This weekend we’re due at our annual meetup with the cousins-in-law and their children in Birmingham. We meet up each year to go and see a show at the Symphony Hall and then head off for a meal somewhere before finishing with a wander round the excellent German Market.

I’m not due at the Symphony Hall until 2pm so have a few hours to go caching on the way. We’ve pretty much done all the city centre caches (apart from a few multi’s) so I settled on a series of Traditional caches along a canal near Great Barr, all set by g6lpb.

Looking at the logs they seem to be something a little different, with some sneaky hides, which we always like.

I then need to get over to just south of the city centre and do our 3rd try for Cheeky Cache!. We’ve failed to get this on the last two annual trips to the Symphony Hall, so it’s becoming something of a tradition for us to visit here at the same time.

I’ve got my bike in the back of the Jeep ready and hope to try for as many caches as I can in the time I’ve got.

If all goes well, myself and Isaac then plan to try for some of the newer caches around Codsall, Rough Wood and Cannock on Sunday.

For me, it was destined to be a night of discovery, since I was not particularly familiar with any of the pieces on the schedule for this week’s program at the Boston Symphony Orchestra (BSO). The program featured Béla Bartók’s Divertimento for Strings, Bohuslav Martinů’s Violin Concerto No. 2, and Antonin Dvořák’s Symphony No. 8 in G Major. I anticipated these pieces from least to greatest in this order as well, knowing nothing about any of them save Dvořák’s symphony. The BSO were led by guest conductor Christopher von Dohnányi, and Frank Peter Zimmerman was the violin soloist for the Martinů.

The relative simplicity of the Bartók Divertimento was plainly apparent in the lack of winds, brass, and percussion, giving a thin sound to the piece that here sounded relatively uninteresting. If I had closed my eyes for a moment, I might well have been listening to an advanced amateur string orchestra playing this piece just as well, since it did not appear to require the resources of our orchestra, who were at reduced strength anyhow. The second and third movements were slightly more pleasing to me, as they seemed to ease into a more comprehensible melodic structure, but I never got a grasp on the piece and was happy to quickly forget about it.

One quirk of Symphony Hall is that anyone can gauge the attendance by two metrics: one audible and one visual. The visual metric is by simply looking around for empty seats. After the intermission, I counted at least 20 seats directly in front of me, which for the BSO equates to chirping crickets. However, the arguably more amusing metric for attendance is the Sounds of the Bouncing Chairs. The seats in the hall are older, and they are joined and supported by a wooden frame that can make an unpleasant and loud noise when kicked or opened. Some of the chairs slam down, while others do this bouncing routine giving it a kind of fake reverberation. In fact it is good practice to open any collapsed chairs around you prior to the start of a piece, so they aren’t apt to be disturbed during the performance. Otherwise, you may as well yell, “Timber!” as the seats fall. Because the number of empty seats are limited, the number of falling chairs is probably related to the number of empty seats. In a typical performance here, which is often filled close to capacity, one usually hears no more than one falling chair during any given piece (usually the first) and no more than two throughout the evening. Tonight, during that Bartók, I counted four but may well have missed some in the later movements.

I was curious about the Martinů, since the concerto is one of my favorite musical forms (so long as it does not feature the flute, sorry). Additionally, having played the violin, there’s a certain place in my heart for violin pieces (of which there are so many). Yet my expectations were tempered by the knowledge that the Martinů was a twentieth century piece, which isn’t quite as alarming as post-1970s Miles Davis but has a greater probability of sounding like John Coltrane’s Ascension (confusing and dissonant but at least very long). I should say that Zimmerman gave a nice performance, navigating through tricky chords and double stops without making a mess of things. But there was nothing to me that was particularly compelling about the music itself, and this is another case in which I am fortunate to have the BSO expand my musical horizon but thankful that I can file Martinů away for the time being.

And finally, Dvořák’s Symphony No. 8 followed the intermission, which I spent in preparation for the demands of listening to a symphony properly. It’s not that they are necessarily so dense that it requires a vast amount of preparation, but the symphonic form is so rich with its instrumentation and movement of themes that the appreciation of the piece can be heightened in the right mindset. I actually recognized Symphony No. 8 in part, which was not altogether surprising to me but certainly welcome. I’ve said it before, and I’ll reiterate that the symphonic form is where the BSO shine. With orchestra seats in KK, we heard the full extent of the symphony once again. There really is no electronically reproduced musical experience quite the same. I found the Dvořák to be pleasant; this is not to my ears a particularly great symphony, in terms of its inability to elicit a particularly interesting range of emotions. I do think that the composer was, perhaps, a gifted melodist, which endears me more toward his chamber music, which I have explored some but far from exhaustively.

I suppose that it is unreasonable to expect every night at the BSO to reveal a musical gem that to my eyes remains unpolished and undiscovered. And while I have heard other music by Bartók and Dvořák, I am not at all familiar enough with their work to claim that tonight was any more than an introduction to all three composers, one I am thankful to have experienced.

Symphony Hall Foyer, Birmingham UK
27-11-09
Hey, remember Thad Jones Mel Lewis Big Band? A horn player and a drummer leading a group that became an institution and sparring ring for many a fine young jazz player? Well, fast forward a good few decades and Birmingham could have its own version.

Ed Puddick is a trombonist but spent his time in the front, conducting and name-checking the soloists; Tom Haines is a drummer and kept things tight at the back. Both had written lots of new music for this band which has strong Birmingham Conservatoire connections and a lot of familiar faces.

The Morgan brothers were there in the saxophone section, as was Sub Ensemble bari man Colin Mills. His fellow Subber, Mike Adlington was in the trumpets as was Sam Wooster, leader of a very interesting young quartet in this town.

On bass was Conservatoire grad who has gone on to bigger things in London, Ryan Trebilcock, and on piano was the much travelled Steve Tromans.

Of course the band calls itself an “orchestra” so any Count Basie and other big band connections were out of the question – this was much more serious stuff, full of atmospheric textures and more expansive writing.

Full marks to all concerned – Ed and Tom for writing the stuff, the musicians for buckling down and getting on with it, Birmingham Jazz and Symphony Hall for giving them a platform, and all those who turned up to enjoy and applaud. It was an impressively sized audience, even by the standards of these popular weekly sessions.

