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+

Amici Degli Uffizi

Ciao Tutti!

I am still too sick, sad to say, and it's been keeping me from sleeping well. Monday is a bad day for me; I have classes from 10:30 until 8:00 with a break just large enough for me to grab food, so that wasn't very good for healing, and on top of that, Tuesday classes start with a 2:45 long history class at 9:00, which is a big deal because of the 45 minute commute up Via Bolognese. (Sigh) I'll try and get some sleep tonight.

I was bestowed free tickets for Madame Butterfly, the only opera I had ever seen before, so I knew what was going on even though it was all in Italian. I got to see Florence's famous Teatro Comunale. Did you know Florence is actually the birthplace of opera? I didn't until last Thursday, but I think that's a stretch because Florence is actually the birthplace of dramatic theater, which isn't exactly the same thing. Even so, it was a beautiful production with the best set for any kind of performance I have ever seen, and even in Italian it made me want to cry at the end. Belisimo! I should have brought my camera.

My roommate still hasn't shown up. I guess that means I don't have a roommate, which is pretty lucky. I was the last in our suite (there are 6 - I mean 5 of us total) to get here, and I got the room with the low ceiling, no closet room for clothes, and no door. But the advantages totally outweigh the occasional bump on the head accompanied by words most people wouldn't expect me to know. I am in a loft, a floor above everyone else, which is good for privacy, despite the no door. I have a balcony that looks out on our street, Borgo Pinti, though not much else. It gives good natural light during the day, as do the sky lights. I also have a bathroom and shower all to myself. That's the best part, I think. Even if I did have a roommate, there's a curtain separating it from the rest of the room. Whatever works. ;)

This is my apartment:



Even though I'm sick and I'm tired (Ho febre e ho sonno) I decided that I need to treat myself after the last fourteen hours of work and holding off sneezes or coughs at the same time, so I was determined to spend my first of many trips to the Uffizi museum. I have a special student card from NYU that gives me free trips to a bunch of different museums and gardens, and I plan to use it enough times to pay for the vibes or oversaturate myself with art, whichever comes first.

On the way, I decided to be a tourist. I paid a visit to my favorite Duomo and the only one I could walk to:



And also the Palazo Di Signoria (the town hall):



I had only intended on spending an hour or so in the Uffizi and then getting back to my apartment to get some rest, but it was impossible. Sculpture is bewitching, and the Uffizi hall is blanketed in it. That's a good adjective, too, because most of the robes are so delicate that they look to be made of blankets rather than marble. No pictures allowed, though, but I'll remember it in my mind. I viewed the art in chronological order, starting with a million or so depictions of the Madonna and Child, and it was very hard to tell them apart except one Florentine painting in the middle where the robes she was wearing actually had folds; there was actual perspective. As we moved on in time, more and more perspective was being added until Botticelli's room, which blew everything before it away with its intricacy, amazing use of light, even more detailed attention to perspective, and a much more attentive depiction of human forms. It was amazing, as if someone had flipped a switch. It was like there was everything before Botticelli and everything after, like he was the crutch in Renaissance art. He was the man, in other words. I'm not even talking about The Birth Of Venus or even La Primavera. I like La Primavera a lot, but The Birth Of Venus was just okay compared to his others in the room. There was an exquisite dark portrait of a woman pouring a pitcher of water from next to her head all the way to a tea cup on her knee, the glistening stream of water making a perfect arch across her face and body as it made its way to the water, almost too thin and detailed to see but too central and unconventional to miss. Yeah, Botticelli was the man. Da Vinci was pretty good, too, but by then I was on art overload and I had to get out.

The Uffizi put me in a good mood and made me want to be more of a tourist, so I visited the old bridge (Ponte Vecchio) and practiced taking night pictures:




There are balconies on the buildings on the bridge and a woman was talking on her phone in her living room, and I was thinking that that bridge would be quite a cool place to live someday.

Out of nostalgia, I crossed the bridge and followed the tunnel above it the Medici had used to escape mingling with commoners, a tunnel I had walked through with the Berkeley High Band before. I remembered it led to this amazing sculpted cave fashioned by Michelangelo (The Grand Grotto), which was one of my favorite parts of that year's band tour. I found it in Palazo Piti, which turns out to be right outside Piti Palace, the Boboli Gardens, and Fort Belvadere. It also turns out that the Grotto is a part of the Boboli Gardens, and, as luck would have it, I have unlimited visits to the Gardens for the semester. How convenient! I'll be back soon. If I wasn't sick right now, I might be there at this very moment, but alas. I have time.

This weekend I will be going to visit Venice with a friend. We'll be staying overnight, which is why I'm writing the blog now instead of on Saturday like usual, because I don't think I'll be in town for Saturday. Plus on Tuesday I'll be taking a day trip to Rome to a see a concert with the music program in "the most important venue in Italy" according to Antonio Vanni, the music director here. Next time I write I'll have a lot to say!

