Room

Every year I look forward to Paula West's month at the Plush Room. My favorite jazz singer to hear live... and a Bay Area local... it's a magical experience every time - and I've seen her once, if not twice a year for six years. Her voice may not be an Ella or Billie or Sarah (who is these days, really?), but it is well crafted, honed and robust. Her articulation and craft is immaculate... and her song selection unbeatable.

That's my favorite part about the whole thing: waiting to see what she will sing next. Other than her infamous, "The Snake", her encore for every performance (sometimes accompanied by "The Ides of March", which both she & Jane Monheit seem to be known for singing), her song list is different every year. Never the same songs twice.

Variety is the spice of life for me... and, so it seems, for her. She'll sing the classic jazz standards, occasionally well known, often obscure, but she'll surprise by throwing in a Bob Dylan ("Mr. Tambourine Man"), Johnny Cash ("I Walk the Line"), Hank Williams ("Honky Tonkin") tune. Or an Irish ditty ("The Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond"). Or songs from a Broadway musical ("Trouble" from "The Music Man", "I Have Dreamed" from "The King & I"). All of these in fresh, original jazz arrangements. I don't know who does her arrangements as she plays with a different band every year: this year's George Mesterhazy Trio may have been the best I've seen her with yet (he's a brilliant pianist; his middle Eastern sounding arrangement of "Nature Boy" is chillingly good).

Always surprising, I wait with bated breath for what will come next. As I am one weaned on classic literature, music, even TV (all shows I watched were 1960's and prior)... each song is not only a step back to my childhood but also a step into melody that I hold so dear.

Music is the great love of my life - it's always been true. And I am no respecter of styles: I embrace it ALL. Still, there is something about jazz that is more haunting, enchanting, seductive, soothing, mesmerizing, relaxing and transporting than any other style. These nights at the intimate (if overpriced) Plush Room, what a jazz club should be, are magic for me... and I was privileged to relive it twice this February, first with Dan, then with Manka and Chelsea.

The funny part is, I keep running into Paula West frequently around town. I never say anything to her - not sure what I would say anyway - but it's interesting that I have seen her a good 5 or 6 times this year: sat next to her at the bar at NoPa, saw her at Westfield Shopping Centre, another time at Neiman Marcus and then ate breakfast at a table next to her at Dottie's this weekend. We're either fated to meet or it's just a coincidence of people with good taste colliding in our fair city.

Currently reading : Long Walk to Freedom: The Autobiography of Nelson Mandela By Nelson Mandela

i can't take it in

"Can't Take It In" - Imogen Heap
"Wunderkind" - Alanis Morissette
"Into the West" - Annie Lennox

my anthems this year. this year of change. of new decades and new horizons. of my girlhood and adulthood juxtaposed. death nearer. sadness infinitely more intense for the brevity of life. i feel that. longing and wonder... as intensely as ever.

i just danced wildy around the living room in the dark. felt the freedom. the rug soft under my feet. trying not to rouse the neighbors below but ultimately not caring. was completely out of breath after three songs.

moved to the fire escape for fresh air. the sun had long set but there was still that glow in the west, vivid degrees of blue coating the sky, common at this most magical hour of night. i played "wunderkind" and "can't take it in" from the living room, wafting out the window to my fire escape platform - my vista to the world. the living room glowed warmly with one candle inside, looking as inviting as a secret cottage found suddenly in the woods with a fire, slippers and tea ready after you've danced with the faeries.

but i remained outside with the invigorating breeze blowing my skirt up, the varying blues seeping into me, melding with my spirit. knowing i am the 'joan of arc', that 'groundbreaker', "destined to reign, destined to roam..."

claiming that promise of my youth that feels like a joke when examining my capabilities, but not when i realize God is still the same as s/he ever was. and this means... it is all true!!?!! i can hardly believe the beauteous mystery of the creator of my youth is IT. reality. the real reality. behind the thin veil i can see through any moment i stop and breathe. "i can't take it in..."

the stars began to peek out. the blues richening. fog dotting the peaks. the tower flashing comfortingly. then... "into the west" drifts through the air... and i weep. weeping with a smile. with joyous knowing. with surety that "the white gulls will call" and the "ship will come to carry me home." oh, that this beauty is but a hint. i tingle, i thrill, i shiver with the possibility of more in the afterlife.