What I’d really like to see now is the band given scope to develop. That can only come with the guarantee of a regular gig – local promoters please note. What I’d also like to see is a bit more space for the soloists. A composer and bandleader like Maria Schneider writes specifically for the players in her jazz orchestra, and often gives a specific soloist practically a whole tune to themselves. It’s a very effective ploy and I think soloists like the ones in this band would rise admirably to such occasions.

Also, I know it’s early days but a little more edge and a little less politeness from the soloists would help greatly. Mr Tromans can be relied upon to move things up a gear and this he did in a fine and idiosyncratic solo just before the interval. Chris Proctor on tenor played a great little solo early in the second half but was cut off by the tight arrangement before he could really build on the potential of his feisty beginning.

I confess I had to head off to another engagement 15 minutes before the end – maybe the band broke free from the polite arrangements and scholarly, by-the-book solos at the end. Maybe Haines shouted like Mingus while the trumpets headed for the stratosphere and the trombones broke out in dirty chaos. Maybe the sax section marched out into the crowd wailing all the while.

Or maybe that will happen next time. I live in hope.

the advice: when you meet them you just know, it’s simple.

{but how?}

by asking yourself these two questions:

if you had to picture your life without them…could you? {no}

is this person your best friend?…{yes}

Too bad the most important question of all was left out…

are they in love with someone else?…{yes}

Two hugely contrasting gigs in as many days – contrasting in so many ways but both with a great deal to recommend them.

On Tuesday, 24 November, a singer who has shifted an exceptional number of CDs and can fill a large auditorium but still continues to, in her own inimitable way, confound showbiz expectations.

The jazz fraternity can be sniffy about singers, especially ones who are on the margins of jazz and, to use the jargon, “shift units”. They should make an exception for Madeleine Peyroux; she is the real thing. She has paid her dues on the streets of Paris, has the uncanny knack of sounding about 70 years old and as if she has stepped out of a past jazz/blues era, and maintains very high standards, both for herself and her musicians.

And on her latest album, Bare Bones on the Universal label, she has moved in a subtly new direction and devoted the whole album to original songs.

She is a quietly compelling live performer and rarely have I heard anyone lay back so far behind the beat without getting lost. Not sure who is in her touring band but last time out Jon Herrington, who also tours with Steely Dan, was on guitar.

She is in the newly refurbished Butterworth Hall at the Warwick Arts Centre from 8pm. Tickets are £25 and £22.50 from www.warwickartscentre.co.uk

On Wednesday, 25 November, a young band that has probably shifted an unexceptional number of its first CD, but which deserves to sell vast quantities because it really is that good. Zed-U is bassist Neil Charles, clarinettist Shabaka Hutchings and drummer Tom Skinner.

The band’s album, Night Time On The Middle Passage, on the Babel label, reveals a most original sounding trio, combining some boisterous, freeish jazz with electronics and North African-influenced trance-blues.

It’s very impressive stuff, combining power with great subtlety, and Hutchings, especially, is electrifying live. Oh, and for this date Seb Rochford replaces Tome Skinner on drums.

No large and newly refurbished concert hall for Zed-U; they are at the Rainbow pub in Digbeth from 9pm. This is a Jazz Club session, from Birmingham Jazz, and entrance is just £4 on the door.

And maybe one day Zed-U will be filling the Butterworth – we can dream! More at www.birminghamjazz.co.uk

Before both of those is a not-really-jazz gig that should be an absolute joy. The Japanese pianist and composer Ryuichi Sakamoto is at Symphony Hall on Sunday,  22 November, with just a piano and his gorgeous tunes.

If he plays Amore, the opening track from his new Decca disc, Playing The Piano, that will be enough. You might remember the song from his best-selling album Beauty (and including the Arto Lindsay lyrics: “Good morning, good evening where are you?”). The solo piano version is heaven distilled into a few minutes.

There aren’t many tickets left, but just being in the same hall as the man should be enough. Go to www.thsh.co.uk

I was late to Symphony Hall this afternoon, since I wasn’t ever really sure I was going to try to acquire one of the “very limited” rush tickets to today’s Celebrity Series performance featuring the Berliner Philharmoniker with Sir Simon Rattle at the helm. But I found myself at the end of a longish line, with cash in hand and hope diminishing. Talking with the German medical students behind me, we decided my lack of optimism was likely warranted, since an upset patron stormed out of the box office with the bad news that all rush tickets had gone. When one waits in line with some expectation of being able to see a performance, value estimations change dramatically. Waiting in line for rush tickets is our version of sniping stuff on eBay: at the last minute we’re willing to justify certain increases in price. In my own head, I was willing to go considerably higher since I felt that I’ve had a history of amazing deals in the $0 to $14 range. When the announcement came that there were no more rush tickets, we were waiting to see if perhaps limited leg room tickets would be available. After one experience in these jump seats ($14), I am far more willing to go up to the next price level, but it was very nice to hear people who wanted nothing more than to be inside Symphony Hall, at any expense, to be present for the Berliner Philharmoniker. One of the German students made the comment that she had never seen them in Berlin, and we found it funny that she would try to see an orchestra from her country during her five week stay in Boston. Almost cruelly, the caravan of luxury buses with the musicians pulled up to Symphony Hall, and a photographer snapped our photos as we waited in the line.

As people in front of and behind us started to leave the line, we moved up and waited patiently for any information on a general sell out, which would not have been surprising for this concert. For a moment it seemed that our persistence paid off in quite an unexpected way when they announced that more rush tickets had been made available. There were twenty, apparently, and approximately as many people in front of us. We were still not guaranteed a ticket but eventually prevailed in a big way — some of the medical students got T row orchestra tickets, while the others and I had C row orchestra seats.

Two hours later, we returned to Symphony Hall, and it would be my first time seeing an orchestra other than the Boston Symphony Orchestra perform there. As the musicians filtered onto the stage, applause filled the hall, which does not happen for the BSO musicians’ entrance. The concertmaster, an older, grizzly man with a goatee, came onto stage traditionally after the orchestra were seated, and he led the tuning. As Rattle appeared from the stage right door (nearly all conductors of the BSO enter stage left), I had the unique opportunity to see him quite close. The fluffs of gray hair bobbed around his expressive and appreciative face as he bowed graciously to an eager audience applause. He pretty much appeared exactly as pictured on his box sets.

