A Gig, Teaching, and a Day in Ferrara

Ciao, Tutti!

This was a big week, and it's not even over yet! I do plan on seeing the Millenial Terretory Orchestra tomorrow night in Prato, and I probably will have a lot to say about that. But my very busy week is officially over now, and I figured I'd use the rest of this leap day to tell everyone what has been going on. Prepare for another long one! I'll try to tell it in chronological order with pictures of Ferrara here and there to make you want to read until the end.


Ferrara Duomo


As it turned out, as soon as I posted the blog last week I got a call for a gig, which I played on Tuesday night, which was in Prato, a town just outside Florence. The bassist picked me up and rode me and the vibes to the venue in the center of town. The gig was with the leader of the other NYU jazz ensemble and a saxophonist, Nick, who I knew from the program.

Now, there was an accident as I was setting up the vibes. Yamaha vibes are different than Musser vibes, the ones I'm used to, and you have to place the top perfectly on top of the bass with the help of a friend to set the instrument in its right place. I didn't do it perfectly enough, and my thumb got pinched in the instrument, creating a giant blister which immediately filled with blood and a ton of pain. I washed it with water and the club owners disinfected it for me and wrapped it in way more gauze than was needed, but even after it, I was still having trouble playing. It still hurt the next day, and it was barely well enough for me to write and take the Italian test on Thursday. It's doing a lot better now, though, so things shouldn't be so bad for midterms next week.

It ended up being sort of like a jam session in a hip club with me and the three others I came with being the house band. We played for a few hours, with some guests coming in here or there, and, unlike the last jam session, these players completely outplayed me. The bassist and the drummer were also very good, and also about my own age, and it was refreshing to be playing with good musicians with open ears, though it was frustrating not to be able to play much at all with the injury. I did my best though, and an Italian tenor player who studied blues in Chicago named Gianluca said I played very well, even though I think he had a great sound, unlike myself. The soprano sax player killed everyone, and it turned out he was a member of one of the most famous jazz bands in Italy, where he plays clarinet. His name was Nico, but I forget his last name. Maybe I should look it up...

We had a great time other than my silly thumb, and I was able to enjoy it by spending most of my time listening to the other musicians and gelling with the rest of the rhythm section, which is better for my musicianship anyway. I returned at 3:00 or so in the morning with 50 Euros in my pocket which I used to get to Ferrara and back, and I set my alarm for 7:30 so I could wake up in time to teach the next day. You see, this was a risky gig to take because of the little sleep I had received after my Barcelona weekend and my usually long Mondays, and I knew I had to teach the next day. Plus I wanted things to go more smoothly than they had the week before. But I figured I could handle it and use all my energy on the kids, which is never too hard for me, and then sleep late the next morning when I don't have class until noon.


Este Castle


Somehow this logic seemed to work, because the class was a great hit. They were studying "Cans and Abilities," so things like sports, talents, etcetera. My idea was to make a fake TV station, channel 3, which we called Griffin TV, and we made a schedule for it all together. I split the class into groups and they each came up one by one to act out a "Can or Ability" and the rest of the class would have to guess what it was. Then we would write that activity in for that group's time slot on the TV schedule. This went too well. I could not find it within myself to quiet them down, no matter how hard I tried, and I had to ask the teacher's help at one point. But they loved the activity and said so. Afterward we sung a song together I wrote:

"Sam likes to dance. He thinks it's fun.
He knows that he's not the only one!

Who else likes to dance?
Stand up with me!

We like to dance. We think it's fun.
We dance all day until the song is done!

What is your name? [The student answers]
What do you like to do?" [The student answers]

Then we'd sing the song again for the next student and what he or she likes to do. One kid said he liked to flamenco dance, which surprised everyone. I asked the class if anyone knew what it was, and no one did, so I had the poor guy come up and demonstrate as we sang for him. He made a fan out of paper and held a scrunchy in his mouth to look like a rose, and it was the funniest cutest thing ever in the history of this planet I kid you not or maybe I do kid a little but it was really cute! I taught them some more of the body after, and the bell rang right after I finished everything I had wanted to do but I didn't have to awkwardly improvise at all. Perfetto! The teacher told me it was a great class, and one of the kids drew a picture of me playing "hochey" in a big stadium. This is going to be a hard one to top for next week.

Oh, and I slept through Italian class. I didn't actually fall asleep, but between not being able to write anything because of my thumb and not being able to pay attention because of all the effort I had already spent and the minuscule amount of sleep I got the week before, it was as if a ghost had been marked "presente." Even so, the events of the day inspired me to buy and make gnocchi for dinner, even though I have no idea how to make gnocchi. Well, I do now! I was very excited about that, too. Potato based, baby!!


Dungeon


I had originally planned to go to Ferrara alone on Saturday, but, serendipitously, my friend Megan wanted to go, and that was certainly fine with me. We ended up having to go Friday (today) because of the show tomorrow, so after my one good Wednesday night of sleep I was already catching an early train all over again.

Ferrara's a cool place for a couple reasons. The Este family controlled it in the old days, like the Visconti in Milan, though this seemed to be a strange exception for this area of Italy (north-west, sort of close to Venice). It's on my history test next Tuesday for this reason, so it was good to "study" in the actual city. The other thing that was really cool was it has a castle in the middle of town that is surrounded by a moat. In the middle of town! I've played with knights long enough when I was small to know that a moat is a big deal, and here's a moat in the middle of a city! I've been saving these picture for right here:







We went in, over the bridge that would have only been let down for close friends of the Este, or people nowadays who can't swim, and we took a tour of the castle. We found the old art frescoes and beautiful ceiling art that the Este commissioned, and the mirrors strategically propped up around the room made it much easier to look than to crane my neck up the whole time.



After the museum we walked around the amazing dungeons of the 1385 castle. It was really cool to look at now, but I'm sure it didn't look so great to the people who had to see it back in the fifteenth century. The rooms were small enough to make me thankful for a dorm, and they did not let in much light or hope. Makes it hard to take pictures.



Next stop was the top of the tower, which was luckily just in time for the sun to come out and grant us clear skies for a great view of the entire piccolo town of Ferrara.



We left the old castle and visited the old Duomo which was closed because it was under restoration from a recent bombing. The church was juxtaposed to a charming outdoor market and the backdrop of the old castle. Do I sound like a British tourist? Anyway, it was fun to look at and take pictures of, though I thought it was too bad I couldn't go into the church or even the tower.



