Norman Mailer on Ernest Hemingway

The February 12 edition of the New York Review of Books has a series of letters by novelist Norman Mailer to various people (parents, editor, critics). I thought it interesting that he was "a close reader of reviews" according to the footnotes, who "wrote many letters to reviewers and/or their periodicals over the decades." He also received "more than fifty years of predominantly negative reviews ... by [Henry] Luce publications," presumably because of his leftist beliefs.

Mailer wrote the following in 1952 to Lilian Ross of the New Yorker, who had written a profile of Ernest Hemingway in 1950:

I read the Hemingway thing [The Old Man and the Sea] with a chip due mainly to Hemingway's letter about it in Life. I know what it is about him I can't stand. He is always saying in effect I am a man who happens incidentally to be a great writer. I know that all of you will be interested in my noble, strong, and beautiful attempts to exercise myself as a great man, and will be happy when I succeed except for professors, other writers, and assorted cocksuckers.

Anyway, I thought it was good and would have been better if it hadn't been so full of shit. I thought the best thing about it was the conception of the story, but I just can't bear his prose. It sets my teeth on edge. At least Hemingway's prose of 1952 which has lost all of the simplicity it used to have. I think if he had written the story twenty years ago it would have been half as long and twice as good. Finally (and who will listen to me) I know that if I had gotten the idea and know as much about fishing as he did, I would have done it better, because it's the sort of story that needs only to be written without affectation, and I never would have made the mistake of assuming that Norman Mailer as a fisherman is more interesting than the Cuban fisherman himself. I feel very nastily competitive, but it's his own Goddamn fault. There's a kind of strong child (like my daughter) whose will one feels always forced to combat, and the end of it is to be as childish as the child.

The Cycle

Gig pending. Deadline due. Anxious fog. Go nuts, snap heads, practice feverishly, waste words. Get it done. Sleep. Relax. Surf. Vegetate. Garden. Read. Fidget. Worry. Unravel. Plan. Hustle. Despair. Agonize. Quit. Call. Email. Call again. Get assignment. Find cats for gig. Ink calendar. Research. Celebrate. Imagine. Envision. Postpone hobbies. Practice. Interview. Read. Scribble. Compose. Forget. Remember. Gig pending. Deadline due. Repeat...

Dilbert

Casa Valdez Blog: Tons of Useful Jazz Resources

Just wanted to give a shout out to a fellow West Coast musician blogger, saxophonist David Valdez, of Portland, Oregon. His blog, Casa Valdez, has been going strong for a few years, but it just keeps getting better and better.

He posts interviews, rants and raves about reeds (this evergreen topic has made me realize sax players are just as neurotic as singers), links to fake books, etudes and soloing tips, reharmonizations of standards, videos, recordings and much more. A great read -- not just for saxophonists. Dang, by posting this I may lose the cachet of being one of the few women (perhaps only one) reading his blog.

Hi Barack Obama!

Fans Say the Darndest Things: Old Dude Edition

As a performer, one seeks audience feedback during and after the gig to gauge success. The ego, however one might wish to detach from it, keeps tabs on the types of comments one receives. Random cute guy talking to me on the break while buying a CD? Niiiice. Woman praising my original music and asking for tips on developing her own style? Great! All too often, however, there are the old dudes.

While the use of a politically incorrect term such as "old dude" is bound to upset many of my loyal readers, I assure you it is the best way to describe anyone several decades my senior, often with a Santa Claus beard and belly to match, who enjoys an enormous mismatch between his self-concept as a hip chick magnet and his external appearance and, most likely, vocation.

Case #1. It's 11 pm and I am sitting outside a club on a bench on a break in Monterey, saving my voice and my feet for the next set and reviewing a sheaf of lyrics. I'm dressed to the nines. Out of the corner of my eye I spy a scrawny 60+-year-old man with a straggly white beard, very ZZ Top, and a white afro to match. He is sitting not on a Harley Davidson, but the next best thing: a bicycle with a banana seat and three-foot high chrome handlebars. After a few minutes, he rolls over to me.

"Excuse me. Would you like to smoke a bowl with me?" he kindly offers. "Ah, no. That's about the last thing I would like to do," I reply. "I'm a singer, gotta save the voice." As if smoking a bowl with this exemplar of arrested development would be top on my list at any other occasion. When I go in for the next set, I tell the other singer about it and say, "I guess I still got the magic!" "You're #$%@ irresistible!" she agrees, laughing.

Case #2. Again, on a break at a fancy corporate gig, a well dressed 70-year-old man with his shirt inexplicably open to his waist corners me and begins praising the show. We make small talk for a few minutes, and then he hits me with this zinger: "I've been admiring your child-bearing hips." "That's an AWFUL line," I say, for once reacting honestly rather than trying to laugh it off. What I don't say is what makes it so bad: The implied skipping forward 27 million steps to the impossibility of my bearing children for this dude. As I turn to leave he grabs my hand and won't let it go. He kisses it and says, "Will you forgive me my awful line?" "Gotta get back on stage," I say as I turn to run away. Again, I share this interaction with the other singer. "Wow, you get all the good ones," she says.

