Bill Carrothers' Armistice Band U.S. Premiere

When: 1/5/08
Where: The Artists' Quarter
Who: Bill Carrothers (piano), Peg Carrothers (voice), Jean-Marc Foltz (clarinets), Matt Turner (cello), Gordy Johnson (bass), Dre Pallemaerts (drums), Jay Epstein (percussion)

After previewing this show for MinnPost and reading Britt Robson's glowing article about in the Strib (which I would gladly link to here, except you'd have to pay to read it after three weeks) and Andrea Canter's piece on Jazz Police, I expected a crowd. In fact, it was SRO at the AQ, something that doesn't happen nearly often enough. Much of the audience was other musicians. Laura Caviani, Pete Whitman, Mary Louise Knutson, Phil Aaron, Chris Lomheim and his wife, Emily, Lucia Newell, James Buckley, Michael Lewis, Chris Olson, Mac Santiago, Miguel Hurtado, and Javier Santiago were all there—and those are just the ones I saw. We tried to imagine who was left to play piano gigs around the Twin Cities that night. Peter Schimke was at the Dakota; he came to the AQ after. Tanner Taylor must have been all over town.

Carrothers' Armistice 1918 suite was even more powerful in person than on the recording. We journeyed through optimism, death, and despair. While I love the more traditional piano-bass-drums trio, the other instruments—Turner's eloquent cello, Foltz's expressive clarinets, Epstein's limitless percussion array (which included a tart pan, beans in a bowl, goats' toenails, what looked like vacuum cleaner hoses, and something he later told me is called a Remo Spring Drum)—added great texture and dimension. And Peg's voice rose pure and clear above the music, even when it was buzzy and dark. Her version of "I Didn't Raise My Boy to Be a Soldier" was devastating.

As an encore, they gave us "And the Band Played On" in a spooky David Lynch version. It was perfect, and in response, we gave them a standing ovation. Which was small thanks for a concert so epic and virtuosic and satisfying that it should have commanded and filled a much larger space. I heard the band had approached other venues and been rejected; Armistice 1918 was judged too old-fashioned, too anti-war, irrelevant. I heard the Walker turned them down. I recently read an article about a dance series at the Walker (again in the Strib, sorry, no link) in which performing arts curator Philip Bither said, "We consciously did not want to go back. These are the artists you see in the future." Maybe to Bither, programming Armistice 1918 would have meant "going back," but to those of us who sat still and silent, taking in as much as we could, it was about as modern and immediate and forward-looking as music can be.

Bill Carrothers' Web site is the only place you can buy much of his music including Armistice 1918.

Photos, top to bottom: Carrothers, Foltz, Turner. Photo of Matt Turner by John Whiting.

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.

Something you might not know about Guitar Hero

Reading Oliver Sacks' Musicophilia: Tales of Music and the Brain, I came across this footnote on p. 95 (footnotes are required reading in books by Sacks): "It is not always easy or possible for children to receive musical training, especially in the United States, where music instruction is being eliminated from many public schools. Tod Machover, a composer and leading designer of new technology for music, seeks to address this problem by 'democratizing' music, making it accessible to anyone. Machover and his colleagues at MIT's Media Lab have developed not only the Brain Opera, the Toy Symphony, and the popular video game Guitar Hero, but Hyperinstruments, Hyperscore, and other interactive systems used by professional musicians from Joshua Bell, Yo-Yo Ma, and Peter Gabriel to the Ying Quartet and the London Sinfonietta." And here I thought Guitar Hero was just another time-wasting video game.

Tod Machover's Web site
Machover also saves old barns

MinnPost: Cafe Maude

This week's MinnPost is about Cafe Maude, where the food is tasty and the music (especially the jazz on Fridays) is not at all what you'd expect to hear in a fancy bistro in a sleepy southwest Minneapolis neighborhood.

The woman who books the music (who insisted on anonymity in the article, which got me into trouble with my editor) told me more about how she does it:

"I have a very particular ear. I'm bringing in people who are doing something different.... It also has to do with personality. Whose ego can handle that room? It's noisy. People have to be able to handle that.... I'm giving the clientele what I want, not what they want.... I know what I like. I'm trying to feature free jazz as opposed to straight jazz.... We thought we were going to hear complaints, that the music would be way too out. But everything we've brought in has gone over.... People think they're coming to dinner, and we bring them in touch with their soul."