My neighbor at today’s concert, a physics graduate student at MIT and amateur violinist, asked me what the best seat in the hall was. I may have mentioned before, but the best seat in my opinion is a virtual one, located some 20 feet above the middle of the orchestra level seats, dead center, with an unobstructed line to the stage and completely enveloped in pure sound pressure and reverberations. Other than that, the experience varies considerably between different seats in the hall. I always liken the closer perspective as the perfect headphones, where seats at the back of the hall are more like the perfect speakers. They are two completely legitimate experiences of the music, but they are vastly different. In row C, we were clearly in perfect headphones territory, unlike my previous experience with a Brahms symphony at the BSO. The farther away from center, the smaller the soundstage becomes, and the closer to the stage, the more “artificial” it seems at times.

I prefer grand symphonies and large orchestra works from the best seats in the house: middle orchestra, fairly far from the stage. Featured soloists playing as part of concertos are also experienced well here, of course, but I love the up close, intimate views of them from the first few rows and slightly stage right. While I’ve never been in the first balcony seats near the stage, I suspect these offer a unique visual perspective but nothing particularly unique aurally. In truth, there are only a handful of “bad” seats at Symphony Hall (jump seats and the ones behind the pole), and even these grant you access to hear the amazing music constantly being produced there live.

Today would be an afternoon of Brahms, to be sure, but an Arnold Schoenberg piece made a brief appearance between Symphonies No. 3 and 4. The Schoenberg was some sort of film music, apparently, and what I have to say of it is this: I have never been more appreciative of program notes that print the approximate duration of the piece (in this case, 8 minutes).

I have heard but cannot claim familiarity with the 3rd Symphony, but it was, in true Brahms style, intense and rich. This group of musicians were different from my beloved BSO in many ways. Cosmetically, all the men had colored ties on, where I remember them all uniform in the BSO. More substantially, I noted that their entire orchestra seemed to be comfortable allowing the music to move them. The entire orchestra almost swayed in visual concert, something that is not a part of our orchestra’s style. Once in awhile our first stand will express their absorption in the music, but it is a rather rare occurrence. On several passages, Rattle did not seem to be giving the orchestra any rhythmic or dynamic cues, leaving them to their own self-organization. Among the group of professional musicians, Rattle seemed to serve as even their confidence as he coaxed more and more sound out of them and also encouraged restraint when necessary. Between each piece, the members of the orchestra switched positions, which happens infrequently at the BSO; generally the night’s seating in a given section stays the way it is.

Symphony No. 4 is the piece that really opened my ears to Brahms, when the BSO performed it earlier this year. From the beautiful theme of the intense first movement, to the wild and dramatic finale, it’s an experience that’s difficult to match. The scope of No. 4 ranges from playful to serious, and the Berliner Philharmoniker executed it brilliantly. I must admit that there’s a special place in my heart for the BSO’s performance of it, but I also don’t know the piece well enough to really discern the differences. Both experiences were emotionally fulfilling, and I’m very grateful to have seen such an esteemed conductor and orchestra within the wonderful acoustics of Symphony Hall.

There was definitely something about the performance of Beethoven’s 9th Symphony by the BSO that was destined to be special. There’s always an energy in the air surrounding an eagerly anticipated live performance, and from the moment I was in line for rush tickets, an hour before the ticket sales in dreary conditions, I had a sense that it would be a special night.

I actually enjoy rush line conversations, because they have so far been invariably amusing, and I’ve had the chance to meet some very interesting people. This time, I was flanked by two beautiful women, but one was looking around eagerly for someone with earbuds in her ears, and one behind me was studying her buzz-off medical flashcards. And so I read my book. The boyfriend did arrive, and this presented a tricky etiquette situation of Rush Line Tickets. There are a limited number of tickets available — 100 per show — and clearly this was a big performance, since the line started forming well over an hour before the rush tickets are sold. If you save a place for someone, that really might mean that someone around place 100 doesn’t get a seat, despite having waited in line for such a long time. But the civility that generally marks the symphony crowd prevailed here, as the couple descended to the back of the line, advancing me one place (this is important). I ended up talking to a very nice gentleman who was a businessman from New Hampshire who traded MFA stories with me (who else can I do that with?). I also knew to be nice to the girl behind me, since she would end up sitting next to me during the concert. (It’s not that I was planning on being rude or something.)

Anyhow, while I was finding my seat later that evening, I had a funny feeling about my seat, and it never dawned on me to look on the ticket for the words “partially obstructed view.” The feeling I had was that I was sitting right behind one of the large pillars in the rear of the orchestra section! Avoid seat QQ27 at all costs. There are other, similar seats that afford a lovely view of a cylindrical stone column, on which I suggest they draw an outline of the orchestra so you don’t stare at the pole all evening. It’s a good thing I was friendly to the girl behind me, since I probably intruded slightly on her personal space trying to get a view. Actually, I think I’m the perfect patron for that seat, since I’m not inclined to complain about being there for $9 and because I am there for the aural experience far, far more than the visual one. I can be outside the hall and still have a good time.

The notable difference on the stage was that the choir rafters were set up for the 9th Symphony. It would mark the first time I heard the human voice project in Symphony Hall, and like all the other symphonies save No. 5, I was not terribly familiar with the entire piece. Of course every burgeoning violin student who plays in any youth orchestra is bound to encounter Ode To Joy, but it was nothing like this.

In sequential order, the BSO started with Symphony No. 8, and true to the observation, it was a lighthearted even numbered Beethoven symphony, with a pleasant theme. My new symphony friend KVS noted that our esteemed guest conductor, Lorin Maazel, was not too distracting in his movements, which she appreciated. I can go either way, honestly, and like seeing the variety of styles in composers. No. 8 is short, which makes for a good program partner with No. 9, which is somewhat epic in scope.

