D'Amico Cucina: The second-to-last night

When: Friday, June 26, 2009 • Where: D'Amico Cucina, Butler Square

A few years back I took HH to D'Amico Cucina for his birthday. Last Friday's repeat performance was tinged with nostalgia. The fabled Italian restaurant would close the next day, a casualty of changing economic times, the proximity of the new Twins stadium, and various traffic and parking woes.



It's not that the company is failing--D'Amico and Partners owns Cafe and Bar Lurcat, all of the D'Amico & Sons restaurants, Campiello (although the one in Minneapolis has closed, there are others in Eden Prairie and in Naples, Florida for snowbirds), and Masa, the gourmet Mexican restaurant on Nicollet Mall. The closing is "proactive" and it's rumored that Cucina might relocate.

But the original location was special. It was beautiful, comfortable, and the food and service were amazing. It was also, for 22 years, a sophisticated jazz venue on the weekends and a constant gig for many area musicians. Think Bobby Short at the Carlisle in New York City.



The regulars came out on Friday, and many friends. We sat at the bar, where the music was. Adam Linz and Luke Polipnick were at the other end. Jeremy and Marsha Walker showed up. Benny Weinbeck was on piano, Gordy Johnson on bass, JT Bates on drums. The players changed throughout the evening: Adam briefly took over for Gordy, Phil Hey replaced JT, Tommy O'Donnell sat in for Benny. Scott Fultz brought his saxophone, Benny's brother Henry his cornet, and for a time it was a quintet.



From where we were sitting, we could see the musicians, and while they spent most of the evening playing, there were breaks when they stood and talked together, handsome men in suits and ties, class acts in a classy place. We ate ahi tuna and veal in a sauce and perfect seared scallops, lobster gnocchi and tiny green beens, beef tenderloin and chocolate. The place was packed, the bartenders worked at hyperspeed, it was noisy but fun. The music—classics, standards, swinging and sweet, the kind you can turn to and focus on, then turn away from to toast and kiss your husband, yet you're still hearing it and it's shaping your mood and making your wine taste even better—the music went on and on and then it stopped.



Photos by John Whiting. Top to bottom: Benny Weinbeck; Gordy Johnson; Phil, Gordy, Benny, Scott, Henry; Henry Weinbeck.

Fat Kid Wednesdays + Buckley

When: Friday, March 13, 2009 • Where: Café Maude • Who: Fat Kid Wednesdays: Michael Lewis, saxes; Adam Linz, bass; J.T. Bates, drums

I’m liking Maude more and more. Owner Kevin Sheehy is committed to keeping the music going, the food good, the art fresh. It’s a too-loud crowd for the music but these days the operative word is “crowd.” And somehow it has become a place that gets away with presenting real music, often cutting-edge music, where no one seems to be listening.

It doesn't seem that the musicians who play there are gritting their teeth and putting up with it just because it’s a gig. They like Maude, too. Plus other musicians regularly show up to see their friends play. Tonight it’s bassist/composer James Buckley, who sits in for Linz for a couple of tunes near the end of the last set. I know about Buckley and hear about him often but have never seen him play—the timing has never worked out—so this is a first.



FKW is fine tonight. They give their usual nod to the Shaggs with “That Little Sportscar,” which Don Berryman caught on video when they played it at the AQ in January.



But most of the night is mellow—ballads and standards. Lewis’s mom Mary is here and he’s making her happy. Vince Mendoza’s “Ambivalence.” “Makin’ Whoopie.” The killer closer, “In a Sentimental Mood.” I won’t say FKW “deconstructs” the standards—the melodies and rhythms are still strong—but they do stretch them, bend them, reshape them.



Although Lewis is best known for his out-there saxophone antics (and, more recently, for playing electric bass with Andrew Bird), he is a superb player of standards, with a meltingly, heartbreakingly beautiful tone. We’re all googly-eyed during “Sentimental Mood.”

