Mixtape for March 2023

1. Peter Frampton & Eric Clapton - While My Guitar Gently Weeps.  A somewhat unexpected take on this classic. Airy vocals, with which Frampton takes ownership of the song. And a tight, wiry and fiery dialogue of guitar solos. 

2. New Kids On The Block - Bring Back The Time (Ft Salt-N-Pepa, Rick Astley, En Vogue). A funny yet somewhat misfiring attempt at '80s nostalgia, as it never succeeds in fully utilizing its potential - and I am referring here to, for example, En Vogue's vocal skills, or simply to being a more memorable song, musically speaking. However, the video is funny (as it mimics some iconic 80s music videos), and the song, albeit fairly mediocre, is nevertheless somewhat of an earworm (despite it all) - and, of course, '80s nostalgia remains a fun thing to do.

3. Journey - Separate Ways (Worlds Apart). One of the music videos replicated in the NKOTB video; but what a great song  - and video! A song that begins with a "hard guitar," and then morphs into a rhythmic piece about... love relationships, and survival. All of this carried forth by Steve Perry's transcendent vocals. And a quintessential '80s vamp, strutting about throughout the vid.

   

4. King's Singers - And So It Goes. And now for something completely different: a sublime take by the masterful chamber group, on one of Billy Joel's most memorable songs. The musical peak of this here mixtape. 

5. Wolf Kati - Szerelem miért múlsz. One of Hungary's top (two) entries ever at the Eurovision Song Contest (next to the one from AWS). A very Celine Dion-like dance piece - in its fully produced, "radio edit" version; which would have finished much higher in the final rankings, if the live performance would have lived up to the quality of the recorded version. But the studio version remains a bop.      

 

    

BONUS. I am not familiar with the kid's show which originated this, but I remember seeing the character of Robbie Rotten (the tall fellow in matching striped pants and vest) as well as his clones circulating as memes, a few years ago; and I found them all (the characters, and the animation style) endlessly appealing. Be it as it may, this ska piece (from the show, and featuring RR) is sheer fun. 

An Advent Calendar: Day 15

Third Sunday - and Gaudete Sunday

On the third Sunday of Advent the people continue to call out and to await that the skies rain down the just one:

Rorate caeli desuper,

Et nubes pluant justum.

Drop down dew, you heavens, from above

And let the clouds rain the Just One.

- and, with verse three of the hymn, they yearn for the remission of afflictions, and for the liberation that will be brought by the coming of the Just One :

Vide Domine afflictionem populi tui,

Et mitte quem missurus es:

Emitte Agnum dominatorem terrae,

De Petra deserti

Ad montem filiae Sion:

Ut auferat ipse

Jugum captivitatis nostrae.

See, O Lord, the suffering of your people,

And send the One who was to be sent:

Send forth the Lamb, the ruler of the earth,

From the Rock of the desert

To the mountain of the daughter of Zion

That the same One may carry away

The yoke of our captivity.

[verse three starts, with refrain, at 1:03]

The third Sunday of Advent, however, is also Gaudete ("Rejoice") Sunday. Just like Laetare Sunday during the Lenten period, Gaudete Sunday "interrupts" what is otherwise a period of quiet and introspective expectation, with a call to joy. This is the joy of the coming Birth of the One, which is so great, that it penetrates, as it were, through the veil of time, and reaches back into the Advent period, going against the flow of time. The Birth has not happened yet, but the event that will happen seems to irradiate it joy both forward - and backwards - in time. Gaudete Sunday is thus a burst of the Joy of the Birth, within and into the Advent period of preparation.  

And Gaudete Sunday is also a reminder that this period of restrained, quiet, partly penitential ("prepare the way") introspection does not exist for its own sake, nor is it "the final thing." Just like Lent prepares the glory of Easter, and as the painful sacrifice of Good Friday gains its completion in the eternalized joy of the Resurrection, thus Advent is also a period that has a purpose, and meaning, in something beyond itself: in the luminous Birth. But, still, there is no Arrival without Awaiting and Preparation. and the Waiting and the Preparation are all for one purpose, to make that Arrival possible. 

"To rejoice," then! - and dancing is that most human expression of rejoicing in body and spirit:

An Advent Calendar: Day 9

As mentioned before, behind the windows of a typical Advent calendar one might find, depending on the type of calendar, perhaps a holy card, perhaps a quote, and perhaps a treat  - like a piece of chocolate. 