As the choir filtered on stage in single file, I got a bit excited at the prospect of hearing that instrument for the first time. The choir always looks larger than the space reserved for the group, and they would prove to be a powerful, singular voice. Four chairs were reserved in front of Maazel for the four soloists that Beethoven required. The Egg was never more a fitting crown on the stage than in this configuration of musicians on stage.

From the first choral note to the end, I could not help but grin stupidly at the magnificence of the projection of the human voice throughout the hall. It managed to find even me, in the partially obstructed seat, in glorious praise to music. I have witnessed no finer exaltation than the combination of song in Symphony Hall. While I’m always impressed with the ability of non-mechanical amplification in the form of the contrived physics of instruments such as the violin, piano, or horn, the nature-created human voice has yet to be matched note-for-note by our clever engineering. I’m singularly impressed.

At some point, during one of the more popular songs, I was secretly hoping for an audience singalong reminiscent of the scene in the film Amadeus during a performance of Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte. If I were ever certain it would be well received at Symphony Hall, I’d be right in the middle of that. There was an element of completeness missing from the evening since I had missed out on performances of 6 and 7, but there was also a perfect finality of witnessing the 9th for the first time live, having heard Nos. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 8 in the last few weeks. While I was very impressed and thankful for Maazel’s last minute guest appearance, I do hope that our very own James Levine is recovering well and returns to his swivel chair on stage soon.

Kit Downes - exquisite art for free! (Picture: Russ Escritt)

No, I don’t mean the stuff Ornette did on that famous 1961 disc with the Jackson Pollock painting on the cover, nor all the totally improvised music uninhibited by set rhythm, melody or chord sequence that has happened since and continues to flourish on the free/improv scene.

I’m talking about jazz you don’t have to pay for. The thought that links free jazz” and “problem” was one that passed through my mind at about 5.50pm on Friday evening. I was standing beside a pillar in the Symphony Hall foyer in Birmingham, and the pianist Kit Downes was reaching the climax of an extraordinary piano solo.

He had begun it quietly and fairly simply, moving gracefully through the chord changes provided by saxophonist Sam Crockatt who had written it and was leading the band. But then Downes – surely the busiest pianist in the UK at present, seeming to be in every second band I come across – started to add bits, striking new takes on what could be played over these changes, tricky runs up through the octaves and down again. And then he added even more. Bassist Oli Hayhurst and drummer Ben Reynolds dug deep in response and Downes just kept on adding not only harmonic and melodic complexity but jaw-dropping rhythmic shifts of emphasis too.

I have heard some pretty fine pianists over the past 12 months, from Keith Jarrett in the Royal Festival Hall at £45 a shot (and not the most expensive ticket that night by any means) to Herbie Hancock at Symphony Hall at not much less than that, to Liam Noble or Tord Gustavsen for about a third of a Jarrett. Now, I am not saying those pianists weren’t worth the money. They certainly were. And I am not saying Kit Downes is (yet) in that class. But free? I am hearing this exquisite art for free?

Of course the gig can’t be put on for free. In the case of the “Free Jazz” sessions which happen nearly every Friday evening between 5.30 and 7pm in front of the panoramic windows onto Centenary Square in the centre of Birmingham, the audience is relieved of the need to dip into its own pockets because THSH, which runs Birmingham Town Hall and Symphony Hall, have dipped into theirs, and Birmingham Jazz, a small organisation which is responsible for an awfully large chunk of jazz activity in this city, has done likewise to produce and present such an excellent programme and ensure the musicians get paid the going rate.

And I am sure there will be times in the future when we will all be paying a goodly sum to hear Kit Downes, or Sam Crockatt, or Ben Reynolds (We already pay a bit to hear Oli Hayhurst in the Zoe Rahman Trio, for example). As it happens, I remember hearing Jamie Cullum for free in a session produced by Birmingham Jazz at the old Fiddle & Bone, a precursor to the current SH gigs. And what would I pay to hear him now? Well, as much as £44, actually, with the booking fee, for his appearance at Symphony Hall next year.

So my point is not that there shouldn’t be free jazz, but, I suppose, should it be quite this good? If the Symphony Hall foyer crowd can hear jazz of this calibre for free – and they are not alone – the Jam House crowd can do the same on one Tuesday in every month when Birmingham Jazz puts a gig on there; Kit Downes performed with his trio at the Criss Cross Jazz Club in Moseley a few weeks ago and a hat was passed round – then what incentive is there for them to pay a few quid to see more? And is there the possibility, in this Western capitalist world we live in, that, inevitably, we all begin to put a value on something relative to the value that is put upon it by the market? You know where I’m heading without me having to mention celebrities or football players or merchant bankers…

Now, this free jazz thing is only a small tributary of a bigger river that has loads of flotsam and jetsam floating down it in the form of free download sites, file sharing, putting one over on the record industry fat cats and all that. But we are not talking Beyonce or Robbie Williams here. We are not talking about Sony and Warner Bros. We are not talking about Pirate Bay and BitTorrent and all that mullarkey.

What we are talking about is some kind of recognition that jazz musicians are worth something, and it shouldn’t be left to the promoters alone to show their appreciation in actual cash. Because, let’s face it, the amount of money a well-established jazz musician is making is pitiful, so heaven knows how one just starting out even affords the baked beans to go on the toast.

I don’t know the answer to all this, and I do want opportunities for young, aspiring jazz musicians to get a chance to show what they can do to the listening public. I just wonder if that listening public knows quite what a good deal it is getting.

I really would like to start some kind of discussion about this whole issue, so whether you are a musician, a promoter, part of that audience, an accountant, a PR person, whatever – please let me know your thoughts and feelings.

When the musical Rent closed on Broadway, we didn’t have to fly to New York to see it. Instead, I picked Lizabeth up from school one day and told her we were taking in a movie, surprising her instead with a filmed presentation of Rent’s closing performance at a local movie theater (“Rent: Filmed Live on Broadway”). Since then, we’ve discovered that we can catch all kinds of arts performances with all the creature comforts of the movies.

Harkins Theatres and Emerging Pictures are presenting the “Opera and Ballet in Cinema” series, which features “the best of European opera and ballet” in Hi-Definition digital projection. Two live performances—Carmen/Bizet (December 7) and Il Trovatore (December 22)—will be shown at Harkins Scottsdale 101. The series runs through July 21, 2010. Harkins Norterra 14 will feature Swan Lake on November 3 and the Nutcracker on November 24. For a complete schedule of performances and participating theaters, visit www.harkinstheatres.com.