Ferrara seemed to me to be a strange mix of time periods and genres of location. It had the medieval look of the castle, the Renaissance look of the facade of the duomo, the old-fashioned outdoor market, but at the same time there were a million American chains and odd electronics stores here and there than gave the impression than Ferrara wanted desperately to modernize. Also, in the center of town, where the castle, duomo, and market were, things were happening, and not with tourists, but with real Italians, but on the fringes it was like suburbia, reminding me of Huntington Woods with the abundance of green, the deliberately winding streets rather than the meandering walkways in Florence or the center here in Ferrara. Ferrara seems to me to be in transition, not quite knowing what it wants to be. There were also a large amount of construction projects going on around the town.

Megan and I went wandering in the direction to a point on the map that seemed interesting, which turned out to be this large area belonging to a church, most of which was actually an exquisite graveyard. We explored the family tombs, not the inside, though, and the eerily quiet grave site. Why were there no tourists around such a beautiful building? It gave us the feeling we weren't supposed to be there. Didn't stop my picture taking. We visited the inside of the grand church, too, which was truly old and Gothic, remarkably bare and plain in its construction and yet adorned with wonderful paintings and a breathtaking altar at the front.



Outside we sat on a bench and couldn't do anything when this overly-friendly cat decided to jump in each of our laps, purr, drool, and shed all over us. He/She followed us for a block after we said our Italian goodbyes.



We ended the day by checking out this strange round building we had seen on the way to the center of town, which turned out to be a preschool, which is ironic because of the fountain on the front depicting a man drowning babies. Maybe he's just washing them.



We were both very tired at the end of the day, even though we hadn't been able to find time to rent 2.50 Euro bikes as our mutual friend Liz advised us. We were too tired to ride anyway, and the train back was a time for music, reading, and sleeping rather than any attempt at conversation. It was a great day, and we had spent the exact right amount of time in the city. Once again, I feel the urge to travel the world and see all its wonderful sights, be it a castle with a moat, a city carved up by canals, a city with a red dome for a birthmark, a city with crazy modern architecture, or whatever. A good feeling to be heading to Greece with!

Music Announcements

Last Monday I went to an impromptu rehearsal with a group at Il Trillo, the music school NYU in Florence has a partnership with, who decided they want me to play at the Il Trillo concert on March 6. Il Trillo also wants the NYU ensembles to play, so March 6 might be a big gig day in Florence. The one problem is that's when Mom comes in and I would rather meet her at the train station than play. Chances are I won't have to make that choice and I'll be able to make some compromise, so there's a good chance I'll be playing on March 6, but I'm not sure with who, when, or where. This seems to be a theme with Italian concerts...

No headway back home in California with a summer gig, and I'm about ready to give up, but New York is yielding some fruit, or buds, at least. I'm working on a show at Barbes in Brooklyn, a really cool small club that fits only trios at the largest and only 25 audience members. I saw Ben Monder play there and it was amazing. I'm trying to play with the trio with my drummer friend Jesse Simpson and a bassist he knows from Manhattan School of Music. Keep our fingers crossed! I also might play with that same group back home over the summer, though probably in San Francisco and not the East Bay.

Aside: Because of midterms next week, don't expect much posting until they're over, but by then Mom will be here, so I probably won't post much anyway. If nothing happens on this site until Greece, don't worry, nothing terrible has happened to me!

The Barcelona Affair

Ciao, Tutti!

I have just returned from Barcelona and I want to spill my guts to you all while the stories are fresh. The problem with that is that there is simply too much to say, and, as you'll see, I'll be using both photos and a few movies to tell the stories for me.

I left for Barcelona on Friday morning. First I had to take a bus to Pisa, which takes about an hour and half, and then fly over to Barcelona, which takes another hour and a half. When I got there, I was to call my friend Kat to tell her I was there and was ready to meet her and her friends. The problem was that my phone told me I couldn't make calls in Spain, and suddenly I was in a Spanish country (Oh, and it's not really Spanish that they speak there. It's something else with a name I forget) without a map, a contact, or a clue. I found my way to the free shuttle downtown, picked up a free street map from the airport, and plotted my way to the hostel, hoping to meet the rest of the group, and this is the first thing I saw:



I found out later it was the national palace, and despite still needing lunch and another four hours of sleep, I was already enjoying myself. I certainly enjoyed the spontaneity of the trip without the phone, and I was tempted to just walk up there and check it out, but I needed to get to the hostel, so I left the palace behind. Next time, maybe. I walked along the main street away from it, hoping I would find a cell phone store along the way. I was sure it would happen, but one was closed for Siesta and the other didn't actually exist, there was just a strange sign there that said "Motorola". I made it to the hostel, but the land line there couldn't connect to mobile phones, so I lost 3 Euros to a public phone, then trekked back to the store that had been closed which was now open, but didn't sell sim cards. I somehow made it to the train station that sold me a card, and I completed the 3 hour, 28 Euro call to my worried friend. We met up, I met her friends, and we went out in search of the main street and of dinner.



On the left is Amanda, a girl I know from the NYU scholars program. Next to her is Sheila, a girl with a great sense of rapping about oranges. More about that later. On the second to right is Hilary, a possible music major when she declares who liked to practice British accents. Actually, we all liked that. On the far right is Kat, who I knew from the first year in NYU, my contact in Barcelona, and the main planner of the trip. All of them live in homestays in NYU in Madrid, and they were just as puzzled by the Barcelona combination of Spanish and French languages.

We all went to the old market and bought smoothies, which was my 8:00 lunch, then went to a restaurant and had the best seafood paella I ever had, at least until the next day, which is another story altogether. Now, let's see if these movies work at all...



That was just about the end of the night for us. The girls had been on an 8-hour bus ride since 1:00 am to get there, and they were just as exhausted as I was, and we started planning the next day. It turns out Kat had been there before, so it was pretty easy to follow her planning, especially since she's a great planner in general. All I wanted to make sure of is that we would stop by the beach so I could swim (By the way, it was 60 degrees and sunny the entire time we were there) and make some time to stop in the pasterias so I could taste as much of Barcelona as possible. We went to sleep in the hostel room and I clutched my important documents to my chest all night.

Now I would like to compare this trip with the trip I took to Venice earlier, not just for the sake of rating the two places, but for the sake of rating two different styles of vacationing. In Venice there was no plan. There were the obvious major sights and then a lot of walking around to minor sights, whatever I seemed to want at the time. Barcelona left nothing up to the last minute. The spontaneous feeling I had when my phone wasn't working never rematerialized. I am still trying to absorb everything I was seeing, feeling, and thinking, while I had enough time in Venice to really spend whatever time I wanted wherever I wanted to, which was part of the reason the Vivaldi museum was such a success. It would have been no good to have less than 45 minutes in that museum for me.

In order to have the same kind of experiences in Barcelona that I had in Venice, I told my friends not to tell me anything about the sights we were seeing so I could be surprised by everything. I did no prior research about the place, and even though I knew it was one of the most beautiful of Spain's cities, I had no idea why, except that it was close to the coast, which was important to me. Unlike in Venice, which I had researched the week before and seen some of the sights from the slides in class and postcards around Florence's touristy center.