This is chocolate. 

A plethora of sources and influences intersect in Derek Trucks' (masterful) slide guitar stylings; from, obviously, the blues, to soul, to R&B. to gospel etc. The interrupted wailing, so human voice-like, as it shouts and cries out, and the crescendo and appasionato nature of this fragment, make it all so gospel-like, or gospel-reminiscent.

The full song, "Midnight in Harlem," from another performance by the Tedeschi Trucks Band, can be found (for example) here.    

"Happy Xmas", by Eric Clapton (album)

(2018, Surfdog / Polydor)

This is Eric Clapton’s first and only Christmas-themed studio album; the question then emerges, why this album, and why now? But let’s discuss that later. For now, let’s take a look at the album.

Produced by long-standing partner Simon Climie, together with Clapton himself, the album features a number of “usual players” – i.e. musicians with whom EC has worked and toured many times, and for many years now; these include Doyle Bramhall Jr. on guitar, Nathan East on bass etc. The album also features (on some of the tracks) a choir (backing vocals - by Metro Voices) and a string orchestra (I am not sure whom they contracted for that). Furthermore, it seems that Eric Clapton’s two young daughters also contributed their voices on some of the tracks (maybe on Jingle Bells?).

Since we talked about the presence of a string orchestra, and about Simon Climie, I would note that, at least at times, the album does hearken back (for me at least) to (one of my favorite albums) Pilgrim (1998). But since we are on the topic of style, let’s talk a bit about the overall style of the album at hand. From what I understand, Clapton’s main goal was to take certain songs - standards, i.e. Christmas, jazz, or blues standards - and to inject them with a bluesy inflection (if they did not possess that already, that is); in other words, a bluesy take on more-or-less standards, which is aimed overall (one would assume) at the general public. Indeed, that is - in general – what happens on this album.

As a whole, the album is a pleasant and enjoyable listen. At the same time, what stands out most for me is how it reflects both the wide and open horizons of Clapton’s musical interests and tastes, as well as his overall musical versatility.

Let’s look then at the particular styles "represented" on this album, remembering nonetheless that as a whole the album is indeed unified by that bluesy inflection we mentioned, and that it is (most probably) aimed for general consumption.

Broadly speaking (and categorizing), one groups of songs is represented by what could be called Christmas standards with that bluesy tinge. This group includes actual seasonal standards, such as Away in a Manger, White Christmas, or Silent Night, as well as a song by William Bell and Booker T. Jones, Everyday Will Be Like a Holiday. The latter is also one of the most sing-able songs on the album, with a very catchy refrain.

On the other hand, Silent Night is for me the least satisfying song on the album (maybe together with Jingle Bells, discussed below) –  mostly because in my view this song requires, by its very nature, a light-yet-solemn, dulcet and meditative, dare I say pious approach - and most often a choir, to achieve that. Instead, we have here a steadily-paced version, with a band and backing vocals, over which Clapton ad-libs “Silent night... etc.”. It is still light, and sweet in its own way, but overall it sounds too common, and much less interesting than it could have been (and, as mentioned, less true to the nature of the tune, as I see it).

The second category of songs could be called perhaps mainstream blues-pop. This group includes For Love on Christmas Day, composed by Clapton (with Climie and Dennis Morgan); the feel and lyrics of this song (“dying a little more each day / dying for love on Christmas day”) send us back to the melancholy-blue love songs of the album Pilgrim. A lovely piece, which is also the only original, Clapton-authored song on this particular album.  

I would include in this same group two tracks that are both covers of songs written, published and sung originally by Anthony Hamilton (and that appeared on Hamilton’s 2014 Christmas album) – namely, Home for the Holidays, and It’s Christmas. Interesting choice to remake songs that have been published so recently – but another indicator of how attuned and attentive Clapton is to contemporary music and musicianship, and to younger artists. And these are well-written songs which, one must say, are better produced and sound better on EC's album, than on the original. The style of these songs is closer to contemporary R&B and soul, and reminds me of Clapton’s collaborations with Babyface in the 90s (pointing out, again, at his openness toward this genre of music - soul - as well). Home for the Holidays is also one of the catchiest songs of the album - and the one that will imprint immediately, from the first listen.