If you think your children could never enjoy the opera, think again. Lizabeth somehow heard about Rigoletto during elementary school, and convinced me to buy tickets to the Arizona Opera production at Symphony Hall in Phoenix. It was my first time at the opera, and I hadn’t any idea what to expect. Sometimes you just have to follow your child’s lead.

We both ended up loving it, and went to the opera regularly for many seasons thereafter. Opera is rich in color, in characters and in sound. It shouldn’t have surprised me that Lizabeth would adore it. It’s a feast for the senses and rarely fails to capture the imagination. Another favorite of ours is Madama Butterfly because the music leaves you feeling like you’re soaring to great heights—as well as great depths.

Experiencing opera and ballet at the movie theater is a great way to enjoy a rainy afternoon, to get a taste for something outside the ordinary, to expose your child to artists he or she might otherwise never see. The Metropolitan Opera is presenting “The Met: Live in HD” during the 2009/10 season at AMC Theatres, which features nine live transmissions from the Metropolitan Opera in New York. For a complete schedule of performances and participating theaters, visit www.metoperafamily.org or www.amcentertainment.com. Upcoming presentations include an Aida encore on November 11.

“Sing me a Story: The Metropolitan Opera’s Book of Opera Songs for Children” by Jane Rosenberg gave us a kid-friendly yet adult-palatable introduction to some of the world’s most beloved operas enjoyed by children—including Hansel and Gretel, The Magic Flute and several others. It doesn’t include the opera I consider my biggest error in judgment: Dialogue of the Carmelites. What could be so terrible about an opera featuring French nuns? Short answer: The guillotine. Enough said.

If you’re considering a trip to the opera, just do your homework first. Some operas make better choices for a grown-up’s night out. Check out Arizona Opera at www.azopera.com and Phoenix Opera at www.phoenixopera.org to learn about 2009/2010 season offerings and special programs offered for students and youth.

Lynn

Coming soon: A Winnie-the-Pooh Christmas Tail

It’s the week of the Sams: Sam Wooster at Wednesday night’s Jazz Club and Sam Crockatt at Friday evening’s Free Jazz.

Wooster is a trumpeter from Bristol, a recent graduate of Birmingham Conservatoire (and a 1^st Class one, too), winner of a 2009 Yamaha and Classic FM jazz scholarship, and leader of a quartet, which is at the Rainbow pub in Digbeth.

The rest of the band comprises Conservatoire buddies Jimmy Brewer on guitar, Tom Sinnett on bass and Jim Bashford on drums.

The band uses the guitar trio format to exploit rock leanings interleaved with the jazz, and Wooster names trumpeter Cuong Vu as a major influence.

As Vu played the Rainbow at the beginning of this year, Sam must be delighted to have a chance in the same venue.

Four young Birmingham-based players, then, showing that there is life after the academic studies, and a highly inventive life, too. Just try the audio clips at samwooster.co.uk and read more about the band there. For more on the gig go to www.birminghamjazz.co.uk

Entrance is £4 on the door; the music starts after 9pm.

Sam Crockatt is a tenor saxophonist, studied at the Royal Academy, and has played and recorded with fellow student there, pianist Gwilym Simcock. He helped to found the Loop Collective and his quartet’s album Howeird, on Loop Records, won the 2009 Parliamentary Jazz Award for best jazz CD.

He’s a strong player who doffs his cap to Wayne Shorter and writes original pieces of character and flexibility.

The band is in the Symphony Hall foyer bar from 5.30pm on Friday. It’s Free Jazz in the sense that there is no charge. More at www.thsh.co.uk

For baritone saxophonists there is one figure from jazz history towering over them: Gerry Mulligan.

One of the finest modern British exponents of the “bari” is Andy Panayi, and together with trombonist Mark Nightingale, he leads The Gerry Mulligan Tribute Band in Coventry on Thursday night, along with Simon Wolf on double bass and Steve Brown on drums. Mulligan and Baker favoured the piano-less quartet, so why shouldn’t Panayi and Nightingale?

The venue is the Biggin Hall pub in Binley Road, kick-off is at 8.30pm and it’s £10 for most of us and £7 for students. More at www.jazzcov.co.uk

Finally, big band jazz gets a shot in the arm from O’Neill’s pub in Broad Street, which is introducing a monthly Big Band Sunday from this weekend.

First up is the 18-piece Sambuca Diaries Big Band. It’s free and starts at 8.30pm.

O’Neill’s manager Paddy Barton says: “We’re delighted to be involved with what is a vibrant jazz scene here in Birmingham. In addition to Big Band Sundays we are also going to be working with the Birmingham Conservatoire to present world-class jazz musicians over the coming months.” More about all that soon.

Free Jazz sessions, Symphony Hall foyer bar
23-10-09
The original plan was for guitarist Jim Mullen to bring his organ trio and add Stan Sulzmann on saxophone and Percy Pursglove on trumpet. Well, it was clear a few weeks back that wasn’t going to happen. Step in Pursglove to save the day, and because the organ thing seemed an attractive drawcard, he enlisted Ross Stanley in on the Hammond and Leslie (the organ sporting black metal legs in place of the unnecessary and cumbersome wooden box – a guy I used to play with in a Northern Soul band had a much cruder and still pretty awkward solution to the transport problems of a B3; he just hacked it in half with a saw and moved it in two bits – and the Leslie on wheels – stroke of genius). Andrew Bain on drums completed the band.

As Percy explained to the audience, they were just going to play some of his favourite jazz standards – and so they did, at a cracking pace for the first couple. The slowed a little for Skylark, and then it was back up to speed with Monk’s Straight No Chaser. After last week’s good but rather reserved performance from the Sara Littlefield band, this was a real hot-from-the-start performance, all three players just raring to go and relaxed enough to have a good time, take some chances, even delay a while for between tune discussions (presumably on what to play next rather than what daytime TV they had watched earlier).

