Artist Sara Hope Hill made a flourish with her hands. “Everything is a web,” she said. “Everything is a reflection of each other. I started reading mythology recently, listening on audiobooks, because I think they’re tied to the stories of now. All of those stories are kind of characters, of people you know personified to an extreme. It helps you understand the world around you. Puppetry and doll making help you understand the world around you, and I think many times the mythology ties into the divinity of my work. Porcelain bodies are God’s work. You are working with perfect beings.”
“Ten years, one practice, one wedding,” Tim Parrish announced to the crowd at Cafe Nine, summing up the most recent history of his band, The Irascibles, which arrived for a once in a lifetime show for a band with a once in a lifetime story behind them.
Westerly, R.I.-based musician Laura Dowding stood behind her keyboard on the stage at Cafe Nine. She’d just finished another of her originals and had half the room in rapt attention.
“Do you know that it’s Greg Sherrod’s birthday?” she said. “He’s 21.”
“Again!” Sherrod yelled from his seat at a table not far from the stage. A ripple of laughter passed through the club. Of course everyone knew it was Sherrod’s birthday. It was the reason they’d come to Crown Street on Friday — to wish Sherrod well for another year, and have a chance to see him perform, from blues to soul to R&B to rock, with a band full of old friends he’s been playing with, some for over 20 years.
“I remember reading the interviews and some people were saying, ‘I can’t believe this happened here in Charlottesville. We’re a sleepy little college town; this is so weird.’ And I was thinking to myself, ‘Yeah, it is a small peaceful town, and it is weird and unfortunate.’ But I kept remembering how everyone kept saying, ‘I can’t believe this happened here.’ And I finally thought, ‘OK, this can happen anywhere ... anytown.’”
“My ribcage is a hothouse harboring a bloom next to you,” Elizabeth Trojanowski sings on “Still Water,” the opening song to Pageant Dove’s recently released self-titled EP. An acoustic guitar lays down a bluesy flat-seven chord to anchor the twists in the melody, but then goes elsewhere, sounding not quite settled, even when a string section joins in. When the drums emerge, we feel like we’re somewhere. But where is it?
by Brian Slattery, Karen Ponzio & Paul Bass | Dec 22, 2017 12:01 pm | Comments (1)
It’s no secret that New Haven is a great place to hear live music pretty much all the time, whether you like bigger-name shows at College Street, the rarified air of a performance at Woolsey Hall, a basement show, an outdoor concert on the Green, or a club that’s still sticky and sweaty after midnight. One of the real pleasures of reporting on the arts in town is that it is part of our job to experience all of that, often. We see a side of New Haven that doesn’t come out as much during the day, a city that knows how to relax, how to party, and how to create of a real community of music.
In New Haven, many Jews have a Christmas tradition other than Chinese food and movies. They fill (to capacity) a Dec. 24 evening performance by Stacy Phillips & His Bluegrass Characters and a Dec. 25 klezmer show by David Chevan’s Nu Haven Kapelye.
Thabisa strolled from the back of Kehler Liddell Gallery in Westville with a megaphone in her hand, already singing. The people in the audience, seated on the gallery floor — many on blankets and pillows — fell quiet as soon as they heard her voice.
She strolled in, took her stand on the small carpet set up under the lights to make a stage. Various percussion to her right. A guitar and a trumpet on stands to her left. Behind her, a large yellow wingback chair, a floor lamp, an end table with a framed picture on it.
The South-African born and now New Haven-based musician sang mostly in Xhosa, but a line in English leapt into the audience’s ears.
“This is where I am,” she sang, “I’m here to stay.”