We awoke at 9:00, cooked a breakfast of eggs and fruit, and off we went.

First stop: Parc Guell. This reminded me of some strange combination of Central Park, but 3-D, and the Boboli garden's. The park was on a high hill overlooking the smoggy city like the grand vistas from Boboli, but it was an entirely artificial park like Central Park. Except, as I soon learned, the park was a creation of the famous Spanish architect Gaudi, who, I must say, did a much better job at designing the park than the planners of either Central Park or the Boboli Gardens. There were handmade grottos, somewhat like the one in Boboli, but more modern and functional rather than artistic. The picture of me at the top of the page is taken inside one. The paths all lead to the famous bench, which I thought at first must be some strange term for a new kind of building but turned out to actually be a bench. A bench that took nearly two centuries to build with all the tiles that had to be individually placed.







I had already been struck by how modern Barcelona is, and Kat and the others said that Madrid is the same way. I don't know why, but I expected the city to be hundreds of years old at the youngest points like Florence. Gaudi was working at the end of the 1800's, way ahead of his time, but there wasn't anything like the leftovers from the Renaissance you find in every corner of Florence. However, the youth of the city also meant wider sidewalks! Score!

Guadi also had a couple of his famous houses in the park, which leads me to my next video:



Next was a subway ride to the Sagrada Familia. I did not know what that was. Something about the family. Anyway, we get off the subway, and I ask when we know if we're there, and Kat says that we'll know. And we certainly did. "Oh," I said.



The last 16 years of Gaudi's life was spent on this church, and it's still not finished. You can see when they started construction again after the civil war. This is Barcelona's answer to the Duomo here in Florence, not ancient but indeed magnificent, and definitely dominant in the city sky. If you look at the vista from the park you should be able to see it through the haze. Cameras and words cannot contain this building. Please go there. We had sandwiches on the park across from the church, and we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, though it started to gt chilly and we realized we had to put a move on if we were to make it to the beach in time for me to enjoy my Mediterranean Sea.



As if we hadn't had enough of Gaudi, which we hadn't, we went to see the three spaced-out but easily walkable houses in the city center. I don't even know what to say about them, exactly. The lines were too long to go in, and we didn't really want to anyway. They were more interestingly from the outside, as far as we knew, and Kat knew since she's been there before. Gaudi seems to be the Dali of architecture. I've never seen anything like it.



House 3



House 4



House 5

Next stop was the "cable cars" as dubbed by those who haven't been to San Francisco and seen a real cable car before. This is more like a ski lift without the skis or the snow. Amanda is afraid of heights, so she let me use her camera to take the pictures, since, same old story, mine was screaming about having low battery. I'll post those pictures as soon as she gets back to Madrid and makes them available to me, as well as putting our rap video on YouTube. I anticipate myself. The cable cars climbed up a hill to the oldest part of the city I got to see: the palace that looked over the sea. We could see the World Trade Center, the big trading port which was kind of like Oakland's, and the same panoramic view of the city we got from the other park, just from a different angle. Problem was that now the fog was starting to come in and it was very hard to see much of anything, and I decided to save my battery. Sad to say, but it paled in comparison to the mighty Fort Belvedere, but it was very nice to have a seat for a few minutes after a day on my feet. 4:30 we went to another route of cable cars that was to bring us to Port Olympiad, the main boardwalk, just in time for me to get my swim in.

That was the plan, at least. Problem was that with the coming of the fog came the closing of the cable cars to the beach due to safety reasons, so we were forced to walk down the hill and catch a subway. We learned that every map of the Barcelona subway system says something different when we got off and our transfer train actually doesn't stop there. As we recuperated and tried to think of what to do as we raced the sun to the horizon, I saw that we were very close to the train station and thus very close to that original palace, and as luck would have it that palace was close to a subway station that had a line we could use. After stopping in the corner pasteria, we made our break for it. By the way, those pastries inspired hope in me. I bought some that were like dough nut holes but a million times better, and some custard filled balls that exploded in my mouth and made me promise to exercise more so I could eat as many as I want. They were, as we say in our fake British accents, quite good.

We made it to the boardwalk, but the sun had already beat us, and I could see my breath and I knew that there was no point in my wearing my swimsuit under my pants all day. We still made it to the beach, and even though we were very hungry, it was only 7:00 or so, and in Spain they usually eat dinner at 10:00 or so, so we decided to wait until 8:00 at least, and besides, it was very relaxing to sit by the sea. This was the last image of Barcelona my camera saw before the battery died:



That's when that rap thing I was alluding to happened. Apparently while I was listening to music the night before Sheila and Amanda and possibly Hilary, but I don't know, I wasn't paying attention, were spending a fair amount of time rapping about oranges. I don't know why, and neither do they. They just kept saying, "Naranjas," in some rhythm, and suddenly we were all doing it, with me beat boxing in the background. This madness ceased when we saw that Amanda had taped the whole thing with her camera, and we watched it, causing us to laugh so hard that it made us start to cry. We had to do another about Se Bon, Vale, and Prego, the French, Spanish, and Italian words that seem to be multi-purpose and, "You're welcome." It was ridiculous. We were out of control, and suddenly it was worth it not to swim because if I had made it, I wouldn't have been a part of that obnoxiously typical American spectacle.

We ate next, which was an adventure in itself. There was a long boardwalk filled with expensive restaurants, which we were exploring until a too-nice native asked us if we were looking for something to eat, which is always a red flag for me. He promised that if we didn't like anything we could come talk to him and get out without paying, which is another red flag to me, but Kat was all for it, and Sheila and Amanda seemed to agree. Hilary and I were very suspicious that they were going to charge us extra or that it was going to be bad, and the awkward waiter seemed to confirm this in the beginning when we asked for the menu of the day which was only 17.50 compared to the 40.00 Euro dishes or the 135.00 Euro lobster, which Hilary and I were convinced they were going to try and convince us to get.

It turns out that Kat was right, as she tends to be. As soon as the waiter learned that we all spoke Spanish (except my speech was coming out as Italian way too often) it became much easier to communicate, and we certainly got our money's worth. There were three courses, wine, and dessert shots included in the price that seemed to shrink with every five-star dish that arrived at the table. Right on the ocean, the seafood was phenomenal. I don't think I've ever tried muscles before, but now I think they're the greatest thing ever. I ate the specialty tapa of bread coated thinly by tomato, and a large plate of seafood paella that is indescribable. As is my answer for a lot of things: go there. It was simply freaking good. The place is called La Fonda, and the man who made the hard sell said his name was Marco Antonio, though I don't know if that's the truth or not, but if he tries to sell you the place, you can tell him you've heard of him. Unlike the food in Venice which shut my mind off, this food put the five of us in a festive mood, and we were celebrating the day of Barcelona for three hours, able to watch some people come and go and have their tables replaced before we were finished. I was in such a good mood that I was able to try a half of a shot, which Kat says was the best liquor she's ever tasted (and she had quite a bit...), and I must say I actually enjoyed it but knew better than to try another. It went with the chocolate mousse well.