I post this as a public service, not to offend any old dudes out there, but merely to remind them to ask themselves before speaking to that performing artist they so admire: Am I 20 or more years older than she is? Is she dressed for a special event while I look like I've been gathering cans? Is there food caught in my abundant facial hair? Do most well dressed women react favorably to my offers to smoke pot with them on the street? Will I make comments on any of her womanly bits within the first five minutes of conversation?

If you've answered yes to any of these questions, be kind to a performer and stuff it.

Top 10 Rejected Money-Saving Tips for Musicians

1. Save on haircuts: For an edgy look, let your kids give you a trim!

2. To add variety to the show, train your cat to sit on stage looking bored.

3. Two words: Trick socks.

4. Ladies, let the girls do the singing, if you know what I mean and I think you do.

5. Food coloring and flour mixed into a tub of Vaseline creates inexpensive shades of makeup.

6. Bring all those life-size blowup dolls you have lying around the house as seat-fillers for your next concert.

7. Remember the Thigh Master? Rent out your piano as an amazing finger-exercise machine.

8. A scoop of Crisco is an inexpensive food extender that makes you feel fuller and look wider.

9. Act in abundance: Fill your billfold with Monopoly money and boast about your gig at Park Place.

10. Sell your wireless PA and use a megaphone instead. Duct tape makes it hands-free!

Q&A with Pete Douglas: 45 Years Booking Jazz at the Beach House

In 2007, I had the fortune of playing the Bach Dancing and Dynamite Society at the Douglas Beach House in Half Moon Bay, south of San Francisco on mostly misty Highway One. I had previously worked the venue singing in a short-lived 19-piece latin jazz orchestra. This time, I brought a full band: Wayne Wallace on trombone, Murray Low on piano, Jeff Chambers on bass, Charles Ferguson on drumset, Edgardo Cambón on percussion and Zareen on background vocals. We sold the place out. I’ve yet to repeat the gig, however -- even though I give owner and booker Pete Douglas an annual phone call or two.

If you’ve never been to the Douglas Beach House, it’s an experience. Done in distinctly 1970s-era diagonal wood panelling, the 200-seat room has gorgeous ocean views. The naturally lit performance space is on the second floor. On the first, there’s a cozy living space/green room with a piano and food and drink for the band. Depending on which band it is, it's a nice spot to watch sports on TV, play poker, practice, read, or indulge in more nefarious pastimes before the show. Douglas’s assistant, Linda Goetz, lives in the tidy apartment, but kindly vacates for the Sunday afternoon concerts. Identically framed promo shots, many signed, line the wood-panelled walls. For a jazz musician, the process of discovery as you look at the hundreds of greats who have played there over the years is glorious.

I drove down early to the gig, and was able to walk on the beach for an hour before the show in unusually balmy weather. During the show, Pete Douglas sat up front off to one side, running the sound and occasionally making comments in his signature pirate voice -- which can be disconcerting for the uninitiated. Though my show was a success even by his exacting standards, I distinctly recall him yelling out in the second set, “Come on, let the guys stretch out some!” My songs are tightly arranged, for the most part, due to a past aversion to endless solos, so on some tunes if you blink you may miss that 16-bar improv. Or that must've been Douglas’s take.

I called Douglas again a few weeks ago, and found him in an extremely loquacious mood. Though he turned me down right away for another gig in 2009, we continued talking. I began taking notes, and about halfway through I asked him if he minded if I turned this into an interview. “Hell no, I’m not afraid to have an opinion,” he said. “In three weeks I’ll be 80 years old.”

Q: What’s your booking philosophy?

A: I book for myself, because I’m on a musical adventure. If I have a hunch I follow it.

Let’s take music that I’m not that familiar with. I hired this Turkish Arabic group that put me right through the ceiling. They even brought a kudum player. The doumbek, it builds and it drives… Oh my God did he cook. All I could think was, I was listening to a jazz program.

That’s why Scott Henderson on electric guitar and Scott Kensey on keyboards was an experience for me in this room. It wasn’t a crowd jumping up and down half-stoned, it was artistry. That kind of music, you’ve got to move physically to it. If they want to stand momentarily you’ve got to let ‘em. It wasn’t just a power trip to get off, it was about what was going on inside the music. It was an education. I’ve had electric guitars before but nothing like this. Holy Christ, it was something.

Each time I have had a revelation of hearing every form of classical music, trad jazz, swing, bop.

Q: And latin jazz…

A: Latin jazz has been played since the swing era. Dizzy Gillespie really brought the latin rhythms into the bop scene. American music is really incredible! It’s the fusion of all these styles.

I’m on a musical adventure of what happened not just in the past but what is happening now. I’m not some good old boy who only listens to swing. Art Blakey taught me how to be a hard bop listener.

Q: Does your audience expect certain things?

A: A good audience has the freedom to let all that music in without having to be working at it. A good presenter should be the intermediate between the audience and the musicians -- wanting to be pleased, but at the same time being knowledgeable and prepared. As a presenter, you care about the environment they’re going to play in. All of these factors I’m ultimately very sensitive about. They come into this room, let’s get it right. This has been my joy and my role as a presenter.