What a great band. Why everyone doesn’t come out to hear them every time they play is a mystery. Mary tells us they have played together for 15 years—half their lives. That’s probably how they make it look so easy.



Hear more FKW on MySpace.
Buckley is finishing up a CD with his trio (Bryan Nichols on keyboard/piano, J.T. on drums) and posting tracks on MySpace.

Photos by John Whiting. Top to bottom: Lewis, Buckley, FKW, Linz.

Jazz jam, with Wynton

When: Saturday, March 7 • Where: Dakota

The Dakota jazz club and Orchestra Hall, home of the Minnesota Orchestra, have been in close geographical proximity since the Dakota moved from St. Paul to Minneapolis in late 2003, but they never had a relationship until Lilly Schwartz became the Orchestra’s director of pops and special projects. Ever since, artists performing at Orchestra Hall have made their way to the Dakota after shows to dine in the club’s restaurant and sometimes perform on its stage. So when the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra came to town, it was a given that at least some of the band members would stop by on Friday or Saturday, maybe both. And it was hoped that some of them would jam with the excellent trio hired for the late-night shows: pianist Bryan Nichols, bassist Adam Linz, drummer J.T. Bates.

We weren’t able to go to the late-night on Friday but heard later that trumpeter Sean Jones and other JLCO members performed—and that a local musician had engaged Jones in a cutting contest. As they say, poor bastard, and I don’t mean Jones.

We were there on Saturday and it was one for the jazz history books. We knew when Wynton Marsalis came into the club—everyone knew—but didn’t expect him to play. Then he stepped on stage and joined Nichols, Linz, and Bates for the first tune. When he stepped down, we thought that was all we would hear from him. More JLCO members played—bassist Carlos Henriquez, drummer Ali Jackson, trumpeters Freddie Hendrix and Ryan Kisor. Then the trio took a break, after which Marsalis returned with his own trio: pianist Dan Nimmer, Henriquez, Jackson.



For the next 20 minutes or so, the Dakota was the Village Vanguard, Blues Alley, and the House of Tribes. By now it was SRO—word had gotten out—and it was thrilling to be there. The last time Marsalis played a small club in the Twin Cities was October 2003, at the now-defunct Brilliant Corners in St. Paul. Tickets were $45. The Dakota charges $5 for its late-night sets. People who walked in off the street on Saturday out of curiosity, or because they had heard the Dakota had a late-night scene and wanted to check it out, got more than a bargain. They got a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

When the quartet finished, the jam didn’t end. Saxophonist Michael Lewis, home on break from his tour with Andrew Bird, came through the curtain and played a tune; so did saxophonist Chris Thomson. Drummer Kevin Washington took over for J.T. toward the end and filled the air with thunder. Marsalis stood by the side of the stage, nodding and smiling.



See also my Arts Arena post on MinnPost.com.
Photos by John Whiting. Top to bottom: Wynton Marsalis; Nimmer, Henriquez, Marsalis, Jackson; Nichols, Linz, Lewis, Washington, Thomson.

P.S. I asked Jeremy Walker, former proprietor of Brilliant Corners, what Marsalis and his group played during their set. His answer: "I believe it is a suite of tunes called 'The Magic Hour.' I know he played some of the material at Brilliant Corners way back when. If I remember right, it is a suite about getting the kids to bed so you can have quiet time with the special person in your life."

Fat Kid Wednesdays at the Clown

When: Monday, September 1, 2008 • Where: Clown Lounge • Who: Fat Kid Wednesdays: Michael Lewis, saxophone; Adam Linz, bass; JT Bates, drums

Located downstairs from the Turf Club on University Avenue, the Clown Lounge is a center for improvisational music. During an interview earlier this year, Kelly Rossum said, "The Clown is a big deal. Out of all the clubs in the Twin Cities, it's the most consistently high quality music, week by week, month by month, year by year."