We took the subway back to the hotel to prepare for our early wake-up the next day for our respective trips back, and I prepared myself for catching my early flight without knowing how to get to the airport, then doing the rest of my laundry list of homework on the flight and bus ride back. Luckily for me, the story ends there. Of course I could talk about our sixth roommate, a Cal State Longbeach student, or the girl who would not stop ringing the doorbell in the middle of the night at the hostel, or the lizard sculpture I didn't even really get to see except through my camera and on postcards. But if I was to go into those stories, there would be too much to say.

The last thing I would like to say about Barcelona is simply a thought. In Venice I feel like I saw less than I saw in Barcelona but in more time, and, while I loved the city much more, I didn't have as great a time as I did in Barcelona with the two "old" friends and two new ones. Barcelona, in all it's modernity, seemed more like a get together in a beautiful city, where Venice was a beautiful city where I traveled with another person mainly for the sake of making it cost-efficient. In the end, though, I feel like I've experienced Venice, where I've only seen Barcelona. You know what I mean? I got a real feel for Venetian culture and custom, where I was just having fun in Barcelona in ways I probably didn't have to leave Florence to do (except to visit my friends in the Spain program). But I had such a wonderful time in Barcelona, and I have to wonder what is more important, to see the sight and to really absorb them as best you can as well as the culture, or go and have a blast and forget about tomorrow? It was surprisingly nice to relax and simply let myself be an American tourist.

Perhaps I should leave the immersion to Florence, and do what I can when I visit other places. We didn't even get to the Picasso museum in Barcelona, nor the close-by Dali museum, which I will see before I die, so I can't even claim to have seen the area's main sights in their entirety like I have for Venice. Plus, Barcelona's just a ton bigger of a city. Doing a city in basically a day and a half, trying to cram in all I can, was quite an experience, and I'll have to think a lot harder before going traveling again about how I want to visit.

No music announcements or CD review today, but do listen to Fionn O Lochlainn. He's an acoustic rock singer who writes amazing lyrics, has a great voice, and sounds like Dylan both in his style and what he sings about. As far as the music announcements go, I won't know anything new until I check my email, so there's nothing new to report.

For all of you upset at me for not putting any pictures in last week's post, I hope this makes up for it. I took almost 200 and three movies while I was there, almost all in that one day. Whew. I want to sleep now.

Ciao, Tutti!

I am soon to be on my way to an amazing weekend in Barcelona with my friend Kat from school who is currently studying in Madrid, so I figured I should write what I can now so I devote most of the next post to the trip. I am getting very excited and I will have another batch of great stories and colorful pictures when I return, and hopefully a tan, too, if the weather's nice enough to permit swimming.

I would like to say that this was a relaxing week for me, with the return of internet and not much activities outside of class, but it was actually a pretty rough week in terms of schoolwork and sleep. Monday is always a tough day for me, and it was even tougher this week because we had a double session of ensemble to make up for next Monday when we have to cancel. That meant I had class from 10:30 until 10:00 pm with a short break from 4:00-6:00, half of which is used to walk from class to ensemble, half of which is used to grab a quick dinner, and half is used to do whatever homework I may have.

The point is there's just not enough time, and Monday was therefore quite exhausting. But on the plus side, we met our new music theory teacher who seems to have an incredible reputation in his field, speaks fluent English, and has an unlimited grasp of the information, an unbelievable improvement on our previous professor who got fired. For once I can say, "Bravo, NYU." The other plus was that in jazz ensemble there was a guest who spoke up on behalf of playing the music more interestingly. As in, not just head, solos, head, out, and not playing all the solos the same for every tune. We finally started playing as a group and the pieces sounded more like pieces rather than a chance for each of the members to show off. It was a great improvement and the first time I really enjoyed myself in that band, even though we're playing Filling the Gap. The other members felt insulted by the way the guest was talking, which I could see maybe if I really concentrated, but I'm glad he said what was on my mind but couldn't quite phrase right, and we're starting to sound better. I hope things stay this way next time we meet. After the ensemble we exchanged contact information and he said he would send me an email if he wanted to have me play with him and his band up in Genoa sometime before I depart, which is very exciting because I'm quite interested in visiting Genoa, and playing there would be another amazing thing to do.

Monday is followed by Tuesday, during which I have class and a reserved practice time that keep me working from when I rise until 4:00 or so. Between Monday and Tuesday, I'm usually pretty exhausted, but there was no chance to break. I have a lot of work for composition lesson and I won't have any weekend to do it in. Plus I'm breaking through with Guest Artist and I don't want to loose too much momentum. Sigh... so much work!

Wednesday is a good day because I get to teach the kids English. I brought a small pot from home and had them all draw vegetables so we could all "make a soup" together. Afterward we took out everything they all drew and made the recipe so they could take it home and make it there if they wanted. I ended a little earlier than I had intended originally because they already seemed to know all the words I thought I was going to have to teach them. It turns out the teacher wanted me to do a food activity because that's what they were studying in their English class, not just regular class, so they already knew everything! Next week when we do sports and abilities, I'll be better prepared.

After teaching I only have one class, which makes it my shortest day. This gave me time to get some of the work done that I needed to get done, but I still have a lot to do after I'm done with the blog. But this Wednesday night I had a special ticket to see a concert in Teatro Verdi by the Toscana Orchestra, featuring violin soloist Uto Ughi. They played some works of Bach and of one of his son's, and the man's solo technique was simply incredible, possibly the best individual playing I have ever seen. I read the pamphlet about him (even though I was in Italian, I could understand most of it!) which said he was already performing when he was 7 years old and a full-fledged concert violinist when he was 12. The warm sound he got from the instrument was partly because the thing was a 1744 model that had been restored for him. Anyway, he conducted the orchestra as he played so clearly and sweetly and sometimes more impressively than I could imagine, and the Bach pieces fit his playing (and his ancient instrument) just about perfectly. He came out to play three encores, the crowd was so wowed by him, though the most impressive were his solo violin improvisations, one that was totally improvised, though you wouldn't know if he didn't say beforehand, and another that was another Bach piece. He could play things that were not only impossible to describe but impossible to play, and yet it was still musical and within the style, making up pieces with shape and form. I had to ask myself what do Jazz and other modern music have that set it apart from such virtuosity? What can we do that this violinist can't do?