The third group of songs leans more toward a pure, raw blues feel. This includes Christmas Tears (by Sonny Thompson and R.C. Wilson), which reminds me a bit of Clapton’s mid-to-late 80s discography – especially of his live albums. It is an enjoyable electric blues piece, which I would happily listen to at a bar. Merry Christmas Baby is, of course, a classic rhythm and blues song (by Lou Baxter and Johnny Moore) - a standard within its genre, which gets here a very bluesy approach, with a distort guitar etc. But perhaps the most “bluesy” song on the album is Lonesome Christmas (from Lloyd Glenn and Lowell Fulson, exponents of the West Coast blues), which is also the most “acoustic”-sounding piece on the album. Another thing that stands out about this song is its piano-intensive instrumentation, (which I greatly enjoyed); this might be explained by the fact that it was arranged by, and features at the piano, well-known Tulsa blues pianist, Walt Richmond (now aged 72).

Another category of songs, which I’d call EDM (yes, electronic dance music!), contains only one entry, namely Jingle Bells. Jingle Bells is probably one of the most challenging songs for a musician - namely, in terms of how it can be made “new and interesting” again. This is why an EDM approach could be just what the doctor ordered; I mean – go wild, if anything! Unfortunately, this dance version is much too tame, and somewhat blandly repetitive. Yes, EDM songs are repetitive in themselves, as genre - being made of programmed beats and chords, and their repetition (broadly speaking); however, this is exactly why all EDM songs are also spiced up by certain rhythm accelerations and drum swells that create a sort of "musical peaks", and that provide them with that exciting "plus factor".

What this version does have as a special feature is the presence (sampled? actual contributors? producers?) of African artists Salif Keita and Mafila Kante. But don’t be fooled – it is not as exciting as it sounds; it’s just that they provide certain African inflections and hooks. Another interesting aspect of the track - although not related to its musical features - is that the song is dedicated to the EDM artist Avicii, who died in 2018.

Overall, and nonetheless, this song does witness to what I was discussing earlier – namely, Clapton’s wide-open interests and wildly diverse (in the best sense) musical endeavors. (I have to mention here the entire album (!) of EDM (or electronic) music that Clapton seemingly published, under a pseudonym (and I guess working again with Climie), sometimes in the 90s or early 2000s; album that I could never find, or find more about, but which I would very much like to have and to hear.)

Another group of songs could be called jazz standards – not in the sense that all these songs are themselves so well known, as to be called "standards;" but because of their “style” - of “standard classical jazz”. Both songs (as well as one included in the “bonus tracks” category below) remind me especially of the Folks Who Live on the Hill track from the Old Sock album. (Unsurprisingly, because that song - "Folks..." - is in fact a jazz standard from Oscar Hammerstein II.) Again an indicator of the EC’s wide range of interests, musically.

This choice of genre also confirms for me a certain image of Clapton, today; that of the country (rural) gentleman, living out his life, at a settled pace, in Surrey, UK. I find this image (which I think is accurate) very comforting and reassuring.

From this album, I would include in this "jazz standards" group the not very Christmas-oriented, but overall holiday-fitting love song, Sentimental Moments (yes, that famous song, by film composer Friedrich Holländer). The other song in this category would be Christmas In My Hometown, which is a cover of a song by classic country artist Sonny James; but which, with the steady, settled pace of the version on this album, fits this “Jack and Jill, the folks who live on a hill” category.

A category perhaps closely related to the above-discussed jazz standards, and including only one song from this album, could be called orchestral pop, represented here by an arrangement of the standard Have Yourself aMerry Little Christmas. In fact, in this arrangement I could easily see it on a movie's soundtrack, perhaps over the final credits of a romantic comedy.

Finally there are – or there aren’t – two bonus tracks. There aren’t, because the US version of the album does not contain them, but they can be found on the European version, and also online. As usually with bonus (unlisted) tracks, less resources were spent on producing them, which means that they are less studio-polished, which – however - can confer them a certain directness and “realness” that is attractive. The first one, ALittle Bit of Christmas Love, is a “Christmas adaptation,” lyrics-wise, of a very upbeat and enjoyable hit by Roscoe Gordon. The second song would be a good fit (as mentioned above) in the "jazz standards" category (if I wouldn’t have included it in this “bonus tracks” category). I am talking about You Always Hurt the One You Love, which is a most enjoyable and pleasant song, originally from Allan Roberts and Doris Fischer.