It's a pretty full house for Labor Day, mostly young white guys who are there to listen, including other musicians: Chris Morrissey, Bryan Nichols. Linz smacks his bass and pulls at the strings, Lewis paces (I wonder what he does on a shallow stage? Fall off?), JT rolls a ball around on top of his big floor tom. Lewis plays the same note over and over again, supporting Linz's solo; JT looks like he's trying to dig a hole in his snare with his sticks, or start a fire. At one point he seems to be playing goat toenails in a handkerchief.



Let me not give the impression the Kids are playing around. This is wholly engaging music, sometimes teetering on an edge but more often melodic and beautiful. During "Dewey's Tune," JT gives us a gorgeous drum solo. Lewis's tone is tender and sweet. Linz makes his instrument sing.

Words come into my head as I listen, and images, and this phrase, which repeats like a chorus: Jazz is contagious. Where did that come from? I don't know but it's the truth.



When we last saw Fat Kid at Cafe Maude, they played a tune by the Shaggs. I'm hoping they will again and they do: "That Little Sports Car."

Note to self: Get to the Clown more often.

Photos by John Whiting.

Double Bill at the Buddha

When: Thursday, August 7, 2008 • Where: Rogue Buddha Gallery • Who: First set: J.T. Bates, drums; Adam Linz, bass; Paul Metzger, banjo. Second set: Volcano Insurance: Luke Polipnick, guitar; Joey Van Phillips, drums; Chris Bates, bass.

I’m trying to remember the first time I heard and really listened, or tried to listen, to free jazz (a.k.a. avant-garde, outside, vanguard, experimental, unstructured…or none of the above). It might have been in February 2000, when the Cecil Taylor Quartet came here as part of the Northrop Jazz Season. That concert was memorable for two reasons: the music, which was crazy, and the speed with which much of the audience exited during intermission, never to return.

But I liked it. At the Montreal Jazz Festival in 2001, we sought it out and found pianist Lee Pui Ming performing with saxophonist and vocalist Joane Hétu and clarinetist Lori Freedman. I wasn’t packing Moleskines back then so I don’t have notes. I remember hair flying, someone wearing a kilt, silences, maybe shrieking. The specifics of the music escape me. The emotional memory remains: I was happy. Perplexed, challenged, out of my depth, and happy.

Because I like being happy, I go to see and hear musicians and groups like George Cartwright and Happy Apple and Anthony Cox and Fat Kid Wednesdays and Douglas Ewart. When Chris Bates sends out an email saying “This will be interesting, trust me,” I do. They all live here, thank goodness.

I also keep watch for people like Craig Taborn and Tim Berne, who come through here occasionally but not often enough for me. Hank Roberts, hurry back. And the annual Minnesota Sur Seine music festival is a mother lode of squeaks, squawks, wails, caresses, indistinguishable melodies, indeterminate rhythms, and sheer transporting joy.

Chris sent out an email earlier this week, which brought us to the Rogue Buddha shortly before 9 p.m. last night. He and Adam Linz were standing outside talking and let us interrupt them. Inside, the crowd was small, maybe 18 people to start and five were with the bands and many of the others were musicians; we saw Scott Fultz, Pete Hennig, Park Evans, Joe-who-plays-guitar-and-things, and others I recognized but can’t name. Former City Pages and Strib music writer Jim Meyer had driven up from Farmington, where he now lives. For a while, I was the only girl in the room.

During the first set, my focus was often on Paul Metzger, who played a modified banjo: seven (?) extra strings, electronics, and who knows what else. For much of the time, he bowed it. Sometimes he used a plectrum or strummed with his fingers, and sometimes he played it like a tabla. I had never heard a banjo make such sounds before. I thought the banjo was boring except when played by Béla Fleck (and mostly I like him with Edgar Meyer). I don’t think it’s boring anymore.