I’m going on my 45th year at the same location. New generations coming up -- under 40 -- don’t really understand what this venue is. More specialized shows like yours actually made me more money than some of these groups that I hire. But money isn’t the issue, it’s the music. Nobody’s ever sat through what I’ve sat through over the years.

Q: So what’s special about the venue?

A: This room pulls people together -- musicians and audience -- like no place I’ve ever been. I go to Yoshi’s and am totally disappointed. I went up to see Ledisi. The way they mix the band is so loud. She’s screaming over it.

Q: What about sound engineering at BDDS?

A: I’ve had to learn the hard way about getting it mixed right. Often I couldn’t afford to have pros mixing here. But I have ears for jazz so if I put on swing then I know what swing should sound like. You don’t have the bass player drowning out everything else. Yet you can have a really hard bass player with an edgy bop group. I work hard in making sure that the sound mix is good.

Many times I didn’t do as well as I might have. I learned the hard way through the years. I work the sound board much of the time after the soundcheck. I mix it according to my ears, not by dials and lights and all that shit on the soundboard.

Q: Do you have a bias for East Coast artists?

A: Yes, and I’ll tell you why. Los Angeles is the home of pop culture. It’s produced for movies and CDs and worldwide consumption. New York is more the performing arts capital. Most of the agencies are there. You’ve got the Berklee School of Music in Boston. In New York, more people go to music with a more critical ear, and there are more indoor activities than in California.

There’s a little old lady in New York who plays violin, Mrs. Bloom. She went over and saw a barge in Brooklyn. She got an idea: Wouldn’t it be nice to build a little shack on the barge and we’d have classical chamber music? It’s called barge music. It doesn’t hold over 50 people. She’s in New York City with so many musicians there -- she has the cream of the crop. She’s doing what I’ve been trying to do all these years. She’s so well located -- not in Half Moon Bay like I am.

It’s a story in itself how this venue grew up in Half Moon Bay. No one in the media has ever come down to me and said, “Pete, you’ve presented Earle ‘Fatha’ Hines and Teddy Wilson and McCoy Tyner… How come you’ve lasted this long?”

Q: How did you come to Half Moon Bay, of all places?

A: I’m an L.A. beach boy, and I took a job up here as a probation officer. I was unhappy with my life and my marriage. To make a long story short, I said, “I’ve got to get back to the beach.” I drove out to Half Moon Bay and saw this shack. I bought it in 1958 for $8,500. It started out as nothing but a jam session.

By 1965 some of the guys said, “We’ll build you a home right in back of the beach house.” We then were incorporated as a nonprofit. We had Cal Tjader, Vince Guaraldi, John Handy, all those people performing here. By the time I turned 40 years old, I said, “OK, are we going to get serious about music here?” So we built a concert room, where you have been. I built that in 1971.

I’m known in New York as the artichoke circuit. I have to rely on them getting out here for some other concert. I’m an en-route gig.

Q: What changes have you seen in music over the decades?

A: Forty years ago there wasn’t as much product out there. People used to go out more to live music. Recently I was looking at all the theater listings in the San Francisco Chronicle. Live music is less exciting to people. There’s not enough buzz around it. There isn’t a new thing to bring people in. And there is so much advertising with so many people demanding our attention.

Thirty or 40 years ago there were local reviewers in SF who drove out and reviewed the venues. They weren’t afraid to go in and say, “The sound sucks.” We had more people paying attention to music in general.

Q: Do you have advice for those of us slogging through performance careers?

A: It’s not necessary to keep coming up with what’s trendy, it’s necessary to hone your art. The word gets out slowly. But there was a community around jazz before. Back in the 60s and 70s, I could send out a music program, about 1500 programs, and the word of mouth was great. There were columnists in the city [San Francisco] who would review someone before the weekend. Now you don’t have those kinds of advantages.

Q: Do you prefer instrumentalists?

A: Look at all the vocalists I’ve presented: Claudia Acuña, Mose Allison, Karrin Allison, Ernestine Anderson, Dee Dee Bridgewater, Betty Carter, Faye Carol, Dena DeRose, Lorraine Feather, Nnenna Freelon, Jon Hendricks, Etta James, Etta Jones, Irene Krall, Carmen McRae, Anita O’Day --

Q: When was Anita O’Day? I saw her singing live in SF when she was quite old.

A: She was in her 60s.

Q: How do you choose singers for your venue?

A: Right now, do you know how many CDs I have sitting in front of me from singers? I have 30 CDs from singers. I booked [Canadian singer/pianist] Carol Welsman. She’s good, but no better than 100 others. But she’s got Peggy Lee down solid.

Peggy Lee is the only pop singer I like. She was the hippest pop singer around in her day. She brought the cool into singing, not belt ‘em out. [Half singing] “I know a little bit about a lot of things but I don’t know enough about you” and real dark things, [half singing] “Is this all there is?” She was the thinking person’s singer. Carol Welsman is going to do an all-Peggy Lee program on the 15th of March.

Q: Great, I’ll let people know about it! Is there anything else people should know about you?