Pursglove started out playing rather too many obvious runs but started to sound much more inventive as the early evening darkened, Stanley was the reluctantly tethered racehorse until his solos came, but he also settled as a supportive soloist, while Bain began to grin and grimace in delight fairly early on and stayed that way for the duration.

It begs the question, why aren’t there more Hammond players around (like the trombone, it’s an instrument practically incapable of conveying misery – just good vibes all the way) and can we hear more of Ross Stanley in future, please?

A great little band and the enthusiastic audience response to prove it. And proof that playing standards isn’t just for boring old farts.

First a reminder that this early evening’s Free Jazz session in Birmingham’s Symphony Hall foyer bar will not be Jim Mullen’s Organ Trio. But the good news for lovers of jazz organ is that that instrument will still feature. The player is Ross Stanley, and with him are Andrew Bain and Percy Pursglove. Starting time is 5.30pm, the music runs till 7pm, and it’s the entrance which is free, not the jazz.

Not jazz tomorrow, but a certain affinity. It wasn’t just Miles Davis’s and Chick Corea’s affections for Spain that drew jazz and flamenco together – there is a certain fellow feeling in the improvisatory spirit, too. And the same goes for tango. So a heads-up for Tanguisimo, a double-bill featuring the Uruguayan tango singer Jose-Luis Barreto and the French pianist Stephane Spira, along with flamenco dancer Ana Garcia and the band Asin. They are all at the CBSO Centre in Berkley Street tomorrow from 7.30pm. Tickets are £15 from 0121 780 3333 or here. And there is more about this here.

October 13, 2009

When news broke that Ben Folds was playing with Boston Pops at Symphony Hall, it did not come as much of a surprise. Folds’ songs are all about dynamics and expressions, which is what an orchestra does best. Because of the expressiveness of his songs, Folds is also one of film industry’s favorite pop artists to work with, not to mention he wears his heart on his sleeve when it comes to music.

On arrival at Symphony Hall, the wide range of the crowd was surprising. It felt like a representation of Boston population. From skinny jeans wearing hipsters to mid-age men in suits, the show seemed to have attracted every kind of demographic from every age group.

Folds walked out on the stage in all-black attire that matched the orchestra’s tuxedoes, and the crowd cheered out loud from their anticipation and excitement. During the first a couple songs, Folds explored the space he had in the orchestra. Although they were his songs, his melodies, and his words, Folds did not try to take over the stage. Instead, he shared the show with Pops as if it was a giant band. His emotions and stories were coming out in the most modest-yet-honest way, and the crowd reacted instantly by cheering and singing along.

Into his fifth song, Folds’ presence started to take over the stage. He played songs that had personal anecdotes to them such as “Ascent of Stan,” and ”Landed,” and the Pops took the dynamics of Folds’ songs and amplified them magnificently. By the time he was playing a song for his daughter, “Gracie,” Folds had complete control over the crowd. He had the evident power to move the crowd, and as if hypnotized, the full-house audience laughed and cried to his words. During “Not the Same,” Folds even taught the audience the three-part harmony from his song “Not the Same,” letting the crowd experience the song as a full.

About three quarters through the set, Folds shared with the audience that he had been working on a new album with High Fidelity author, Nick Hornby. Boston Pops members put their instruments down to let Folds play two new songs from the album by himself. Even though the full sound of the orchestra was gone, the energy of the previous songs carried on, and left listeners with the impression that Folds’ music inherently has the power to move people. A symphonic orchestra helped Ben Folds express his sound, but it was ultimately the presence of Folds himself that enticed the audience.

Folds ended his set with “One Angry Dwarf and Two Hundred Solemn” and retired to the backstage. However, the audience kept calling and cheering for him, encouraging him to come back out without Boston Pops to play some fan favorites such as “The Luckiest,” and “Army.” The encore brought out the rock ‘n’ roll side of Ben Folds’ shows that the Pops were covering up, and everyone got up and danced in order to let out the energy they had been containing the entire night. The audience energy peaked during the last song of the night “Rockin’ the Suburbs,” highlighting everyone’s night by dropping the F-word on top of their lungs in Symphony Hall.

Attendees left the venue feeling both energized and inspired. Ben Folds fed his crowd a genuine, raw musical experience that only comes to town once in a while.

-Lily Jeong

Norwegian pianist Tord Gustavsen has, in his own quiet and very special way, built up a great following with his trio, making three albums for the ECM label and touring regularly to perform the music from them.

He likes to play acoustically, has, in Jarle Vespestad, one of the most expressive and subtle drummers in the business to help him, and is able to build great emotional intensity and intellectual searching into jazz that is also direct and beautiful.

This really is music that the audience leans into.

His previous visits to Birmingham have been to the mac and with the Trio; this time he has a quartet, Vespestad remaining on drums, with Mats Eilertsen in on bass and Tore Brunborg on saxophone, and comes to the CBSO Centre on Saturday.

The band has a new disc out this week on ECM, called Restored, Returned, and it reveals the Gustavsen musical essence very much intact – often quite slow and graceful, with lovely melodies and an underlying blues/gospel feel that gives it an understated groove – but now with an expanded palette of timbre and tone.

Eilertsen brings a stronger bass presence and a more precise, but still warm, sound, while Brunborg has a style that in many ways is characteristically modern Norwegian – clear and clean and mostly gentle – though less keening than Jan Garbarek.

This is a band likely to thrive in a fine acoustic space, which is just what they will have in the CBSO Centre on Saturday.

This is a Birmingham Jazz concert, it starts at 8pm, tickets are £14 (£12 for members) and you can book on 0121 7674050 or online at thsh.co.uk – and if I were you I wouldn’t hang about, because tickets are going fast. More info at www.birminghamjazz.co.uk

If you were planning at trip to the Jam House on Tuesday next week to hear the regular third Tuesday of the month Birmingham Jazz gig there, don’t. Go tonight instead. And if you were expecting to hear a band led by pianist Marcus Byrne, you’d be wrong again.

The players you will find on the stage this evening from 9.30pm will be Pete Harris on guitar, Chris “Beebe” Aldridge on saxophone, Bill Mudge on piano, Ben Markland on bass and Neil Bullock on drums. That’s the beauty of jazz – the unexpected. And it’s free.