If it wasn't so late, I was ready to go back to the apartment and practice for hours.

Today was fairly relaxed, which was nice. My Italian class met at a gelateria where we had a short scavenger hunt and then some NYU-funded gelato, which was actually quite good. Then a trip to L'Acedemia with my music history class to see the ancient musical instruments, then to campus to audition for the talent show fund raiser. All in all a pretty stress-free day, but it took up a lot of time and now I have no idea how I will have the energy or will-power to do all the work I have for music, let alone the usual heavy load of reading for my history class. Perhaps I will do most of the reading on the bus to the Pisa airport and the plane to Barcelona, and back, too, but I want to pack light. Oh, well, I'll figure it out later.

I apologize for the lack of pictures this week, but I'll be sure to make up for it with the Barcelona pictures. I've been giving my camera a break since it pulled a muscle with all the pictures I've been taking lately. It's almost fully recovered now, so no worries.

Music Announcements

Spread the word! Sam goldsmith and the Inspiration Sextet will present Guest Artist live at the Bowery Poetry Club-the sequel, on Thursday, September 25 from 6:00-7:30, in my best birthday concert ever. Make them have to sell standing room seats!

I am starting to procure gigs here in Italy. I will be playing with Il Trillo's Grupo Facile on April 8 in "una chiesa vecchia" (an old church). Il Trillo is the music school that lends NYU rooms for ensembles and practicing, and the owner invited me to play with one of their regular bands. They offer classes to all ages, so I bet this will be like me sitting in on a school band concert. It should be a lot of fun.

The NYU jazz ensemble I am in currently is scheduled to play at least twice in the week after spring break in March. I'm not sure of the dates because I don't think anyone is, but I think one day is at Pinocchio on March 21, though we're trying to change it to a week later, and the other is on March 26. Those are not exact dates! I don't want you to buy a ticket to come out and see me play in Florence just to find out I got the date wrong! I'll let you know when the dates are more accurate, and I'll include some cheap airfare quotes so you can make it out easily ;-)

Until next week,

-Sg

First Week Of Teaching

Ciao, Tutti!

I’m sorry I haven’t been able to write in a while. The internet situation here is out of control, and with everyone gone for the weekend, I have no one else to mooch it off. I could make the 45 minute trek to campus to do it… but even then I wouldn’t be able to put pictures on because I wouldn’t be able to use my computer. It should be fixed three days ago, so we’ll see. Anyway, it was just fixed this morning, so here I am, hastily trying to catch up when I should probably be in the Bargelo or the Uffizi or something.

The most important thing that happened so far this week was the start of me teaching English every Wednesday morning, something I have looked forward to since I heard about the option back in New York orientation. I had wanted to work with 5 and 6 year-olds like I had back home in summer camp, but apparently everyone else did, too, so I was forced to choose middle school or high school (scuola media o liceo). I chose middle school.

I was told to show up on Wednesday morning without any particular plan, to show up ten minutes early to meet the teacher, and she would tell me about the class, and then they’d question me for an hour to show off their English skills and get to know me. No such thing happened. The teacher told me they were first year middle schoolers, about 11 years old, and they didn’t know much English yet. Did I have a plan? she asked. Lucky for me, I had been thinking one up since I got the position, for the walk over, and for the 40 minutes early I somehow ended up arriving. I told you I was excited. She also told me to speak no Italian if I can help it. That part is pretty easy. Another lucky thing: the teacher said the students play music after school, so if I wanted to do something with music, they would like that very much. I told her the vibraphone would not be able to make it to class, but the melodica probably will.

It really was “Off you go!” I enter the classroom ahead of the teacher to a bustling class of preteens and immediately I have to know exactly what to do and what to say. Lucky me again, I’m quite over stage fright at this point in my life, and the kids were not only extremely well behaved but excited to meet me. Before I could say a word they greeted me with a big “Good Morning!” to which I answered the same, using my loud teaching voice I developed at summer camp. I asked them how they were, and they said they were good. I told them about myself, making sure to talk slowly and clearly without any contractions (No “I’m” or “Don’t” but “I am” and “Do not”). I tried to draw a map of the United States so I could show them where New York and San Francisco are, and they said it looked like a fish. The teacher brought me a global map, which worked better because I could show them how far Florence was from both New York and San Francisco.

I introduced myself to each of them so I could get them to speak. What is your name? Nice to meet you! How old are you? Do you like Florence? Me too! Do you play an instrument? What instrument do you play? Can you play us a short piece? Exuberance was key. If I didn’t do hand motions and acting, they would have had a much harder time understanding what I was saying. But they got it pretty quickly, and I met all of them and most got a chance to play a short children’s song. Everyone wanted to play, and I felt bad we couldn’t hear from all of them. After the performances, we had just enough time for everyone to stand up and for me to teach them the parts of the body, leading to “Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes.” I gave a couple of the students a chance to lead the song and the game, which they liked a lot. Unfortunately, the bell rang before they had the chance to ask me many questions about myself at the end, so I’ll try to leave some time next Wednesday. The teacher and I talked about next week’s lesson plan as the kids ate, a little about New York, a little about each of our country’s elections. If you don’t already know, Italy’s government recently collapsed, which seems to happen a lot, and the teacher said that makes teaching hard because she always has to be researching the new laws.

Anyway, that was a very long way to say I had a lot of fun, and I bet next week will be great. At the end of class, one of the kids who was particularly good at understanding English gave me a little valentine’s day card with my name on the front and a heart with “Very Fantastic! Thanks!” written on the inside. I was floating on air for the rest of the day.

The other cool thing I did (and I have pictures for this one!) was to make paper at Il Papiro. That’s one of those crazy stores with all the hand-made paper that costs way more than you can afford but you want anyway because it’s so nice. NYU had a small event – only 7 people went – to witness and take part in the tradition of papermaking. First the man gave a demonstration and then we each took turns with the apron and strange tools to make our own, which we were to pick up the next day. This story I will tell through pictures:




There is a pool of strange purple glue that is the papermaking canvas. You choose a color and hit the paintbrush to make splatter paint on the “canvas”. Yes, like Jackson Pollack.




After that, there are a few tools you can use to make the paint do more than just make blobs. You can draw with the other end of a paintbrush, which is used to make the flowers and hearts, but I liked this rake the most. It makes streaks through the design, and that’s what I was feeling.




Then you carefully put the paper on the glue-paint-thing, then remove it by dragging it along a pole that wipes off the glue, leaving only the paint.




Then you smile for the camera with your paper!