A: There’s lots on the Bach Dancing and Dynamite website. Have you read my Ruminations of a Music Presenter?

Q: No, but I will! Thank you for talking with me, Pete!

Tale of Two Hats: Ellen vs. Aretha

There is no question Aretha Franklin wore it better (though it is funny that Ellen DeGeneres wore one today)! I am a crazy hat lady in training, and I actually said to my husband as Aretha was singing that I loved her hat. Come on, people. The style was churchy and flamboyant, while the color made it more somber. Entirely appropriate. And who better to sing "My Country 'Tis of Thee"? One of many moments that made me cry. It must have been hard to sing first thing in the morning, though, and in the cold.

It was fun to listen to some of the punditry this morning on the radio -- all the noise and chatter makes you savor the feeling of national togetherness, the spirit of service and change and competence and diplomacy and justice that is renewed by the election of President Obama. But then you just gotta turn it off and get to work!

Vote for the Green Roof!

My parents' house (#3) is in this "competition" on Huffington Post for best green roof:

"Sod roof on a straw-bale house built in 2007 at Blue Oak Farm, seven miles southeast of Marshall Gold Discovery State Historic Park in the Motherlode of California. No air conditioning needed (none installed) in summer with temperatures routinely over 100 F, wood fire keeps 1,800-square-foot house cozy in winter."

Register Now for 2009 Oakland Feather River Camp!

I will reprise my role as voice teacher, singer, repertoire coach, chief percussionist, mistress of keyboards, inspirational eater, hiker and mom this year at Oakland Feather River Camp, during Family Garage Band Week, July 12 - 19. Call 510-336-CAMP (2267) or fax your form to 510-601-1595. Details are posted at www.FeatherRiverCamp.com, where you can print the registration form from the site. If you register by January 31, 2009, you'll receive the 2008 rates!

I just received this lovely note from Lily Kaplan, the executive director of Oakland's historic city camp outside Quincy, California in the Plumas National Forest. I thought I'd share it:

From the Executive Director

Happy New Year Campers!

As I look ahead, 2009 holds great promise for us here at Oakland Feather River Camp, and after watching the inauguration of our 44th president I'm inspired by the vision that Obama laid before us of service, social justice, and shared spirit. Though the daily news is full of daily doom, I think that there is a great potential for silver linings in the clouds above our heads. As far as I can tell, the sky is definitely NOT falling!

As our culture undergoes a great shift we have a chance to re-evaluate what is most important to us ... and to choose more carefully how we spend our precious resources. Whether those resources be time, money, energy or gasoline we seem to be making more cautious and considered choices at this time in history.

The dialogue of the day revolves around safety, stability, and security and the whirlwind of fear is filled with thoughts like, "what is going to happen next??" As a result, do we choose to tithe as we did last year or are we holding on more tightly? Do we invest in our youth or are we pulling ourselves back inward? Where do we find the grounding to help us hold steady as the winds blow us about? The fear is there to grab us up in a heartbeat. In some places the anxiety levels are soaring, yet in others a sense of hope and possibility abide. Here in Oakland we are tested to find our resilience as we face budget deficits, a community seeking justice, and a city struggling with issues of violence.

And yet, I believe in the people of Oakland. The first thing I noticed, the first time I went to Oakland Feather River Camp was the wonderfully interesting community of people that I met there. Somehow I was surprised to discover that nearly everyone I met was a neighbor. Or felt like a neighbor. Although not every single person at camp was from Oakland, most were, and I found an experience of connection and pride there that is rare and special.

I've learned, over the years of going to camp that this symbiosis comes from what I think of as the magic of place. The magic of Oakland Feather River Camp and the sacred Maidu land upon which it sits helps us to let down the defenses we wear in the city. The community of camp creates a safe place where, though we may be different in appearance, ideology or creed, we are able to connect with one another in ways that feed the spirit and the soul.

I hope that in 2009 more Oakland residents, especially YOUTH, find that pride and connection to Oakland as they discover their community up at camp and expand their Oakland identity to include Quincy or Plumas National Forest. This is the promise I see as I look forward into 2009. I see a continuing growth of community at Oakland Feather River Camp, particularly for our youth.

As we prepare to host the Fourth Annual Camp Kick Off & Ice Cream Social [on January 31] with the Silent Auction Fundraiser to benefit our Youth Programs, I hope that you will join us!

And, as always, I look forward to sharing camp with you this summer.

Fondly,

Lily

From President Obama's Inaugural Speech

For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness. We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers. We are shaped by every language and culture, drawn from every end of this Earth; and because we have tasted the bitter swill of civil war and segregation, and emerged from that dark chapter stronger and more united, we cannot help but believe that the old hatreds shall someday pass; that the lines of tribe shall soon dissolve; that as the world grows smaller, our common humanity shall reveal itself; and that America must play its role in ushering in a new era of peace.

To the Muslim world, we seek a new way forward, based on mutual interest and mutual respect. To those leaders around the globe who seek to sow conflict, or blame their society's ills on the West: Know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy. To those who cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, know that you are on the wrong side of history; but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist.