This being the musical content of the Happy Xmas album (and what a British title!), the question arises, again – why this album? and why now? Was it released because Clapton had something specific to say? or was it because he is bound by contract to release a certain number of albums within a certain number of years (as it often happens); or is it because he wants to release albums periodically, just as such? or was it just a tool to make money? Or is it perhaps a combination of all these reasons and factors? After all, Christmas albums are in general a surefire way to sell albums!

The thing is, I am not really interested in the answer to this question. Moreover, I find frowning over work that an artist produces “in order to live” terribly hypocritical – raising expectations from artists that we ourselves do not meet, in our own professional lives and choices. 

Why would the artist have to starve (I am not talking about EC here - but in general), especially given today’s starvation-prone artistic climate? I am talking here about the overall situation in which real musicians find themselves nowadays, with so few venues and outlets, and so little exposure available. (This, of course, is not applicable to the handful of mass-produced and industrially-promoted pop superstars. No, I am talking about real artists - blues, jazz, classical musicians.) 

Such a dismissive attitude also betrays a deep lack of understanding of the condition in which artists have always found themselves, in fact throughout history (and I am not referring only to musicians). Underlying an artist’s creative peaks and extraordinary achievements (if any) is and was the daily struggle to make a living – to find clients interested in paying for the (always expensive) artistic endeavor, and to obtain a daily source of income. This was true for Michelangelo (and the arduous fight and trials related to obtaining and maintaining the costly commissions, that had to support him for decades, and that allowed for the production of one or two of the masterpieces that we know today), as well as for Haydn (Count Esterhazy’s court musician!): for Mozart, as well as for all those musicians that you hear playing night after night at the Memphis or Nashville bars (some of the few fora actually available nowadays for earning that daily bread). There is a certain romantic view of artists as starving bohemians on the banks of the Seine – which might have been true of the Impressionists, but is not a status that any of us aims for personally – well, not for the duration. In short, the “journeyman” quality of the life of the artist is also part of that specific artistic condition (Journeyman is, by the way, an Clapton album from the 80s). This is why - to make a long story short – I am not tremendously interested, right now, in the question of “why” he made this album.

Although it does remain true... that we inherently expect from music and from art to be “true”; yes, I do expect that, as well. And music that has something to say, through which the artist intends to communicate something personal and genuine, will always occupy an elevated place, and will remain with the listener, long after the album was played - and for years to come. This closeness of art, as a means of human expression, to truth – our desire for that – remain. But, at the same time, to ignore – as said – the “journeyman” dimension of the life of the artist, comes across as both ignorant and arrogant. So let us leave it at that.

What interests me here, in this case, of Clapton’s Happy Xmas album, is (1) that this is an enjoyable album; that (2), if not filled with memorable pieces, it has a few that one listens to, over and over, with pleasure (e.g. Home for the Holidays etc.); and (3), how it reflects Clapton’s musical versatility and multifariousness (which is an aspect of him that I greatly enjoy).

Finally - and as an afterthought, almost - I do appreciate that this album contains both purely "secular" songs (i.e. holiday- and love-themed), and songs that do express and make reference to the “Christ” dimension of Christmas. This aspect is also reflective of a certain wisdom, earthly and spiritual, which I think Clapton has accumulated - and is now living on, in his settled, calm family life, in Surrey. And I like that, as it is not often that one finds (even earthly) wisdom in the realms of stardom (to the contrary, more often than not what one finds behind the glittering doors of fame is misery and tragedy). So it is somehow comforting to find – as I think it is the case – someone who has survived the turmoil and tragedies of the life in the limelight (and EC’s life has had its significant share of these), and was able to settle in a wiser, better life, while remaining an artist.

With such (perhaps) comforting thoughts, a Happy Xmas to all!

Bric-à-brac for November '12

1. 500 Years from the Unveiling of the Sistine Chapel's Ceiling

The Delphic Sibyl (Cappella Sistina, Vatican)

On October 31st, the Eve of All Saints, the world celebrated 500 years from the finishing & first public showing of the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. It is as much a work of art as one of theology, a worthy emblem of the Renaissance but also a deep immersion in the history of salvation, a Biblical trip into history. The rest of the chapel is itself a celebration of beauty and faith, with walls covered in paintings by Perugino, Botticelli,  Ghirlandaio; when one visits it, the beauty of it all becomes apparent, even if it is the ceiling, and especially the creation scene there, as well the Last Judgment on the western wall, that are known by most.

