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Had to see Jesca Hoop, scheduled to appear on a live radio broadcast at noon. First, curiosity brought me to the keynote speech given this year by Lou Reed. He was appearing in conjunction with a screening of Julian Schnabel’s "Lou Reed’s Berlin", which documents a recent performance of the 1973 album. Schnabel considers it “the most romantic record ever made.”
In a Q & A conversational format, Lou spoke with Hal Willner (music producer), bouncing from the root theory behind his early rock, to movies on ipods. A loosely connected, or disconnected, stream of personal insights on culture, music, and technology.
Skitty has cabin fever. She's been pulling her fur out. The vet recommended she wear an "Elizabethan collar" for a few days.
Skitty says, "This stinks."
She confesses she's very curious as to the contents of the classical music CD Eliot Spitzer allegedly wanted to use to set the mood in his hotel room on February 13th. What was he thinking of? Samson and Delilah? Inquiring minds want to know.
Sitting next to me at the Daniel Lanois show was a guy who looked surprisingly like Buddy Miller. I had seen Buddy a few times, and spoke with him at last year’s SXSW. The same baseball hat. Unruly white hair bouncing out underneath it.
Daniel Lanois is in a mold all his own as both a producer and guitarist. A drummer appears behind him, and the new buddy next to me turns and says, “this is going to be one great show. That drummer is Brian Blade. He’s from Shreveport Louisiana. He has a brother who is also a great drummer.”
James McMurtry has fierce dedication. SXSW began for me at the Coqueroo showcase at Mother Egan's. Small stage on the patio behind a deck with crowded tables. There is a chatter about the crowd. At a showcase of songwriters it seems a bit odd the songs take a back seat to the scene. James McMurtry stares down the chatter. His writing doesn't give in to commercial radio boundaries. In a moment, a song, he silences the crowd. There can be great power in uncompromised personal vision.
In less than four months, I’m flying off to China to sing in the Pre-Olympic International Choral Festival with the Rochester Oratorio Society. My group will be first U.S. choir in history to perform in Beijing’s Great Hall of People, a venue usually reserved for political events.
To get ready for the trip, I’m learning new music and reading Fodor’s latest travel guide. But nothing captures the spirit of a place like a novel or movie.
A faithful, sharp-eyed reader of this blog pointed out that in my recent post about singing, I never translated the Latin phrase from Lauridsen’s Lux Aeterna, “Tu devicto mortis aculeo.” This bugged her.
So here it is. It means “having blunted the sting of death.”
In this first entry, it is the night before going to Austin for the South by Southwest Festival. At this point we have only a rough idea of which of the 1,700 bands to try to see. It all begins tomorrow, Wednesday, afternoon with the Conqueroo Showcase at Mother Egan's on 6th Street. Afternoon showcases are sponsored by recording companies and promoters to feature the artist they represent. Very relaxed settings...
Tomorrow night the fun begins.
Food and nutrition certainly seem to be in every headline that you see anymore and since March is National Nutrition Month, I thought I would share some resources and ideas for helping picky eaters try new (and hopefully healthy or healthier) foods.
Here are 3 of my favorite resources/ideas that just might help your picky eater turn into an eating explorer:
In the middle of the concert, I suddenly realized I had no idea what I was singing. “Tu devicto mortis aculeo.” Activate dimly-remembered high school Latin. “Mortis.” That’s death. OK. That’s sad. But what if it’s victory over death or something? I study the conductor for clues. Normally leaning forward with a look of hawkish concentration, he’s tilted back on his heels, torso curved, mouth open, eyes half-closed. He looks enraptured, like the sound is a glittery syrup filling his spinal column. Arms swirl. No clues there. I slice a look to the tenors for help. Andy and Dennis are leaning forward, singing intently, expressions neutral. I reset my features and turn the page of Morten Lauridsen’s Lux Aeterna. I’m blanking out.