To the people of poor nations, we pledge to work alongside you to make your farms flourish and let clean waters flow; to nourish starved bodies and feed hungry minds. And to those nations like ours that enjoy relative plenty, we say we can no longer afford indifference to suffering outside our borders; nor can we consume the world's resources without regard to effect. For the world has changed, and we must change with it.

Here is the text of the entire inauguration speech.

Adventures in Gigging: Nudist Colony

ME: Well, after a lot of phone calls this week, I got one gig that I just had to tell you about. I saw an ad for a resort booking a music festival, so I sent them my standard email. They got right back to me and said my music was amazing. But the gig doesn't pay. Just a tip jar, dinner and the "opportunity" to sell CDs.

MUSICIAN: Hate when that happens. False advertising.

ME: I know! Why don't they save me some time by saying up front it's a nonpaying gig? There should be a rule on Craigslist about that. But here's the funny thing about the resort: It's clothing-optional!

MUSICIAN: A nudist colony? Why didn't you say so?

ME: Well, I thought to myself maybe my husband would want to go. He's said for years he wanted to go to a nudist colony. Here's our chance, all expenses paid! They said they'd feed us and let us use the hot tubs.

MUSICIAN: So are you going?

ME: No. When I told my husband he said, "We don't need a vacation, we need money!"

MUSICIAN: So have you turned down the gig?

ME: Nah, haven't gotten back to them yet.

MUSICIAN: Then let's do it! I'll do a duo with you!

ME: I bet you would.

MUSICIAN: Come on now, think how you could start off 2009 with this great gig at a nudist colony. That's what I call starting the year off right!

ME: You know, we don't PLAY nude, it's just the audience that's nude. Or partially nude.

MUSICIAN: Yeah, and then after we can sit in the hot tub.

ME: Yeah, right. And stay overnight in the yurt they provide.

MUSICIAN: They provide a yurt? This is getting better and better.

ME: I can only imagine doing a jazz gig at this place.

MUSICIAN: I would love to go to a nudist colony. I've been to a swingers party.

ME: Thank you for sharing.

MUSICIAN: I'm just saying...

ME: You know, it's not a sexual thing. These are just people who don't like clothes. And I know what you're thinking, but I would bet you $100 there isn't a single good-looking woman -- or man -- under 50 there. Or over 50.

MUSICIAN: So would you feel comfortable playing in the nude?

ME: I told you, the band doesn't play nude. But no, not really. Would you?

MUSICIAN: Afterwards, I'd tell everyone, "I love gigging with Alexa. She's so free. It's like she's getting it all off her chest."

ME: She doesn't keep her talent under wraps.

MUSICIAN: On stage she's so ... bare.

ME: I'm ending this conversation before you get yourself too worked up.

MUSICIAN: OK. Don't cancel that gig. In fact, give me the booker's name. I'm going to go do it myself.

Yoshi's Artistic Director Peter Williams on the Booking Format Change

This Saturday's San Francisco Chronicle reported the hiring of a new booker and a change in format for the SF Yoshi's club, opened in 2007. Owner Kaz Kajimura has hired Bill Kubeczko from Minneapolis' Cedar Cultural Center to book San Francisco with an assortment of non-jazz as well as jazz acts. Noting his absence from the Chronicle piece, I decided to call Yoshi's Oakland artistic director Peter Williams for his take on the situation.

Williams has been Yoshi's artistic director for nearly 10 years. Prior to his current post, he was executive director of the Tucson Jazz Festival. A very busy man, he took a few minutes to chat with me by phone today:

When did it become clear that the new San Francisco club was "cannibalizing" the Oakland audiences (to quote Kajimura)?
It was a bit of a worry about the two clubs from the beginning. But in the last year, if we had the same band playing in both the Oakland and SF clubs, Oakland was just getting killed.

Are there ever surprises such as a major-label/well-known artist drawing poorly?
I don’t want to name names, but some real superstars didn’t do as well as they should have if it were a normal year.

So if it was 1997, two clubs would be no problem?
Or 2001, it wouldn’t be a problem.

Yeah, remember when everyone in the Bay Area was a millionaire?
I wasn’t, but I do remember that.

I wasn’t either. So how will the clubs differentiate? Will it be a question of percentage of non-jazz shows?
Oakland will be more of the jazz club, and San Francisco will be doing other things. The jazz had definitely been watered down in Oakland in the last year. This is going to make my life a little bit better. I’ll do occasional world and salsa shows at Oakland, but this will be the jazz club.

The guy that’s coming in [Kubeczko] has good eclectic tastes and he’s going to be doing new stuff, but I don’t think we’ll be going toe to toe with the Fillmore.

Do you think a booker's taste is an important success factor?
[Pause] It's kind of a weird question. Yes, I do.

What changes in your booking process in a recession?
There have been times when people were more apt to take a chance to take on a new band. Right now it’s more difficult for me to bring in untested artists. We have an in-house promotion and marketing team, but a new artist will need to do a lot in addition to that.

But I’ve noticed more local artists recently.
Lately there have been more local artists because we’ve shortened the run of national artists from four to three days.

Both due to the economy and the economy of jazz?
Both.