I also decided that while I was there, I might as well get a really nice pen because I’ve always really wanted one. I’m not sure why. They’re really cool, but I need more of a reason than that to buy something so expensive. So I went even more expensive and bought a set with ink and a holder and everything. I have a blank notebook to record ideas I need to draw and can’t write, a souvenir from Venice, but the pencil is already smudging, so I figured it’s time to learn calligraphy. I actually have no desire to write in calligraphy, especially since I sort of have to teach myself, but it’s been working out fine for me so far.



If you don’t know what the drawing is, that’s fine. It probably won’t come into existence for another half-decade at the very least.

In other news, my terrible Music Theory II teacher has been replaced, and we get to meet the new guy on Monday. He was recommended by the Aural Comprehension teacher who has enjoyed universally great reviews from his students. Things are looking up in that respect. Not only that, the Music History II class is trying to arrange a trip to Prague to study, which would be quite amazing because I won’t be able to go to Prague otherwise. NYU has another campus there, so it shouldn’t be too hard if we can all come up with the money.

Music Announcements

The Bowery Poetry Club gig looks to be set for September 25, 2008, from 6:00-7:30, and will probably be the New York premier of Guest Artist and another piece I have been working on, Sense of Urgency. It’s almost time to start reserving tickets, but because internet has been down, I haven’t yet received the final confirmation. The same goes for the Jazz at Pearls gig, who may or may not have written me back yet.

The film I’m scoring in private composition class is a 1929 silent German film called “Panora’s Box.” I’ll probably perform it with my teacher’s other composition students on the NYU in Florence campus at the end of April.

Guest Artist is really starting to shape up in a full-fledged piece. At the pace I’m working, it should be finished shortly after Mom visits for spring break, so in a month or so.

Jam Session and Boboli Gardens

Buongiorno, Tutti!

Lately I have been robbed of my internet, so I'm at some other NYU students' place to steal theirs for a while. It might explain why I haven't been in contact via email or iChat lately, and I'm sorry but I won't be able to review a CD for this week because I have precious little time to write this post before my computer runs out of batteries.

As things are here in Florence, I couldn't go a whole week without doing something worth reporting, so even though my last post was just four days ago, I'm already blogging again. First off, I had that gig on Thursday night I didn't know whether I had or not. I did have it, and I rode in the back of the tiny Italian Smart Car, clinging to my tightly packed instrument for my life. The drummer who drove me, Simone, thought that I was the funniest looking thing and took pictures of me hunched over in the back. I'm still waiting for him to send them to me, so keep your eyes peeled. I'll be posting them when they arrive. Anyway, that's how the night started.

The venue was at this place that was beyond the law, in a way. It was an old abandoned high school that some people just took over and hope the police don't find out. Don't worry, I won't say where it is, especially because I don't think I could find it again. I couldn't see where the car was going because my head was bent over in that cramped car. Anyway, because the building has no legal owners and is basically illegal anyway, people are allowed to do things there that they wouldn't otherwise, like smoke, do drugs, talk liberal politics, etc. It felt like what a 1930's jazz club must have been like. Normally I wouldn't like that kind of thing, and the smoke did get to me pretty quickly (my great leather jacket seems to be forever possessed by smoke smell), making my eyes sting, but I had a lot of fun. It was so intimate and people were just hanging out and having fun. Perhaps the weed in the air was getting in my system, or the three glasses of wine I had, more than I have ever had in one sitting. But I loosened up and really enjoyed playing and seeing everyone have fun listening and getting together. The person who "owns" the place made dinner or the 40-50 people there at 8:30 or so, a wonderful 2-course dish first of pasta, then of a strange egg thing in tomato sauce with onions, which was out of this world good. We started playing at 11:00, and I didn't stop until 2:30. The original band took cigarette breaks here and there to let other musicians get the chance to jam, but there were no other vibraphonists, so I just stayed on stage. People kept showing up, and everyone had a good time, even if it was just playing standards. After the gig I got a few phone numbers and possible chances to play more in Florence, and Simone and I took the vibes to his studio for the night. He drove me home and we talked about Italian "womens." Oh, what I night out. Maybe I should try it more often. I went to bed at 4:30 in the morning.

That was really fun. I wish I had pictures to show off.



The lack of internet has made me surprisingly productive, and I got all my 75 pages of reading, major work for Guest Artist, and all my other homework done, so this afternoon I decided to go to the Boboli Gardens like I had always wanted to so I could see La Grotta Grande again. I like gardens in the winter because with the sun in the sky where it is you get shadows you won't get in the summer. I was most interested in the Grotta anyway, and I'm sure I'll be back in the spring when flowers are blooming because I have free unlimited access! Woo Hoo!



It was a great idea to go. The Grotta was amazing like I remembered, though I didn't remember the paintings I saw on the ceiling. I can't imagine how it was made. It's this little cave built into the wall with hand-crafted stalactites and stalagmites as well as two casts of Michaelangelo sculptures. The more you look at it in the inside, the more faces and sheep and other strange things that used to look just like rocks you can see. I wish photos could do it justice, but the same light that made it look so cool and jagged made picture taking hard to work out.

Oh, and my camera was on low battery the whole time, and I ran out before I got all the pictures I wanted. Next time I go back I'll get more pictures.

I loved wandering up and down the paths of the garden without any real plan. There are a lot of small side-streets people don't use and I would just take them and see where I end up. I knew a little about the gardens from my guide book, but I'm glad I didn't try to smash all the big "important" sights and instead ended up where fate wanted me to go, which was the best place of all (or so I know. It's not like I saw the other places to compare it to.).

I ended up high on the hill at Fort Belvedere, where there happens to be a 360 panoramic view of the entire city of Florence. It was incredible. I could see everything, the full Duomo, the Palazo Vecchio, the major churches, the Jewish Temple with the big green dome, San Miniato, and even NYU's campus, if I looked from the right angle. There were hills all around, there was the Arno river, everything on this perfectly crisp day. Now I think photos would be the best to explain this whole thing. It was breathtaking. Fort Belvedere... by far my best unexpected find in Florence.



I didn't plan on staying in the gardens until they closed, but I did. My legs are getting pretty strong from walking up the hill every day to campus, so the three hours of uphill climbing was not so hard on me.

I promise once I have more time and more pictures that there will be more amazing images of this amazing city up on the internet!!!



Music Announcements

I wrote the Bowery Poetry Club in New York City and they said they would be glad to have me back, just to pick a date. I asked them for the last Thursday of September, the 25 of the month, because I thought that having a concert on an early Thursday of the year would be better for having a big student audience, and we'll be rehearsed because the band is based in Berkeley, so we'll have already been practicing a lot. Oh, and a birthday concert might be good for publicity. It will also probably be the New York premier of Guest Artist, which is shaping up to be a wonderful and ambitious piece. I know you'll like it.