The J.T. Bates/Linz/Metzger combination played one long piece with slow parts and fast parts, solos and duos and trios, crescendos and decrescendos. The music came in waves. No melody, no regular rhythm, just flow. Banjo, drums, bass, banjo-drums, bass-drums, banjo-drums-bass. I thought of riding rapids, hanging on and hoping you’ll make it safely to the end and getting bounced around on the way. HH said it was like tasting wasabi for the first time. Linz plucked and bowed and patted his bass. J.T. fell into his drums and brought forth rhythms wild and strange. At the end, I asked, “Did that have a name?” J.T. said “No.” Of course it didn’t and I knew it didn’t but I wondered if he would make one up.

After a break and more $2 wine: Volcano Insurance. Their music was more mellow than I expected from the name. Polipnick’s guitar was dreamy and delicious. I thought I had seen him before and made a mental note to look him up when I returned home. Yes: in April at the Clown Lounge with Tatsuya Nakatani and Chris Bates.



Their final two pieces were fiercer, more fiery. For one, which Polipnick introduced as “a new ditty called ‘Calisthenics,’” they actually had a chart. They sometimes play from a setlist, so they’re not entirely about improvisation.

What did they play? I can’t tell you. But I was there for the energy, the creativity, the inventiveness, the fun…the ride, the wasabi, the surprise.

Whenever I try to write about free jazz, I wonder why I bother. It’s hard enough to write about music that has a form and structure. Or to write about a singer who uses words I can understand. This improvised, in-the-moment stuff, with altered banjos and pedals on the floor and wires and instruments that don’t even sound like themselves—who even cares if anybody writes about it? It will never be heard again. It won’t be replicated, and it can’t be bought and played on your stereo or iPod. It’s not only far out, it’s gone.

But I realized last night, while scribbling notes in an effort to capture a fleeting sonic moment, that one reason I write is to entice. Maybe someone who reads this will wander into the Rogue Buddha for live music sometime, or check out the Clown Lounge on a Monday night, or set aside time for an Improvised Music at Homewood Studios event. When that happens, I’ll be even happier.

For more on writing about free jazz, see Lyn Horton’s excellent article, “Shifting the paradigm and using ‘free-jazz’ to do it.”

Photos by John Whiting. Top to bottom: Paul Metzger; Adam Linz and J.T. Bates; Volcano Insurance (Polipnick, Chris Bates, Joey Van Phillips).

Kelly Rossum Quartet

When: 2/23/08
Where: Artists' Quarter
Who: Kelly Rossum (trumpet), Bryan Nichols (piano), Chris Bates (bass), J.T. Bates (drums)

In late February through mid-March, if you don't want to see Kelly Rossum, stay home. Starting with his quartet's two-day stay at the AQ, he's everywhere: performing with the MacPhail Jazz Faculty, with Ellen Lease and Pat Moriarty, running around (but not, I think, performing at) the Winter Jazz Festival, with Woody Witt at the Dakota, with the Jazz is NOW! NOWnet.

This is a great night at the AQ. Davis is at the door, the crowd is mostly attentive, and the music is as good as you'll hear anywhere and better than you'll hear in most places. See for yourself in this video taken by Don Berryman, newly rendered in high definition by YouTube. We were sitting with Don and Beverly so this is pretty much the same thing we saw and heard.



Also on the program: "Fly Away," "Seduction," a funky "Lead Soldiers," "La Vita a Roma," Nichols' "A Word from Our Sponsors" (with a big, bad solo by Chris Bates), "Majestic, Mighty Monarch of the Air," and two tunes from the not-yet-released Family, recorded by this quartet: "After the Snow" and the title track. Much of it was mellow and all of it was good.

Rossum is one of the few artists who regularly updates the performance schedule on his Web site.

Top to bottom: Kelly Rossum, Bryan Nichols. Photos by John Whiting.