Have you heard any feedback that this format change for Yoshi’s SF is another nail in the coffin for jazz?
We’ve gotten a couple of emails from people who were disappointed. I’m sure there will be more [as the news spreads].

Do you get letters anyway from diehards who say “How can you book this or that band, they’re not jazz?”
Yes, it’s pretty much par for the course.

Thank you for talking with me. Just a caveat ... I hope my wearing my journalist hat doesn't dissuade you from booking me in the future as a jazz musician!
That, or wearing your marathon runner hat!

The Angel Island Trail Race

I am still basking in the glow of Sunday's event: a 16k (10 mile) trail run on Angel Island in the San Francisco Bay. We drove out to tony Tiburon in Marin to take a very short ferry ride over to the island. As we approached, I looked apprehensively at the height of the island's main peak -- because we were planning to race to the top of it! The weather was warm, calm and sunny. I recognized the beach and harbor from my childhood -- for a time we had a sailboat and used to anchor there and stay overnight. It has been decades since I've been to Angel Island, however. When my running group added this race to its training schedule, I thought, "What a wonderful excuse to go!" My boys were thrilled as well.

The 16k race (there was also an 8k and a 25k) consisted of two loops around the island, the second climbing 1,380 feet to its summit, Mt. Livermore. At the last minute I decided to change into shorts and leave off the gloves -- a good call as it was plenty warm enough. We took off at about 10:45 and right away hit flight after flight of stairs going straight up the hillside. We were going single file, so there was no choice but to walk them. We continued winding up the hill on a narrow trail, switching back and forth. I began passing a few people but my game plan was pretty low-key -- lately I've been feeling slow and I wasn't in the mood yet to push myself. I also am highly influenced by the runners around me and was in the back half of the pack, so I ran most of the first half of the race conservatively.

We finally broke out of the narrow trail on to a high perimeter road. The vistas were incredible, and as we ran new angles of the Bay were continually revealed, beginning with the Northern stretches and the Richmond-San Rafael Bridge. There was a bit of haze so I couldn't see Mt. Diablo towering over the East Bay, but then there was the gray Bay Bridge and then San Francisco, with its perfectly straight hill streets gleaming in the sunlight, as if silver bands had been carefully drawn and spaced with a ruler all the way down to the waterfront. Next we saw the Golden Gate. As we circled the island, it was time to switch back down the hillside. Thus far none of the run had been too grueling, but I again was taking it easy. However, downhills are my forte, and as we ran down I began passing a few runners with ease. When I reached the aid station back at the harbor I threw off my vest and lingered, getting a full bottle of sports drink and choosing from all the energy goodies (candy, boiled potatoes, gummy bears, bananas, oranges, etc.). I settled on some jelly bellies and a quarter peanut butter and jelly sandwich -- perfect, as I eat those all the time.

As I approached the flights of stairs for the second time, I was moving rather slow, still conserving. Little did I know what lay ahead! Once we completed all the switchbacks to the open perimeter road, we took another trail with even more curves. At this point I began a regular jogging rhythm and decided I would not stop and walk. I passed a few people, eventually settling behind a tall, slim, younger woman (at least she looked younger from the back) who I decided must be a better runner than I. We reached what I thought was the summit, but no: THERE was the summit, impossibly higher, with tiny figures of runners on it! "You've got to be kidding!" I said out loud. We continued running, only now every so often we stopped and walked for 30 seconds or so, me taking my cue from the woman in front of me. She had brought her camera and took many pictures as well.

If the vistas before had been incredible, these were even better. "It's like being on top of the Bay!" I enthused to a woman running downhill past me. "You're almost there," runners began telling us. We continued nearly straight uphill, running most of the time, and finally, there we were! I stopped and meandered, and then a race organizer, as if reminding me, said "When I run this race I always want to stop here and look around, but then I remember that I'm running a race!" Still, I wanted to soak in these 360-degree views. Some men asked if one of the bridges was the Carquinez. "No, you can't see that from here. That's Richmond-San Rafael," I said, feeling knowledgeable. Time to start running downhill. I took off, with my tall runner still in my sights, some way down the hill. As we passed runners coming up, I'd shout encouragement as others had done for us. I had to remember to stop after awhile -- I was still saying "You're almost there!" when I realized the runners coming up had a long way to go yet!

The tall girl and I were mostly alone as we began a flat trail, very high on the Southwestern side of the island. There, the earth was red and remnants of the October fire were visible in the form of blackened, leafless shrubs -- perhaps manzanita. It was like a martian landscape, except for the trees and spectacular blue Bay below us.

Eventually, this flat trail ended, and now we returned to the same descending forest trail we'd come down on the first loop. Slowly, without even trying, I began closing in on the tall girl. After a few minutes, she asked if I'd like to pass her. "Thanks!" I called as I rushed past. Suddenly, I felt competitive, and fleet. I guess I have sure feet, as our coach, Claire, said she has. This time, I decided to push myself. One at a time, I passed runners, until I finally came to a clump and had no choice but to stay behind them. I could hear cheers down below. After a while, the man in the back of the clump moved aside and I passed through all five runners. "I'm a gazelle, pick up my feet," I told myself. As I reached a flat expanse of road, I tried to stay focused -- I always slow down on flat road. But I was almost there. On the last turn and straightaway, Emilio called to me and took a picture.