On Friday, the Free Jazz slot at the Symphony Hall foyer bar features the Leeds-based Sara Littlefield Band.

Sara is a tenor saxophonist from strong jazz stock – her father was pianist and composer Ron Littlefield, and the band’s first album, full of original compositions, is dedicated to him.

With Sara are Jamil Sheriff on piano (if you heard Sara Colman’s recent gig at the Jam House, you will know how good he is!), Jonty Fisher on bass and John Perry on drums.

The music starts at 5.30pm and goes till 7pm. Again, it’s free.

Last night we spent an evening with Joan Baez… the concert was at the Symphony Hall, Birmingham and it was the third time we had seen Joan perform there. The acoustics in the Hall are the best and particularly suited to Joan’s unaccompanied songs.

The journey into town at one point seemed to be a slow affair with traffic being particularly bad inbound. Then we realised that another living legend was also performing in Brum, Cliff Richard & The Shadows at the NIA.  After parking up we mingled with Cliff’s fans as we made our way into the ICC and Symphony Hall. Time for a quick drink in the bar where we chatted to Brummie’s own legend, Steve Gibbons and his wife Suzi, also there for the concert.

Joan performed well with a mixture of old and new material backed by some great musicians. Maybe a little more subdued than previously but nevertheless she still slipped in her inevitable take on Bob Dylan much to the delight of the audience. Everyone came away smiling after a wonderful evening.

We then took ourselves off the The Wellington Real Ale Pub for a quick pint of Purity Ales “Mad Goose”. I really thought I was in heaven. But things got even better when on the way back to the Car Park we accidently bumped into Joan doing some late night sight seeing. We couldn’t miss the opportunity to meet this living legend, so we told her how much we had enjoyed the show and she received us graciously with both of us receiving a hug. Now I’m in heaven.

What a wonderful end to a brilliant evening.

http://www.joanbaez.com/

If you are a youth worker, teacher, or musician and working with young people with learning difficulties, special needs, or physical disabilities, then here is a chance for you to share your skills, stories, and techniques!  You can discover the Patrick Music and Multimedia Studio at Symphony Hall and learn more about the use of technology. MusicLeader West Midlands and Youth Music are organising this event which is in association with Town Hall/Symphony Hall, Birmingham .

This event takes place on 16th November at Symphony Hall, Birmingham .
If you are interested in being a part of this event, then email your interest

Pop man turned jazz-inflected singer and saxophonist Curtis Stigers is back in the UK for a substantial  tour which started this evening in Northampton and comes to Birmingham’s Town Hall on Tuesday. It then takes in everwhere from Southend to Carlisle before returning to the Midlands on 22 October to wind up at the Lichfield Garrick Theatre in my hometown.

Curtis has a new CD out – it’s called Lost In Dreams and is on the Concord label (It was Concord exec John Burk who saved Stigers from the pop/singer/songwriter business that didn’t really understand him, and offered him a niche at the softer, cabaret end of jazz). It is full of warm, singing stuff, including, would you believe it, a tribute to Vera Lynn. There is also a heartfelt version, thought not a terribly jazzy one aside from the piano solo, of John Lennon’s Jealous Guy.

His Birmingham Town Hall concert is at 8pm, and there’s no support so get there on time. Tickets and more information here. Or if you prefer the Lichfield date, here.

While it’s true that there is no jazz without improvisation, some forms of jazz stress the spontaneous creation of new music more than most. In fact some practitioners and promoters refer to the music they make as “improv” in order to make the point. One such organisation is Frimp (short for free improvisation) and you can hear a fine example of what they like at the Hare And Hounds in Kings Heath, Birmingham, on Wednesday.

Their first event of the autumn season has a three tenor sax front line, with veteran free jazz saxophonist, Paul Dunmall (hear him later in the autumn, also, as part of the extraordinary Profound Sound Trio) up against an exceptional young tenor player, Mark Hanslip, and Frimp co-founder Bruce Coates. With them are Trevor Lines on bass, Mike Hurley on keyboards and Tony Marsh on drums. The doors open at 8pm, the improv kicks off at 8.45pm, it’s £8 to get in and it’s in Venue 2 at the Hare and Hounds.

Not really a jazz gig but fascinating nevertheless, Polar Bear’s laptop wiz Leafcutter John collaborates with folk singer Lisa Knapp to produce Canal Music. Their Grand Union Canal tour reaches Gas St Basin on Wednesday and the gig is at the Flapper & Firkin on Kingston Row. Tickets are £10 from wegottickets.com or on the door.

The memory of alto saxophonist Cannonball Adderley is honoured in the Symphony Hall foyer bar early on Friday evening when Staffordshire saxophonist and BBC Stoke jazz DJ Chris Gumbley treats us to the great man’s music. Adderley was responsible for some of the brightest, most ebullient modern jazz of the early 1960s and his live recordings are some of the most joyous ever. Chris has a lot of that spirit himself so this should be a good one. The music goes from 5.30pm to 7pm, it’s a collaborative effort from Birmingham Jazz and Symphony Hall, and, of course, it’s free.

The strong new season from Jazz Coventry counts in with the one, two, three on Saturday as one saxophonist/clarinettist, Altrincham, Cheshire’s Alan Barnes, swaps choruses with another, Cleveland, Ohio’s Ken Peplowski. Behind them, but no less important, is a limousine of a rhythm team, John Pearce on piano, Alec Dankworth on bass and Martin Drew on drums. This all takes place in the Warwick Arts Centre’s Studio Theatre from 7.45pm, and tickets are £12.50 here or on 024 7652 4524. More details of the Jazz Coventry season are here.

And finally, let’s hear it for the Crossroads Blues Club which on Saturday hosts the UK’s “1^st Cigar Box Guitar Festival”. It’s a whole day dedicated to guitars made out of, you guessed it, cigar boxes and will include a gig by legendary (it says here) cigar box guitarist Hollowbelly. More information at cigarboxnation.com, whose slogan is “a nation built from sticks and boxes – we’re making fun again”. Amen to that!

Don’t forget to use the coupon code “Discount” for the One Day University Events!  You only pay $99 per ticket with the code!