I'm also writing Jazz at Pearls to try and get a gig there. They haven't written back yet, but that would be for sometime in July back home in Berkeley.

Then, of course, there will be some gigs here in Italy. I'll let you know about those when the dates become final.

Buongiorno, Tutti!

I am still not recovered to the point of coherently speaking, but since when have I ever been coherent before? Besides, fond memories of Venice and fond promises of exciting future keep me energetic despite the lack of sleep. That and a late day tomorrow and the absence of my until now ever-present cold.

It will be very hard to say everything I want to say in this entry because there was so much that happened it will be terribly difficult to put it all into a single blog. Google might run out of room. I'll try my best, though. First, the logistics. I was in Venice over the weekend, leaving early Saturday morning and returning late Sunday night, even later because I got lost in the city and barely missed my train, prompting a trip on the local track to Bologna to transfer, which was so crowded it reminded me of the time I rode the New York Metro during rush hour. The sun never showed up one day, on vacation just as I was. The poor guy deserves a break every once in a while anyway. I went this weekend because it was the last weekend of Carnevale, which turned out to be a mistake because a lot of other tourists had the same idea and I had no intention of buying a mask, dressing up, or painting my face. I thought late January-early February would be good for avoiding tourists, but I guess I should have waited until next weekend. The main Plaza San Marco was so crowded that it was impossible to get close to the Duomo, Palazo Ducale, or the Campanile, and thus the main attractions of Venice are not the ones that burn brightly in my mind.

I still loved it.

Here are my three favorite things about this fantasy land of a city:

1) I loved the whole idea of a city based on water. There were little canals and bridges everywhere. I actually had no idea going into this that Venice was an island, which makes it even more bizarre. Who would ever think to settle on this small island carved up by various canals and then make it one of Italy's most important art capitals? It seems like something a fantasy writer would write about, a city with no cars but only boats, the buses being boats, everything being in walking distance, bridges a thing of everyday life, the smell of salt water permanently imprinted on one's tongue. Venice was a maze of canals that no one would know how to navigate without a map, signs, or the knowledge of locals. It was almost otherworldly.




2) The streets were fantastic. As I said before, there were no cars, and the streets were built with that in mind. They were very narrow, narrow enough to make me long for the sidewalks of Florence, which, if you don't know, are impossible (there's no point to even making some of the sidewalks here in Florence). The "main roads" were too narrow to fit a car in even if everyone was cleared out, even if the car was one of those tiny electric ones. Then there were all sorts of small side streets that were so narrow that some of those football players who played in Sunday's super bowl would not be able to fit through them, so they shouldn't celebrate in Venice. It was a city built for walking. I love walking, and I love mazes, and I could spend hours wandering up and down little streets no one knew about that led to who knows where, and eventually I got lost and didn't care about finding anything in particular, just trying to find out where this side street went and where the next one after that went. There was this one side street where I had to duck through a tunnel to go all the way through, and somehow ended up at a main tourist turnpike. Everything was so interconnected, though not in any recognizable way to non-Venetian eyes.



3) The stairs that went to nowhere. This seems to be a very small thing, but for me it really underscored how much the society was really primed for water. There were stairs and doors everywhere that opened onto canals with nowhere to tie a boat to be seen and with no sign of recent use. And yet they were deliberately built into the ground, probably for some ship to be parked there long ago, but from what I could judge by the water levels the boat would have risen to ground level anyway and there was no need to build steps down that no one would use. There were paintings in the Academia that showed Venetians of the Renaissance getting into their boats from the street, but not by way of stairs but simply by stepping in, and there were also in the paintings stairs that went nowhere, usually by posts to tie boats up with. Still, it tickled me to think of a city state that had built in a way for mermaids to visit frequently, or maybe Poseidon. It was such a water-based culture! Just the feel of the city... there's nothing else like it in the world.



So those are my favorite things about the city itself, and as I've mentioned my best experience in Venice did not have to do with the main landmarks we usually know as being Venetian. I didn't even spend much time on the Grand Canal, opting for the smaller ones. But I didn't spend much time at the monuments. There were too many people around and I get claustrophobic, or just uncomfortable. I even saw the Bridge of Sighs, which was okay.



There are three things I want to talk about at length that I enjoyed greatly that I did in Venice. Three is not my favorite number, but it is right now until I can find a replacement.

1) This was a complete accident. I was taking my time passing through the city on my way to the main plaza, taking my pictures, going into stores and buying playing cards (my collection of weakness), into a paper store and buying a hand-made address book, etc. I walked past a church, but I noticed it was playing music and had its doors open. Odd, because most churches were having mass. There was something on the door about Antonio Vivaldi, and I figured I might as well go in and find out how much it costs. I was blown away, actually close to the point of tears. There in front of me was a church filled with musical instruments, an exhibit of the history of instrument craftsmanship. There were violins and their precursors dating back to the 800's, Oboes from the same time, a 1400 year old harp and lute, a myriad of Renaissance-time instruments including the ancestors to the piano and guitar, instruments I remembered from Renaissance paintings. I could go on an on about this part of the trip alone. I took so many pictures, practicing my indoor picture taking without the use of a flash. My mind was blown. I can't quite explain it, looking at these beautiful instruments from the days in which all instruments had personal craftsmanship was involved. These instruments were works of art, much different than any instruments I had ever seen before. The museum, "Antonio Vivaldi e il suo tempo," gave note to each outstanding instrument craftsman like the painters attributed in the Academia. I was particularly fond of the "Viol D'amor," a 16-string 1785 violin that had the engraving of a woman's head above the tuning pegs. There were somewhere between 50 and 75 instruments of history, and I really had a perspective jolt to see physical evidence of the long and great history I am involving myself in.






2) The Venetian specialty in terms of food is gnocchi. Some people might say it's fish, but don't listen. I had gnocchi twice, the first time at a cute cafe, and it was so creamy and warm and cheesy and nothing like any of the gnocchi I ever remembered, even the amazing gnocchi I had at Santa Margarita 3 years ago (at a restaurant aptly nicknamed "F***ing Delicious"). On Sunday I went to a restaurant from the guide book that said it was a local favorite, and, what do you know, there is no menu after all, like the Cheeseboard Pizza, and the cute old woman (Melia, according to the pictures on the wall), simply asked whether I wanted gnocchi with ragu or pomodoro (meat sauce or tomato sauce). This was a meal to remember, and I certainly will remember it next time I'm in Venice. Called "Cucina Da Mario," the place was indeed quite local, with everyone inside speaking no English, even to me, the obvious tourist. This is where the gondola boaters had lunch, and they were very loud at the table to the left. As far as the gnocchi goes, it even topped the gnocchi from the day before, impossibly. It was so good I even liked the tomato, and I don't like tomatoes. It was made from scratch, obviously, and they obviously knew exactly how to cook it. They even had homemade bread, or so it seemed, because the bread in Italy is usually tasteless, but this didn't even need olive oil. It took me half the meal to remember what I was in the middle of thinking about when it made it to the table. I'm serious. It was actually that good. Go to 2614 San Marco to find out for yourself. It is in between the Vivaldi museum, which I don't know how to find again, and San Marco, I think a block away from the Vivaldi museum, maybe 1/3 of the way from the train station to the main plaza. I'm dead serious. Go there.

