by Lucy Gellman | Oct 13, 2014 8:43 am
In the shadow of reconstructed Camarasaurus, Stegosaurus and Camptosaurus, the African Arawak Connection launched into another wild round of drumming. The group’s three members urged listeners of all ages to join in on a refrain of Coquí coquí that was intended to mimic the loud, near-singsong mating call of the eponymous Puerto Rican frog.
by Lucy Gellman | Oct 8, 2014 1:41 pm
Sitting down to play an encore of their summer hit, the first movement of Mozart’s “String Quartet in C Major, K. 157,” members of the Phat Orangez glanced at each other, easing into the tight space that was reserved for them. An almost-giggle here. A wink there. A slight, promising smile, holding back a grin that was sure to break free at any moment.
by Lucy Gellman | Oct 8, 2014 12:05 pm
Toward the back of the English Building Markets on Chapel, the specter of physicist Boris Kerner – an unlikely candidate for vintage housewares and lightly worn ties – slithered and bent among the rafters, observing the ordeal slowly unfolding below.
Michael Compitello looked up and smiled, enchanted, from a grouping of ceramic flower pots arranged on a black yoga mat.
Hannah Collins glanced at him with a knowing grin. To her discordant, wavering cello, a series of hollow clinks started falling rapidly, filling a makeshift black box space.
Audience members shifted in their seats, three-phase traffic theory reaching up to meet whispers of Jóhann Jóhannsson’s Fordlândia before their eyes.
by Paul Bass | Oct 7, 2014 1:03 pm
Cafe Nine slid into the work week with the help of two men who talk with their pinkies.
by Lucy Gellman | Oct 2, 2014 12:12 pm
Just seconds into a self-dubbed “Frankenstein” Ciaccona for chamber vocals, Taylor Ward was getting ready to dance it out, shrugging his shoulders and easing into the beat.
Rising just slightly on her bare feet, mezzo soprano Annie Rosen joined in, entering a back-and forth of voices that ebbed and flowed through the living room, exquisite waves of sound by the time they reached the walls.
by Lucy Gellman | Sep 30, 2014 12:36 pm
Big Sandy could hear tequila calling his name.
by Paul Bass | Sep 24, 2014 10:28 am | Comments (1)
Would you throw Mike Latornica a quarter?
by Jordi Gassó | Sep 23, 2014 2:08 pm
Barbra Streisand, Tina Turner and Judy Garland walked into a bar.
by Lucy Gellman | Sep 19, 2014 11:45 am
Sam Perduta was losing his mind at the mic. The audience could see it slipping through his open lips and strumming fingers as he played, a brilliant flash of light here; a catch of breath there. In a small, clean corner of his skull, Erin McKeown, Buddy Holly and Wilco were slapping high fives and toasting to his new-found insanity.
Or maybe he had lost it already, wailing:
Lonesome, when I see you smile
And I’m dreaming that I’ve been someone else
Holy, when you’re here for a while
All is beaming and we’re no longer in hell
I lost my mind in 2009
by Lucy Gellman | Sep 17, 2014 1:02 pm
Several years ago, in a Brooklyn that was largely new to him, Edmar Castaneda was picturing his ideal jazz setup: A clean, long stage in a performance hall or bar, ready for a night of music. But no upright bass. And certainly no saxophone.