I came through the chute with a time of 1:45, or 10:27 per mile. That turned out to be 8th place in my age group and 54th overall. While I know I could have gone faster and pushed myself more, maybe to around 10 minutes per mile, I felt like it was a respectable finish. As it happens, Claire won the race for the second year in a row at less than 8 minutes per mile! In fact, our training group had a number of age-group winners and overall fast finishes.

I woke up with very sore quads, but the most beautiful thing this morning was lying in bed and visualizing all the vistas over and over again. A few years ago, I made the new year's resolution of seeing more and more of my beautiful native Bay Area. In fact, after I finished, I spoke with a man who was waiting for his wife to finish the 25k. They had three small children, two in a giant side-by-side stroller. "I wanted to run it too but we couldn't find a sitter," he said. But he was enjoying the whole outing, as my family did. "I've lived here for 19 years and I've never been to Tiburon or Angel Island," he said. Turns out he and his wife had only started running about a year and a half ago. The next race was the Death Valley marathon in February, "for her birthday."

I love meeting people like that, and I definitely want to do this race next year. Heck, maybe I'll even do the 25k!

Yoshi's SF Broadens Booking Format

I'd heard after my November Yoshi's Oakland gig from Peter Williams that he was no longer going to be booking both the flagship Jack London Square location and the San Francisco club (opened in late 2007 as part of a Fillmore district revitalization plan). Apparently, business at both clubs has plummeted 20 percent over the past year. Yoshi's owner Kaz Kajimura is quoted in today's San Francisco Chronicle as saying "Yoshi's San Francisco was cannibalizing Yoshi's in Oakland."

Closing one of the locations was a possibility, according to the article by longtime music critic Jesse Hamlin, but an emergency $1.5 million loan will keep the costly SF club open, along with a plan to diversify the types of bands playing the 450-seat venue. Kajimura has hired Bill Kubeczko from Minneapolis' Cedar Cultural Center to book SF:

Kubeczko, who programmed a wide range of music and dance in nightlife-rich Minneapolis, had been hearing musicians like guitarist Bill Frisell rave about Yoshi's for years. "It's got an international reputation," said Kubeczko, a 53-year-old from Chicago who knows his blues and jazz but also grew up on the San Francisco sounds of the Dead, Quicksilver Messenger Service and Mother Earth. Since moving here a few weeks ago, he's plunged into the local music scene, ears open to fresh talent.

Kubeczko, who wants to shift the programming gradually, has booked the Portland-based Irish musician Kevin Burke for Tuesday and the French Gypsy-klezmer band Les Yeux Noirs the next night. Next month he's bringing in Morocco's Master Musicians of Jajouka, led by Bachir Attar, and Nation Beat, a Brooklyn band that mixes up Brazilian grooves, New Orleans funk, Nashville fiddling and whatever else strikes it. Other artists he'd like to book for multinight runs include Bruce Hornsby, Doc Watson, the dancing Senegalese singer Baaba Maal and the Langston Hughes Project.

This is news that may upset Slim's, the Fillmore and Cafe Du Nord, all of which book more diverse acts than just jazz. [Redacted to protect author's performing career: comment about quality of music at some of these clubs] Kubeczko says he wants to cooperate with those venues and revitalize the local economy for all. But it's also sure to be taken poorly by jazz aficionados who may view this as yet another instance of jazz being blamed for overall poor turnout for live music events.

Vocal Rest and Restaging: Gems from Singer Mary Martin's Bio

I'm reading (skimming) a biography of Mary Martin by Ronald L. Davis. Hers is a voice I have always loved, thanks to my mother's tradition when we were growing up of putting on the soundtrack of "South Pacific" and singing along as we cleaned the house. "It Never Entered My Mind" (not from "South Pacific") and "I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Outta My Hair" are two songs no one does better.

Apparently, Martin was fairly happily married to an alcoholic who nonetheless was her total champion and managed every aspect of her life so that she could concentrate on her stage performances. She also left her young son, the Dallas TV miniseries actor Larry Hagman, in the care of her mother while she went to Hollywood and then New York in her early 20s (she had had him in her first, brief marriage). Hagman held this against her for many years, but they did become close later in life.

Three interesting tidbits thus far: First, while she was performing five or more nights a week on stage, she would spend her weekends in utter silence. She avoided interviews or parties completely so that she could rest her voice by not speaking. I wonder, as a singer who knows the toll talking (especially talking loudly in a club!) takes on the performing voice, how many singers still follow this advice.

Also, her voice was naturally a soprano, but got lower over the years (as many popular singers' voices do, mine included). She went through several extensive periods of study in which she remodeled her voice, and learned to insist on performing no fewer than four songs in an audition: High soprano, blues, rhythm and a naughty/sweet character piece like "The Weekend of a Private Secretary" (which led, after an audition with a bed-ridden Cole Porter, to "My Heart Belongs to Daddy").

Finally, I was interested in how the 1949 hit musical "South Pacific" evolved onstage. On opening night...