Slide Huxtable

When: 1/10/08
Where: The Artists' Quarter
Who: Mark Miller (trombone), Dean Magraw (guitar), Chris Bates (bass), J.T. Bates (drums)

Brad Bellows says the trombone is not becoming more popular, but it seems that everywhere I turn these days, I run into a trombone (or one almost runs into me, if I sit too near the stage). Valves Meet Slide, the Dakota Combo with Delfeayo Marsalis, last year's Trombone Summit at the Dakota (Steve Turre, Fred Wesley, Wycliffe Gordon, guest Delfeayo...that was in June, a while back but so worth mentioning)...also in June, we went to the Stone in NYC and saw Chris McIntyre's 7X7 Trombone Band with (for real) 7 trombones and it was not too many.

Wisconsin native and founding member of the Motion Poets Mark Miller brought his trombone to town for three gigs with former bandmates the Bates Bros. and Dean Magraw standing in for regular Slide Huxtable guitarist Bill Bergmann.

We caught them at the AQ on a Thursday night. The crowd was sizable and appreciative, and the music was satisfying: "The Juggla," a straight-ahead piece by Ralph Peterson the group first heard on an Anthony Cox CD and have since made their own; Miller's "Salt of the Earth," the tune Kelly Rossum played for us during our Jazz 101 class and proclaimed his current favorite; a tongue-in-cheek, reggae-flavored "Whatever Lola Wants, Lola Gets." And just when I thought I had them figured out (SH is all about fun!) they gave us a beautiful ballad by Miller. He wrote it in 2000, the year two people dear to him passed away: his father and his trombone hero J.J. Johnson. "For J.J." is a work of aching loss. I've never heard a trombone sound so sad.

From there we heard a Magraw tune, "Anarchy," and "I Hear a Rhapsody." The first set closed with something Miller called "Fantasy in A minor, for lack of a better title." A big, serious piece.

The next day, Chris Bates sent an email saying "I think you heard some of the best music that Slide has ever played."

Watch Don Berryman's video of Slide Huxtable playing "Salt of the Earth."

Photo by John Whiting. That's Miller in front, with Chris Bates at the left and J.T. at the right.

The Return of Slide Huxtable

Kelly Rossum's current favorite CD: The Return of Slide Huxtable. Named for the episode of The Cosby Show in which character Cliff's dad Russell plays at a jam session (with the real Slide Hampton performing off camera), the quartet includes trombonist Mark Miller of the Motion Poets, guitarist Bill Bergmann, and the fabulous Bates brothers, Chris and J.T. With Dean Magraw stepping in for Bergmann, they are performing in three local clubs this week: the Clown Lodge (a.k.a. Clown Lounge, a.k.a. the basement of the Turf Club) on Monday, the Artists' Quarter on Thursday, and the Dakota on Friday (the late-night show).

If ever a club needed to update its Web site, it's the Clown Lounge/Lodge/whatever. (Clown Luge?) I checked and the last calendar update was 3/2/05.

Read a preview on Jazz Police.
Hear Slide Huxtable on MySpace.
The CD.

More Maude

When: 1/4/08
Where: Cafe Maude
Who: Michael Lewis (saxophone), Anthony Cox (bass), J.T. Bates (drums)

I really like Maude on Friday nights. It's open late, it's in my neighborhood, and the music is the kind that makes you do the Jon Stewart Headshake of Pure Amazement, where he flaps his lips and cheeks and goes "Huh?" I mean, seriously: Lewis, Cox, and Bates playing in a restaurant? Some people come for the food and end up getting slapped around by the jazz. By now Maude's antics are well enough known that others come because of the music. Tonight Lucia Newell wanders in, and James Buckley, and Scott Anderson, the manager of the Dakota, and Bryan Aaker, staff photographer for the Cedar Cultural Center. We sit with Mike's mom, Mary. I recognize some of the music but the only standard the trio plays (as far as I can tell) is "Alone Together," and I'm reminded that as much as Lewis blows sparks and fire, he can also play ballads that will break your heart.

Photo, L to R: Cox, Bates, Lewis. Taken with a flash near the end of the evening; it is not that bright in the restaurant.

P.S. Michael Lewis is next on my handmade hats list. Chris Bates, I need your cranial stats if you want a hat before the spring thaw.