It's risky, it's different, and I can't imagine any other restaurant in town doing it. Yet Maude is working—because of the music? In spite of the music? Or maybe the music is just sonic wallpaper for people who go because they've heard they should or they want to try something new. Who knows? Meanwhile, the prospect of seeing Mike Lewis tonight makes me happy.

Cafe Maude: Unlikely venue offers serious jazz on menu

Originally published on MinnPost.com, January 4, 2008

On a Friday night in early December, I stood at the bar at Café Maude waiting for a table. People were crammed three-deep around it, clutching their cocktails and jostling each other and eyeing those lucky enough to be seated.

Across the room on a small stage beneath a large painting by local artist Stuart Loughridge, two musicians were playing some serious jazz. I could barely hear them through the din. They weren't just any two musicians or the kind whose names you'd normally read on a restaurant chalkboard.

By the time we scored a table, the crowd had thinned enough that we could follow Michael Lewis on the tenor saxophone and pianist Bryan Nichols in their complex, rhythmic dance of melody and improvisation.

Lewis's other bands include Happy Apple and Fat Kid Wednesdays, among the most innovative jazz groups around. Nichols teaches at MacPhail, has performed at the Kennedy Center and is part of Kelly Rossum's working quartet. Neither is background music material. And their performance was about as far from smooth jazz as you can get without a passport.

Jazz on the menu

Since the doors opened last summer at this hot new bistro in southwest Minneapolis, owner Kevin Sheehy has been committed to serving good music along with very good food. Stroll in almost any night and you'll hear something interesting: music played or selected by DJ Howard Hamilton III, international music, experimental music, solo piano, soul-dub-Afro-beat.

But Fridays belong to jazz, and the lineup so far has been stellar: Lewis and Nichols, Adam Linz, Alden Ikeda, Chris Thomson, Dean Granros, James Buckley, Park Evans, Chris Bates, J.T. Bates, Anthony Cox, Gordy Johnson, Laura Caviani, Joey Van Phillips, Peter Schimke, and other top area talent who also play the Artists' Quarter, the Dakota, the Cedar and the Clown Lounge. Even Kenny Horst, who owns the Artists' Quarter and rarely plays elsewhere, packed up his drums and brought them to Maude.

As well as drawing hordes of diners, Maude has become a musicians' hang. After Matt Wilson and his Carl Sandburg Project performed recently at the Minnesota Opera Center, everyone went to Maude. Nichols and drummer Jay Epstein were already there, listening to the Enormous Quartet (Thomson, Evans, Bates, Van Phillips). Dave King and Reid Anderson of the Bad Plus showed up for a party on the Sunday after Christmas.

The woman behind the programming

The demographic on stage tends to be young and cutting-edge; at the booths and tables, it's more conservative and better heeled. Which is precisely the mix Sheehy and music programmer "Maude" have in mind. "Maude" prefers to keep her real name anonymous so that she isn't inundated with requests for bookings. She had such interesting things to say about how she works that I agreed to let her keep her anonymity.

People may come to Café Maude for the crab cakes, roasted corn chowder and quail with squash cheddar gratin, but they'll also get an earful of sounds that push the boundaries of what they're used to.

Some may find this uncomfortable. Others feel happy without knowing why. "Our mission is a bit subversive," says "Maude." "We're bringing strange music to a fairly straight crowd. This is our way of inspiring people."

It's entertainment, but it's also an education, she says. "When musicians give you something you haven't heard before, it makes your ear stronger for the future."

For a new restaurant to do a build-out, hire a creative and experienced chef, develop a menu that consistently wins raves, staff up, and win a liquor license in a neighborhood that initially opposed it, live music may seem like reckless splurge.

"Obviously it's one of those expenses we could cut," Sheehy says, "like our flower budget or some other thing if we were desperate, but thank God we're not. We'll do it as long as I can afford it."