You are invited therefore to make a virtual visit and delight in a panoramic view of the chapel (use the + and - buttons on the bottom left for the zoom function). To learn more about the paintings and the Sistine Chapel, you can visit this attractively slick multimedia guide, or go even more in depth with a dedicated page on the Web Gallery of Art (one of our favorite resources). And I should not forget to recommend the wonderfully balanced and realistic movie, The Agony and the Ecstasy (based on Irving Stone's homonymous book), which deals quite admirably with the relationship between art, history and faith.

2. Metropolitan Museum Catalogs  - Available for Free Download

Wonderful news from the Met, as they are offering their excellent art catalogs for online viewing or free download (in .pdf format). If you have been collecting them at second-hand shops or by rummaging through book sales, or if you have been purchasing new ones online, here is now a wonderful tool, which intends to gradually cover all their out of print materials. Browse and choose to your liking, from the MetPublications website. [notified by I Require Art]







3. Hibaku no Maria

One of the lesser-known facts about the bombing of Nagasaki is that it managed to destroy, in one coup, the largest Christian community - 22,000 strong - of Japan. What centuries of persecution and, in fact, of extermination policies did not manage to accomplish, the Allies did, in one strike. A powerful memento of this is the Hibaku no Maria (the "bombed" Mary), which is the remaining, scarred head of a sculpture of the Madonna from the destroyed Nagasaki cathedral. Learn more about the story of the statue, the history of Catholics in Nagasaki and in Japan, or just look at some additional images of the Hibaku no Maria, which has since become a powerful symbol of the senselessness of war and a message/messenger of peace (as the current Archbishop of Nagasaki explains in this video). [signaled by St. Peter's List]

Image: St. Peter's List

4. Dresch Quartet

Dresch Mihály, the saxophone- (and assorted reed instruments-) player & his quartet, with one of their typical, Eastern European folk- infused jazz pieces. Green and red lines on a canvas with folk motives.  

[BRIEF] I Hear Voices: Operalia 2011

Operalia is the voice competition founded in 1993 by Placido Domingo, which is organized every year in a different city. The 2011 competition was held in Moscow. In a public space in which singing competitions have become very popular, in almost all the countries of the world with a functioning TV market, from Albania to the US, it is refreshing to watch a competition where voice does indeed matter most. Most, but not completely - we are human beings, and Domingo's or Juan Diego Florez' or  Rolando Villazon's relative good looks certainly contributed to their star status - and we have not even begun talking about the many "divas" of the world of opera. However, it is a relief to see - or, rather, hear - a competition where the sheer quality of the voice and of technique matter most.    

What is it about singing competitions that catches our attention? One of the things is the music: we want to hear good music, to be entertained. Second, it is the competition as such - just like in sports, once you start getting acquainted with an athlete or a team, usually by virtue of the fact that they represent your local or national colors, you also become invested in the competition. From this point of view, the pop music competitions take the cake: they are superb at creating mini-background stories, which are truly barebones and aim the lowest common denominator (underdog stories, hardship stories), but also give a certain depth to the profile of the contestant, creating a person with whom we can associate emotionally, and for whom we can start rooting. This is why the initial selection phase is so crucial in these shows: besides being entertaining, through the sprinkling in of auditions disasters and of weird characters, this part of the show also establishes that essential initial relationship between viewer and competitor(s). This happens in shows such as X-Factor, Idol, or The Voice - shows created in specific countries (Netherlands, UK), but that have spread around the world. It also happens in the yearly Eurovision contests, but there the mechanism is that of national allegiance, since each competitor represents a country, and the public of each country gets to know them during the national phase of the selection.

In the video below one can see how the initial story and the initial emotional bond are created, during the auditions stage (of the X-Factor):

Of the contests listed above, The Voice gets closest - as the name indicates - to a focus on vocal quality as such, while American Idol is mostly a popularity contest, especially towards the later stages of the competition (and frustratingly so). In fact, The Voice (US version) is also refreshing because the very atmosphere of the show is much more amicable, and thus much more appealing, than the often abrasive Idol or X-Factor.