Simply call, We ALWAYS ANSWER!  800 – 251 – 4941

Welcome to One Day University

The One Day University includes the finest professors teaching today at Yale, Harvard, Princeton, Columbia, and many more of the nation’s top schools. We chose “the best of the best.” This means this group is virtually an all-star team of great professors who’ve won teaching awards year after year!

Can You Back to College for Just One Day?  Yes.

Award-winning professors from Harvard, Yale, Brown, Princeton, Dartmouth, Columbia, Penn, Cornell and other top-tier schools come together to offer an exciting classroom learning experience. These unique events are a fresh opportunity for professionals, retirees, or even recent grads who feel nostalgic for a time when life was more about learning than job performance.

Remember When It Was Fun to Learn?

Our program allows students-for-a-day to rediscover the joy of education by journeying back into beloved subjects and exploring new ones. Remember those classes you were fascinated by, but never signed up for? Or remember that class you wanted to take with a renowned professor-but it always filled up too quickly? Now you can take those courses at One Day University.

Learning as a Lifelong Pursuit

One Day  University is truly the most stimulating day of college available anywhere. Our class lineup lets you partake in the latest thinking on world affairs, science, politics, history, art, literature, and more – and you don’t need to spend $45,000 an academic year to enjoy it!. We have are no entrance exams, no SATs to ace, and absolutely no stress.  Just engaging classes taught by the most sought-after professors from America’s most prestigious schools.

Aaron Diaz

The city’s workers are back from their soggy summer hols and in need of cheer at the end of a hard week. And those Rush Hour Blues can be eased once again from this evening when these sessions, a collaborative effort by Birmingham Jazz and Symphony Hall, start in earnest again in the Symphony Hall foyer, in Birmingham city centre.

Tonight it’s not one band but two in an ArtsFest Special: Tim Amann’s X-tet and Aaron Diaz’s Zappajazz.

A cracking combo led by one of the hardest-working pianists in the Midlands, and a Grand Wazoo of a big band, then, hitting the downbeat just on 5.30pm and going till 7pm. It’s free, of course.

Birmingham Jazz has been dedicated to working in schools for a few years now and, in addition to regular in-school sessions and workshop Saturdays at the CBSO Centre, they occasionally perform for the public. This evening is just one occasion and the Birmingham Jazz Youth Group play the Symphony Hall Rush Hour session from 5.30pm.

Masterminding the whole thing, and using a highly individual and successful teaching technique, Sid Peacock encourages the young players from all kinds of backgrounds not only to “make up stuff” by improvising on their instruments but also to make up their own tunes.

The big band he directs is particularly impressive, creating some wild and wonderful sounds and bringing great energy into any room they play in. Check them out today, and if you want to know how you can help further Birmingham Jazz education happen, go to www.birminghamjazz.co.uk

Indian music and jazz have always been happy bedfellows, luxuriating on the mattress of sprung rhythms and puffing up the pillows of improvisation. But enough of tortured metaphors… what about the Rush Hour session at the Symphony Hall foyer bar later this afternoon?
It’s Marva, the group of Manveer Singh, who has studied at Birmingham Conservatoire and carries on the fine tradition started by the late, great John Mayer of making Birmingham a home for indo-jazz fusion. This is a free gig and is a THSH/Birmingham Jazz promotion

This evening’s Rush Hour session at the Symphony Hall foyer bar should be good, with a visit by bassist Mick Hutton.

He is one of those supremely versatile musicians who can play any kind of jazz with any kind of jazzer, from Humph to Django (Bates). His CV includes Pharoah Sanders, Bob Stenson, Tim Garland, Tim Whitehead, Christine Tobin, Gordon Beck, Robin Williamson (of the Incredible String Band), Gary Husband, Mose Allison, John Scofield, Loose Tubes, Roger Dean, Graham Collier, Claire Martin, Ralph Towner, Annie Ross…

He also is dab hand on the steel pans, though I am not sure he is bringing any of those along this evening.

The band is a quartet and also features the very fine saxophonist Andy Panayi. Up in Birmingham all we usually get to hear of Andy is the occasional brief solo in a BBC Big Band gig. We look forward to a lot more than that tonight. The music starts at 5.30pm, though if you want to play pensioner musical chairs you need to get there a lot earlier. And it costs you nothing but your drink.

The Rush Hour sessions are a co-presentation by THSH and Birmingham Jazz. The band has national touring support from Jazz Services.

http://ihatemusic1943.blogspot.com/2009/06/edvard-grieg-es-el-rey-de-la-montana.html

Tomorrow evening in Birmingham there are two chances to here what the North London musicians who have ganged together in the Loop Collective have to say.

At the CBSO Centre from 8pm are Outhouse (right), a four-piece led from the drums by Dave Smith, with Johnny Brearley on bass and the two tenor frontline of Robin Fincker and Tom Challenger (who has replaced Mark Hanslip). For this gig they are joined by Hilmar Jensson, an Icelandic guitarist who has spent time in New York working with players like drummer Jim Black.

Outhouse have a really interesting take on the current young British way of bringing new influences, whether from world music or from rock, into small combo jazz, and their work with African drummers has helped shape their sound. It’s quite disciplined and detailed but with the ability to stretch out into the more free areas of improvisation.

It will be fascinating to hear how Downtown New York and North London find common ground.

The Outhouse Quartet with Hilmar Jensson are presented courtesy of Birmingham Jazz and tickets are £12 (£8 for members) from 0121 767 4050.

But you shouldn’t start the evening there, because there is another excellent Loop Collective band or two on first. This is Birmingham Conservatoire graduate Alcyona Mick’s Quintet plus Blink, her trio with Robin Fincker and drummer Paul Clarvis. They are in the Symphony Hall Foyer Bar for the Rush Hour session from 5.30pm till 7pm. Alcyona writes fascinating music which feeds the kind of harmonic exploration Herbie Hancock first brought to jazz into a thoroughly contemporary kind of chamber jazz. Fincker is a thoughtful and thought-provoking saxophonist and Clarvis brings smiles by sending them out – oh and by playing some mighty fine drums, too. This one is free, and is a co-promotion between Birmingham Jazz and Symphony Hall.

Find out about all this and all the other things Birmingham Jazz does here.