Between now and April, during which Sheehy and "Maude" will both be traveling, the roster will feature artists that regulars have come to know: Tasha Baron and Liz Draper, Van Phillips, Lewis, a night with Linz and Ikeda and Tommy O'Donnell, an evening with Granros and Schimke.

Call in advance to get a reservation, or take your chances and just drop by. To avoid the biggest, noisiest crush, arrive late; the kitchen stays open until midnight, and last call is 11:50 p.m. The music lasts until midnight, too. "It's free," Sheehy says. "Come and see it."

What: Jazz on Fridays
Where: Café Maude, 5411 Penn Ave. S., Minneapolis
When: 9 p.m. to midnight
How much: No cover
Phone: 612-822-5400
Website

Upcoming picks

Bill Carrothers' "Armistice 1918" Band U.S. premiere: A native son brings home his magnum opus and French Grammy winner for two complete performances. The Artists' Quarter, 9 p.m. Friday, Jan. 4, and Saturday, Jan. 5 ($15). Read a preview on MinnPost, "First must-see of 2008: Bill Carrothers' 'Armistice 1918'"

J.J. and Beyond: Celebrating the Trombone: You can't have too much brass on one stage. Michael Nelson and Dave Graf celebrate the works and artistry of legendary trombonists, accompanied by Locally Damaging Winds, a jazz trombone ensemble led by Brad Bellows, and the Mary Louise Knutson Trio. Connie Evingson makes a guest appearance. Co-sponsored by the Twin Cities Jazz Society. Bloomington Center for the Arts, 2 p.m. Sunday, January 6 ($19).

Irv Williams' CD release: For the follow-up to his sublime "Duo" with Peter Schimke, the ageless saxophonist gathered a Who's Who of local greats (Schimke, Gordy Johnson, Kenny Horst, Loren Walstad, Gus Sandberg) and recorded 10 tunes including two originals. He calls it "Finality" but we'll see about that. The Dakota, 7 p.m. Sunday, Jan. 6 ($5).

Cafe Maude: Unlikely venue offers serious jazz on menu

On a Friday night in early December, I stood at the bar at Café Maude waiting for a table. People were crammed three-deep around it, clutching their cocktails and jostling each other and eyeing those lucky enough to be seated.

Across the room on a small stage beneath a large painting by local artist Stuart Loughridge, two musicians were playing some serious jazz. I could barely hear them through the din. They weren't just any two musicians or the kind whose names you'd normally read on a restaurant chalkboard.

By the time we scored a table, the crowd had thinned enough that we could follow Michael Lewis on the tenor saxophone and pianist Bryan Nichols in their complex, rhythmic dance of melody and improvisation.

Lewis's other bands include Happy Apple and Fat Kid Wednesdays, among the most innovative jazz groups around. Nichols teaches at MacPhail, has performed at the Kennedy Center and is part of Kelly Rossum's working quartet. Neither is background music material. And their performance was about as far from smooth jazz as you can get without a passport.

Jazz on the menu

Since the doors opened last summer at this hot new bistro in southwest Minneapolis, owner Kevin Sheehy has been committed to serving good music along with very good food. Stroll in almost any night and you'll hear something interesting: music played or selected by DJ Howard Hamilton III, international music, experimental music, solo piano, soul-dub-Afro-beat.

But Fridays belong to jazz, and the lineup so far has been stellar: Lewis and Nichols, Adam Linz, Alden Ikeda, Chris Thomson, Dean Granros, James Buckley, Park Evans, Chris Bates, J.T. Bates, Anthony Cox, Gordy Johnson, Laura Caviani, Joey Van Phillips, Peter Schimke, and other top area talent who also play the Artists' Quarter, the Dakota, the Cedar and the Clown Lounge. Even Kenny Horst, who owns the Artists' Quarter and rarely plays elsewhere, packed up his drums and brought them to Maude.

As well as drawing hordes of diners, Maude has become a musicians' hang. After Matt Wilson and his Carl Sandburg Project performed recently at the Minnesota Opera Center, everyone went to Maude. Nichols and drummer Jay Epstein were already there, listening to the Enormous Quartet (Thomson, Evans, Bates, Van Phillips). Dave King and Reid Anderson of the Bad Plus showed up for a party on the Sunday after Christmas.