then an old anthem from my early twenties: "only if" - enya. "for the promises, there is the sky/ and for the heavens are those who can fly... when there's a journey, you follow the sun/ when there is love and you reach for the one/ and for the broken heart, there is the sky/ and for tomorrow are those who can fly... if you really want to, you can seize the day/ only if you want to, will you fly away..."

still mine. is it true? has it been true all along? "when there is love and you reach for the one..." since the days i would listen incessantly to this song, "the one" has come. my most deepest of dreams came true... what else lies ahead? i can't take it in.

these songs, the soundtrack of my life. past and present. evolving. new. yet the same. a constant thread. i can feel the ocean over the hills. can't see it. but know it's there. and that is enough.

i come in from the magic of outdoors to the glowing cottage of home. one last song. "lazy days" - enya. not so much the lyrics but the music. it somehow returns me to carefree days of childhood. i soar. i remember that night over five years ago in LA when i pirouetted alone like a passion-filled ballerina in the dark to this song. it takes me there again and i think i shall go and dance more. now. because i believe. ____________________________________________________
are you ready to come with me?
to stop a moment in the intensity of our days and look at those varying shades of blue in the twilight sky?
to take in the fresh breeze?
to reflect on fog or cloud whisp dotting the sunset?
to hear a strain of music and let the notes overtake you with ecstasy?

let us peek behind the veil together. like lucy, walking through the fur coats in a plain, unromantic, confining wardrobe, suddenly finding ourselves beyond...

in the place we hoped against hope for. didn't believe in. cursed the thought of - too painful to contemplate. but that deep down inside we knew was there all along.

Singing in the Car

Dinner on a cozy Fall night with wine and good conversation. Hearts open. Safety to reveal.

Afterwards, I left for home engulfed by fog so thick, I could barely see a few feet in front of me. This made driving difficult, maybe dangerous, but the roads were quiet at this time of night and I drove slowly through the mist.

I resumed listening to B sides from Alanis Morissette. Unlike most of my friends who listen/ed to her, she grew exponentially in favor with me post "Jagged Little Pill". While she became less and less a central figure in the music world, her subsequent albums selling significantly below "Pill", she pursued things like working with the Sisters of Mercy in India and I found a profound kindred in her lyrics. "All I Really Want", my favorite song on "Pill", was a foreshadowing of the type of lyric that would connect most deeply with me.

I recall my first hearing of "Thank You" before her second album was released. I was in San Francisco with YWAM before I moved here, and a music loving friend from LA had moved up here and given me the single he got as a promotional CD at work. I sat in my dorm room at the YWAM base listening and crying. It became my theme song for the months with YWAM in SF and overseas in Thailand and Vietnam. She would forever change for me after this.

As I drove, I listened to the B sides from "Under Rug Swept", some of them as much loved songs for me as those on her albums.

"Unprodigal Daughter" - a favorite musically and lyrically so freeing and accurate, though slightly hostile. "This plane cannot fly fast enough". My passion rises with it's cries.

"Offer" - "Is it my calling to keep on when I'm unable/ Is it my job to be selfless extraordinaire..." I harmonize and release, wishing for the freedom and release of the pressure to be all things to all people that I impose upon myself.

"Fear of Bliss" - "Sometimes I feel it's all just too big to be true/ I sabotage myself for fear of what my bigness could do..." The uncertainty, the self doubt, the hesitation, the impossibility... fear of what is bigger than myself. My vision is too big for my capability.

"Purgatorying" - a favorite. Stays in my head so that I am singing it in the shower and at work and while walking around the city. Haunting. "Entertain me for the tenth hour in a row again/ Anesthetize me with your gossip and any random anecdotes and/ Fill every hour with activity or ear candy..."

I sang through the fog at the top of my lungs. I harmonized. As always, the dark brought my true self out. No holding back. I was understood and expressed through song, once again. A lifelong thread.

Drove over the hill from the Sunset to my 'hood with the downtown skyline obliterated by oceans of fog. But I knew it was still there. Just as I knew there were wings on my back and limitless possibility in my spirit. Anything is possible.