[Ezio] Pinza scored such an enormous hit with "Some Enchanted Evening" that the show couldn't continue for several minutes. To everyone's surprise, neither "I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Outta My Hair" nor "A Wonderful Guy," both in the same scene, went well for Mary. ... Rodgers and Hammerstein were so distressed by the failure of their songs that they avoided looking at [director Joshua] Logan. "I felt like an amateur," the director said. He had instructed Mary to rub her head with soap and water just as she started the refrain of "I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Outta My Hair." But what he hadn't anticipated was that thhe audience would be so shocked by the physical act of Mary's washing her hair onstage with real water that they didn't hear the song. When the number finished, there wasn't a handclap. The solution proved simple enough. Mary sang the song first and then went into the shower and began lathering her head. "During the loud music that had been composed for the dance," Logan said, "Mary washed her hair and romped about, flinging soap and suds." Once that change was made, the number ended to a roar of applause. Later her costume for the scene was sprayed with Scotch Guard so that Mary could finish the act in dry clothes.

Similarly, "A Wonderful Guy" only became a showstopper after the staging was revised. Initially, there was "cornball," embarrassing clowning with all the nurses/dancers on the beach. Instead, Mary began singing the song as a soliloquy with slight lyric changes by Hammerstein, and the number became the peak of the show. But there was lots more work to do:

To the director's surprise, Mary seemed unperturbed by the failure of her two big numbers on opening night in New Haven. "Maybe it was the way I did them," she said. "I'll get applause tonight. Don't worry." But it took several days of feverish work to get the staging right. The company was still rehearsing every morning, and the writers were making changes after most performances. "We just worked like fiends," Mary remembered. Playwright Emlyn Williams was on hand in the Taft Hotel to confer with the collaborators, and eventually forty-five minutes were taken out of the show -- two songs and words here and there.

These are valuable reminders of the sacrifice (Martin complained of no social life due to the constant imposition of vocal rest) and disciplined work behind great performances. As Yeats put it, "A line will take us hours maybe; yet if it does not seem a moment's thought, our stitching and unstitching has been naught."

January Down Beat: Building A Solo, Blindfold Test

I have to pick up a copy of Down Beat. In the January issue, on newsstands now, there's an article entitled "The Art of the Solo" by Bob Davis. Here's an excerpt:

Something new coming up every time is vital for Herbie Hancock, for whom even stating the melody and sticking to the song are less important. He doesn’t like to present what people expect. “I set about trying to design the presentation so that it’s more of an experience for the audience,” he said. “As far as the shape of the music is concerned, many pieces I reharmonize, or at least reshape the arrangement, so that it’s not always just a melody and then there’s improvisation, then the melody and then it’s out. “Wayne Shorter’s group is interesting because they don’t take that approach at all,” Hancock continued. “Wayne plays a few phrases, and next you’ll hear Danilo Pérez playing. He’ll go off on something, complete some idea, but it’s not like a whole long solo. It’s an idea that can be picked up by the bass or drums. Sometimes they all play together.”

That atypical structure—an animated toss-and-catch dialogue instead of serial soliloquies—is a freer form of group improvisation, a musical conversation in which players don’t merely support but actually build upon each other’s ideas. Ahmad Jamal has another approach—the entire ensemble is his instrument and the entire song is a solo. “There’s the role of the architect,” Jamal said. “Building blocks. You have to build if you’re a musician. You have to be a musical architect, if you have the players who can do that. I like the idea of building and ending when it’s complete—not before it’s complete. I like to build as perfect a structure musically as I can.”

I also really want to read the blindfold test, which was done live with Cassandra Wilson at the Monterey Jazz Festival. Check out who she was listening to:

Betty Carter: "In The Still Of The Night" from It's Not About The Melody (Verve)
Joe Henry: "Stop" from Amor (Mammoth)
Ray Charles: "The Years Of Torture" from Blues + Jazz (Rhino/Atlantic)
Shirley Horn: "My Funny Valentine" from I Remember Miles (Verve)
Dee Dee Bridgewater: "Red Earth" from Red Earth (EmArcy)
Lizz Wright: "My Heart" from The Orchard (Verve)
Dorothy Love Coates: "Ninety-Nine And A Half" from The Best Of Dorothy Love Coates And The Original Gospel Harmonettes (Specialty)
Abbey Lincoln: "I Could Sing It For A Sing" from Over The Years (Verve)

Irresistible Split Pea Soup

I made some good soup tonight:

1 lb. dried split peas,
1 kettle boiling water,
1 cube chicken bouillon,
1 bay leaf,
couple dashes worcestershire sauce,
few shakes of adobo seasoning,
1 sliced red onion,
2 cloves garlic,
4 sliced carrots,
sliced celery with leaves,
four slices of bacon

Sometimes when I make split pea soup no one wants to eat it. This time it was delicious! The only trouble was, after several bowls of it (one wasn't nearly enough) I was overcome with lethargy and sat down to watch a depressing episode of Intervention (flipping among channels to brighten things a bit). I had been planning to go to a spinning class at the gym but I am useless and exhausted now. Caution: Eating vegetable soup causes vegging out!