The woman behind the programming

The demographic on stage tends to be young and cutting-edge; at the booths and tables, it's more conservative and better heeled. Which is precisely the mix Sheehy and music programmer "Maude" have in mind. "Maude" prefers to keep her real name anonymous so that she isn't inundated with requests for bookings. She had such interesting things to say about how she works that I agreed to let her keep her anonymity.

People may come to Café Maude for the crab cakes, roasted corn chowder and quail with squash cheddar gratin, but they'll also get an earful of sounds that push the boundaries of what they're used to.

Some may find this uncomfortable. Others feel happy without knowing why. "Our mission is a bit subversive," says "Maude." "We're bringing strange music to a fairly straight crowd. This is our way of inspiring people."

It's entertainment, but it's also an education, she says. "When musicians give you something you haven't heard before, it makes your ear stronger for the future."

For a new restaurant to do a build-out, hire a creative and experienced chef, develop a menu that consistently wins raves, staff up, and win a liquor license in a neighborhood that initially opposed it, live music may seem like reckless splurge.

"Obviously it's one of those expenses we could cut," Sheehy says, "like our flower budget or some other thing if we were desperate, but thank God we're not. We'll do it as long as I can afford it."

Between now and April, during which Sheehy and "Maude" will both be traveling, the roster will feature artists that regulars have come to know: Tasha Baron and Liz Draper, Van Phillips, Lewis, a night with Linz and Ikeda and Tommy O'Donnell, an evening with Granros and Schimke.

Call in advance to get a reservation, or take your chances and just drop by. To avoid the biggest, noisiest crush, arrive late; the kitchen stays open until midnight, and last call is 11:50 p.m. The music lasts until midnight, too. "It's free," Sheehy says. "Come and see it."

Originally published at MinnPost.com, Friday, January 4, 2008

New Year's Eve at the AQ

When: 12/31/07
Where: The Artists' Quarter
Who: Carole Martin (voice), Phil Aaron (piano), Tom Lewis (bass), Kenny Horst (drums); later in the evening: Dean Magraw (guitar)

Tom Surowicz previewed this event for the Strib: "If you like 'Come Rain or Come Shine' as much as 'Auld Lang Syne,' classy swingin' singer Carole Martin will once again bring in the new year with ageless tenor sax wonder Irv Williams. The faces in the crowd tend to be familiar from one year to the next, the ample snack foods are free with your cover charge, the usual party favors (hats, blowers, balloons, shakers) abound, and a comfy time is had by all."

If "comfy" means a warm welcome at the door from Davis Wilson, reasonable drinks, good music, and good friends, I'm all for it. Irv Williams double-booked himself at Il Vesco Vino and didn't show, and we all missed him, but Dean Magraw stepped in toward the end of the evening and the music was top-notch all night long, with Dawn Horst joining her mom Carole Martin on stage for several songs. The AQ is my favorite New Year's Eve destination. Long may its doors in the basement of the Hamm Building remain open.

Photo, L to R: Phil, Carole, Dawn, Tom, Kenny

Red Planet

When: 12/29/07
Where: The Artists' Quarter
Who: Dean Magraw (guitar), Chris Bates (bass), Jay Epstein (drums); second set: Gary Schulte (violin)

Strings and sticks, cymbals, skins, and gongs: no horns, no keys. Magraw, Bates, and Epstein play all over the Twin Cities in all kinds of configurations, but when they come together as Red Planet, it's a unique and wonderful sound. Much of what they play at the AQ is mellow and melodic, with the focus shifting from Magraw's solos to Bates and Epstein and back again, circling the stage. When they play a series of Coltrane tunes back-to-back, the only one I recognize by name is "Revolution." Schulte guests for most of the second set, and it's a glorious concentration of strings. Toward the end of the evening, when many people have already left (it's almost 1 a.m.), I realize the music stopped being about the audience long ago; not that we don't matter (we do) but Magraw, Bates, Epstein and Schulte have gone to that place where music has its own life and purpose in that particular moment, and it's pure creativity. They're four cooks in a kitchen, and we're lucky to be at the table.

Photograph, L to R: Magraw, Bates, Schulte, Epstein.