Sleepless Nights

Ah, this summer of insanity… and privileges. Visits from my best friend and family are life giving. Other close friends’ visits have added delightful memories to my storehouse. Weddings and trips were plentiful, with my brother’s wedding the highlight.

Likewise, communion with our local friends has been rich. Nights mixing “creative” cocktails or eating fondue, talking about books, relationships and life with Dave & Becca. Weeknight walks followed by a warm cup of tea, connecting soul to soul with Chelsea as she stops by on her way home from work. Movie nights and bonfires on the beach with our “urban tribe”. Four of the always fabulous Stern Grove Festival concerts, replete with picnics. Wine tasting at our favorite new bar, the cozy, classy Hidden Vine, in the basement of a boutique hotel. Sunday lunches with “the tribe” at Carrie’s charming place either inside or out in her little garden. A rousingly inspiring Arts Night. Dinners with friends at Town Hall, Moki Sushi, Fog City Diner, Blowfish Sushi, Blue Plate and others spots in the endlessly amazing SF dining scene. Kabuki Hot Springs with Kristy (my first massage! Heavenly!) Writing group in Berkeley carries on. Regularly playing music at church under the capable direction of the musical wunderkind, Dave.

As always, Dan and I continue to share adventures around our beloved Bay Area, savoring things we love. We’ve shared a few picnics on our roof this summer – on Labor Day, we made the best meal yet of any we’ve cooked: a seared sushi grade Ahi– from the best butcher ever, Drewes’ Brothers- with grilled nectarine and red onion skewers (so much juicy flavor from the fruit), drizzled with a balsamic sauce we made, a side of roasted zucchini with pine nuts, parmesan and a sweet glaze, accompanied by a perfect Chardonnay I bought last week in Sonoma at Alexander Valley Vineyards. Jazz at Yoshi’s. Hikes in Marin. “The Overcoat” at A.C.T. – yeah, half price tickets!! Always the concerts: Sufjan Stevens (with Dave, Becca & Natashia). Medeski, Martin & Wood at the spectacular Villa Montalvo. A couple excellent films in a (thus far) lackluster film year: “The Constant Gardner” and “Junebug” (saw that one twice – haven’t done that in a long while). Nights reading together with soothing or rousing music playing, or listening to Dan play piano.

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My life is made up of so many good things. I am surrounded by things that inspire and challenge me. I adore my Dan. I know incredible friends. My family is the dearest. Creative goals are always dissatisfied in me yet most other goals are met in beautiful ways and that is no small feat. Even still, I feel a deep sadness within. Longing rages on. Always.

Last night, I was awake over two hours in the middle of the night, even as my Dad and sister are staying with us and I have a full week of visiting and work. I awoke and couldn’t sleep. The sadness and brevity of life were, once again, haunting my sleepless moments. I HATE feeling the impending closeness of death but am aware of it more and more as the years fly by. It’s morbid, it’s painful, yet it’s very real. I don’t want to face it. I cannot bear the loss of anyone in my family. I was thinking what I would do if I lost my father and the loss is too great to comprehend. With any family member. Or Dan.

I contemplated my selfishness and weaknesses and the burdened me painfully. I seem to get worse as I get older… or is it that I am aware of my faults more and more? Either way, it’s agonizing feeling as if you are ‘slipping’ instead of ripening with “old age”. How I want to not only ripen but blossom, pour out, explode into radiance.

I ache for my thirties to be a time of coming into my own in a most explosive way. Will this occur or is comfortable deterioration in order? You know I have always raged against complacency. Someone who no longer grows, learns or challenges themselves is someone I feel very sorry for – and someone I never wish to be. Yet I wonder if I am fated to live out my worst fears with such a strong personality as mine and very specific loves and hates. How can I not get irritable and unbearable as an old woman?

May wisdom and grace temper my passion. I value fire and vision. But I also crave balance and discernment. I have all these things but oft times, passion wins out and overrides my deliberation. I prefer this. I do not wish to live cautiously. Yet what better a person than a fiery powerhouse who uses her vision at the right times and in the right place, feeding the fiery vision while becoming more whole with quiet and nurture?

I cannot do this for myself. It seems hopeless. May God see fit to grant this gift to me.