There is no use debating the fact that all these shows deal in pop music, which means that the voices sought and presented are the ones appropriate for that specific genre of music. Furthermore, even The Voice, where the initial selection is through a blind audition (a nice twist!), so that the judges (who are themselves pop artists) do not get to see the singers until they actually choose them, based on hearing - even this competition, then, is not and can not be entirely about "the voice." Or, more accurately, the pop genre itself is not about "voice" - as in, "a cultivated, fully developed voice," but about character and expressiveness within the expectations, conventions and the sonorous universe of the specific subgenre. We are talking about natural differences between various genres of music.

Take, for example, the difference between Andrea Bocelli and a true opera singer. Bocelli has a very pleasant voice, especially for traditional popular Italian music (like the canzoni napoletani) or for certain arias; but he is not an opera singer, which becomes evident in live performances with peers from the world of opera. He could be considered a cross-over artist, along the lines of what Josh Groban does so well. (The very talented Josh Groban, who possesses a very pleasant voice that he has cultivated with attention and through hard work.) But yes, each genre requires a different type of voice, and nobody would expect the beautifully crafted voice of an opera singer to fit in a genre that requires the cracked, world-weary sound of a bluesman (although unfortunate experiments in this sense have been made at the Pavarotti & Friends concerts, to give one example). Usually none of the singers comes out well from such experiments, unless a cross-over (bridge) is found where they can both be accommodated.

Different voices, different genres - not all equal...

Let us look, for example, at the winner of The Voice, Javier Colon; he has a truly exquisite, masterfully controlled voice, which is clearly at the top of his genre. A pleasure to listen:

The second-placed contestant in The Voice 2011, Dia Frampton, did not stand out with her vocal abilities as such. Yet she is a (multilaterally) talented young woman: composer, arranger etc., and the possessor of a voice with plenty of individuality. Here is, as an example, her very creative and quite unexpected adaptation of an otherwise banal rap song:

The next video, featuring Groban and Domingo, is not an example of an unfortunate pairing. The genre is cross-over, and the voices are top quality, each in their own field. Yet one can certainly notice the difference between these voices - of quality, depth, amplitude, control etc.

But we started by talking about Operalia, a competition with and about exquisite voices, with and about singing brought to the very highest levels of quality. Of course, this all happens within a genre that demands that quality, and a certain type of voice. Here is a video featuring one of the most impressive singers from Operalia 2011, Jaesig Lee, in a performance filmed two years earlier. (Before any accusations of "cheating" are brought up, regarding the choice of an aria, let me just say that this is one of the very few videos of him available on the Internet... as yet.)

I warmly recommend watching the entire final (concert) of Operalia 2011, available (for free viewing) here at medici.tv. You will not regret this time spent in the company of beauty.  (One more note: Jaesig Lee's outstanding, emotion-filled performance is at 00:53:13.)

Good audition!

Leonard Cohen, in concert

(at the Merriweather Post Pavilion , in Columbia, MD)
His features are sharper now, than the face to which we've grown accustomed. Yet his voice is - surprisingly - full, confident, and strong enough, and he uses it beautifully, even after a year of touring. He hasn't been on the road in about eight years; in fact, not many people expected to see him touring again; but this could very well be his last tour. He traveled the world, last year and this one, and finally got here, to the US. "Democracy is coming, to the USA."

I was late: traffic. The most striking thing, and the first thing that grabbed my attention, was that what was going on was something different from the concerts we know, from what we usually expect. It was the sudden awareness and remembering of the fact that he is a poet, first and foremost. Thus he addressed us - talked to us, recited, told, caressed us; his meaning, the meaning of him being there, on the stage, was to talk to us. As he himself affirmed, many times, Leonard Cohen is, first and foremost, a poet; then, a composer; then, a singer - in descending order of adeptness and comfort. I would add that his poetry is made for, and in, music; that he is a wonderful composer; that his poetic mode of expression, although based on words, is through music. He is, thus, a troubadour, in mind, in spirit, and in voice; this is the type of poetry he writes, this is the type of music he writes; as he writes on love, on things above and below, on loneliness, on encounters. And he doth travel the world. Therefore the night was one of a troubadour, who addressed us, who talked to us, sang to and with us.