3) I saw a couple art museums and a few churches as well. Of course I went to the Academia, the main art museum of Venice, where there were a ton of different Renaissance paintings, kind of like the Uffizi but not quite as cool. The cool dude of the show was this guy Bellini, who decorated nearly every wall with prime examples of goodness. My favorite room, though, was the one that had huge wall-sized paintings of everyday life in Venice, two of which I had seen in my history class this year. There was a picture from when the Duomo was built but before the Campanile was started, which was cool, and lots of cramped streets and stairs going... to nowhere. It was a pretty good organization of a museum, except one room was in restoration and the rooms around it suffered the temporary guest paintings. Not much stood out to me the same way with Botticelli in the Uffizi. Maybe I'm still on a little bit of an art overload, but I had a great time and there were a lot of great pieces, though no one stood out to me individually. I also took a brief trip to the Peggy Guggenheim Collection, and it was a shock to see the modern art collection after all the Renaissance art of the Academia and the Uffizi. I didn't want to spend too much time there, but there were Picasso, Pollack, and Miro paintings, so I had to stay. I don't think I had ever seen a Miro painting before. I usually like Jackson Pollack the best of all modern painters, but it was the Picasso painting "The Poet" that really got to me in that museum. The way he used cubes not just for the sake of using cubes but to attain a totally new perspective you can't get without the use of cubes. That was very good for me to see.

After the Guggenheim museum I went to catch my 5:00 train, but the city turned me around and I missed it by just a hair. It wasn't such a big deal, but I missed my connection on the mainland and I had to take a local train to Bologna, which I talked about later. Hence my excuse for being so tired, but it was a nice trip, and now I know the train system better. It's not such a long train ride on express, but on the local track it's about an hour and a half longer or so, and I made it back late just in time to learn my gig at the Jazz School for the summer fell through. This means now I have a lot of communicating to go through to the states in the next few days, so I hope things get better.

I stayed in a little town just outside, about 20 minutes by train, and it was pretty cheap and a lot of bang for the buck. I don't really know what else to say about it because I spent close to zero time there. Oh, they did have a pretty good free breakfast.

Music Announcements

So, as I briefly mentioned before, the Jazz School gig will not be happening this summer. The hard thing about living here in Florence, other than nothing whatsoever, is that it's hard to get in contact with people back home, 9 hours behind me, and by the time I made contact it was too late. I should have fixed up the gig over the winter break, but there's nothing I can do about it now. So I need all the help I can get finding new venues and contacting them to make sure I have a place to play my big new project, Guest Artist, with the Inspiration Sextet. I'm disappointed I won't be playing at the Jazz school this summer, which is one of my favorite venues, but I'll still make sure to be playing this summer, hopefully at least one gig in the East Bay and one in San Francisco, maybe Jazz At Pearls or something along those lines. If anyone has any suggestions that would help, I would be very thankful. Just write me at samgoldsmithvibes@gmail.com. You won't regret it.

In Italy, however, the gigs are not an issue. I will be playing with the drummer from my NYU jazz ensemble, a local Florentine, on Thursday. I'm not sure if it's a gig or if it's a jam session, but it seems like it's going to be fun. Plus he's going to help me move the vibes. Also there is a gig opportunity in Terni for March 26 or 27, Antonio Vanni's hometown. It seems pretty exciting, and if anyone happens to be in town for that day, you should come by. I'm going to try and bring in Filling the Gap, but you won't hear anything as cool as Rite of Passage, unfortunately. The group is really into standards and not challenging the style of music at all, which makes me unhappy but I could use the practice.

One last announcement: my composition project for the semester is to collaborate with my teacher's other two students and write the film score for an old Italian silent film, and there is a chance that over the summer I'll have a multimedia venue to perform the piece at. It's a long shot, but if it happens you will get a chance to see a different Sam goldsmith than you've ever seen.

CD Review of the Week

Civilians: Joe Henry

I am most familiar with Joe Henry's work starting with "Scar," the breakthrough combination of styles from the singer-songwriter from Texas. "Scar" is a combination of Jazz, Blues, Rock, Pop, and many other styles, nothing like the blatantly bluegrass tendencies of his other projects beforehand. Four years ago, the sequel to "Scar" came out, "Tiny Voices," which was a little tuned down version of the intense wall of fusion mixture that was "Scar," and I could hear the influence of gospel, blues, and country starting to take over, even though the songs are still impossible to characterize.

I waited impatiently for four years for "Civilians" to come out, and I had nearly given up hope that he was still recording, possibly becoming a full-time producer. After the four-year hiatus, what's it going to sound like? Will it sound like the new sound generated by "Scar" and "Tiny Voices," or will it be more like the older "Short Man's Room" or "Trampoline," back in the country/bluegrass days?

It turns out four years gave way to something completely new - again. "Civilians" is a subdued CD compared to the last two CD's, focusing on the lyrics (and Henry is an unreal songwriter) rather than the harmony, instrumentation, and orchestration that gave "Scar" and "Tiny Voices" their unique diversity. Despite Bill Frisell's presence, the jazz element is downplayed, and the CD is certainly under the category of songwriting. And yet it still challenges, partially due to the conviction in Henry's voice. In his other CD's Henry's voice takes the back burner to the amazing musicians (Ornette Coleman stars in "Scar"), while Henry's voice is in the forefront of "Civilians." This is certainly Joe Henry's project, while his other projects have been more focussed on group dynamic. And Henry is certainly deserving of the spotlight, his voice carrying a newfound passion and lyrics that flow effortlessly and evocatively. It's not like nothing you've ever heard before in terms of the simple musical content, but the calm of the CD is only to keep Henry's lyrics foremost in your mind. It is a great CD, but not a CD that hit you over the head with greatness. It is subtly great.

Listen for "Time is a Lion," the single and my personal favorite from the project, also the one that has the most presence. Also, with "God Only Knows," depending on the speakers you listen with, you can hear a tone made by the drums that changes one of the chord qualities during the chorus. Both ways sound great, but I can't help but wonder if that's an intentional effect.

Innovation: B+
Musicianship: B
Entire CD: A
Individual Songs: B
Overall: B+