As the night progressed, however, and as (some in) the public wanted to react in the familiar ways - the ways of the "show," so did his reactions change, too - slightly, in response. The learned ways of the show, of the concerts we know and usually attend, are that the stage is a self-enclosed world, and what happens in that world serves the functions of the spectacular, of virtuosity, even if containing some conversations between the members of the band; the aim is to generate entertainment that was paid for, by the public; the vague hope is that the reactions from the public might go as far as joining in, in feeling, in presence. But the two sides remain hopelessly apart, one expecting what it paid for - spectacular, entertainment, the other going its learned ways to produce that glimmer and show.

Or, if the concert is a classical one, we have a complex address that is put out there and hangs in the air somewhere between the orchestra and the public; and the hope is that the public will see it, admire it, and, in extra-ordinary occasions, partake of it, in this third object, in-between the orchestra and the public; an object so beautiful, so worked-out, so passionate, even. Yet the communication - it is never direct, between musician and public; in the end, the genre is not of such a nature, that it could actually constitute direct communication; the piece is already written, and it originates from someone else. The musicians execute it, participate in it, live it, even; then deliver it before us, and each of us - we might look at it, some might participate - and beautiful things do happen, that way; but it is a different genre, different from poetry.

But the poet, like Mr Cohen, must speak to you, otherwise he isn't there for the right aim, otherwise he is not, that evening, what he truly is. And so it is, that he is a troubadour. Thus, by virtue of this ongoing conversation, because of the music he made with us and for us, in conversation, his behavior did change slightly, accordingly; as some in the public descended towards the learned ways of the show, at times he (and they, on the stage) became more self-enclosed (yet only passingly); or, instead, he manifested a bit of cabotinage (no such word in English, unfortunately; clownery? second-rate, provincial theater?), of "show," yet even that, ironic, self-mocking, unserious. (The unspoken conversation that went on beneath the words and the songs; the need for show, albeit unspoken, was expressed, and was responded, with show.) But the clown is himself a troubadour; or, rather, the troubadour must be a clown, too, at times, as he sings about love, heartbreak, drunkenness, and laughter - even shrill.

And the band, just like Mr. Cohen, was (composed) of adults. So rare, nowadays, to have music (but it applies to contemporary art in general) that is by grown-ups, for grown-ups (which is not a function of biological age). Mr Cohen's poetry and songs age with him; one has only to listen through the recordings, over the years; and it is a beautiful thing. Years, they are what constitute him - not the moment.

And this was the second thing that I remarked, with gladness and relief: I saw the narrative. The concert had this soothing, healing character, therefore, because it had an underlying narrative. Not stories in songs, since they may be disjointed poetry; not a superimposed theme; but the narrative that was in him, and in some of the members of the band, in the poetry that is made in time, through time, and of time. It had a narrative, because it had time - age. No desperate quest for eternal youth, which is achieved through momentary (and thus despairing) grasps for the spectacular, or the hormonal. Thus the concert was soothing of the fragmentariness of this here American existence.

And what does this age, or narrative, mean, actually? It means something very un-postmodern: a continuity of feeling, an awareness of "the democracy of the dead and of the living" (to use G.K. Chesterton's words), a perspective on the moment that understands it with all that preceded it, and all that follows it. Healing attributes, then, of the ugly, insidious fragmentariness of the strip-mall, virtual, suburban, car-driven existence. The existence of public squares, and of cafés, to which one does not drive, but walks.

It was also a joy to see that he had a true, full band, to accompany him (really accompany him). The old Spanish Gypsy gentleman playing the "bandurria, laud, archilaud and 12 string guitar," with obvious relish and virtuosity, as if in the main square of a village in Spain, drenched in sun and drought (Javier Mas). Sharon Robinson, the aged (wine-like) lady in the backing vocals section , co-composer of some of Cohen's best songs, and duet partner on many other songs. A band surprisingly complete - I expected a trimmed-down, utility-oriented one; but no, they were individual persons, friends and long-time companions, musicians and singers; playing instruments ranging from the laud to the wind synthesizer, from real wind instruments to the Hammond.

An evening of poetry and music, with Leonard Cohen's troupe of wandering clowns, trapeze artists, old beauties and race horses.

[May 11, 2009]

P.S. I just learned that, "Due To Overwhelming Demand Leonard Cohen's Acclaimed 2009 World Tour Returns to North America," this fall, with a few concerts stretching the distance between New York and San Jose.