Music Announcements

I finally finished formatting the music from the October 29 concert, which was a little looser than my tastes, though it was still a lot of fun. The recording quality is not as good as the Jazz School concert from July 15, nor is it as well rehearsed, but Peter Apfelbaum plays on it and I play better in that show than I'm used to playing. I can't play that well now, that's for sure. Anyway, I will be loading some of the hi-lights from the show onto the Facebook application iLike, and I will be putting Song of the Siren #3 on my myspace page, which is:

http://www.myspace/samgoldsmithvibes.

If you haven't visited, you should go to listen to Filling the Gap, Rite of Passage, and Unraveling for free. If you already have the CD, you'll only need to hear Filling the Gap (for all I know), which you should listen to if you haven't already had the chance. Rite of Passage and Unraveling are on my CD, "Summer Victory Dance," and once you listen to those songs you'll probably find yourself buying a CD. I hope. But seriously, listen to Song of the Siren #3 and Filling the Gap if you haven't yet, and listen to the others if you don't have the CD. They're good.

The music department here in Florence is trying to hook the jazz ensembles up with gigs in Siena and a gig in Terni, and possibly some others as well, including maybe a trip to my favorite Teatro De Salle. I don't have my portable recorder with me for a variety of reasons, and we don't know specific dates yet, but I'll try and find some way to get recordings of the music, so keep your eyes on the blog for eventual dates for shows. Or, if you just happen to be in town...

CD Review of the Week

Untrue by Burial

Those of you who know me will be surprised at how much I like this CD, and I am a little myself. Anonymous London-based artist Burial is the first artist I've heard from a style called "dub-step." I don't know what that means, but I like it.

This music is very electronic and very atmospheric, so I wouldn't quite call Burial a DJ. Actually, nothing like it. He makes beats and he samples, and everything have very low tone, sounding like it's coming from the other end of a tunnel a mile long. He alters his voice, but not in a distortion way, but more of a changing of the tone and slicing it with other takes or his female or ambiguous singer singing the same lyric.

That's my attempt to describe dub-step. The harmonic content of the CD are nothing new or even that exciting, especially after listening to an entire CD's worth, when we start wishing for the occasional major key or brighter sound. The melodies can be interesting, but very repeatative, forcing themselves into the background of whatever your mind is on, even if you're listening closely. Still, they are catchy, and Burial rarely repeats a theme so much as to wear it thin.

But the main reason I like this CD so much are the beats. This CD will change the way you think about rhythm. I bought this CD at the same time as I bought the acclaimed new Daft Punk CD, "Alive," as well as some jazz CD's, and Burial makes all of them sound like quarter notes to me. These beats are indescribable. They are both bound to the beat, landing on "3" almost every measure in a normal pulse, yet strangely unrestricted by it at the same time, slowing down or speeding up whenever Burial sees fit, always aligning with the indistinguishable vocals and managing to stay on beat. I can't tell how to even begin transcribing the rhythms, even though they sound simply to be fast compared to the melody and driving hard. It's more than that. It's something more than that I can't place exactly. All I can say is that rhythm is flexible for Burial, but not in the sense of rubato. Rhythm is flexible within the beat, within the tempo. These beats are mesmerizing, stealing the focus from the melody and the harmony, and after listening to a full CD of Burial it is impossible to listen to anything else without feeling somehow unsatisfied by the rhythms. I don't know if all dub-step is like this, but reviewers of "Untrue" don't seem to think so.

Then the last song of "Untrue," entitled "Raver," utilizes the least interesting of Burial's beats (which is still more interesting than most other beats I've heard) but unleashes a monster Harmony-Melody combination, the perfect contrast to leave a complete feeling when the CD changes.

The thing to keep in mind with "Untrue" is that it is very dark, and it's great to listen to when you're in need of some alone time. It's not the music to put in your stereo after getting a promotion, winning a Grammy, starting a semester in Florence, etc. At least, not for me. But here I am in Florence listening to Burial. Go figure.

Innovation: A
Musicianship: N/A
Entire CD: B-
Individual Songs: B
Overall: B+

First Week in Italy

Buongiorno, tutti!

I've now been in Italy long enough to get over the jet lag, just in time to deal with a timely cold and sore throat. That's not enough to dampen my mood, but it is enough to keep me in for a Saturday night. But, then again, what isn't?

It is absolutely gorgeous here, the only place in the world that gets better weather than the San Francisco Bay Area. It's been cloudless and clear most days, and you can see the downtown area from the villa, including the dominating Duomo. I also discovered that NYU has one of Italy's largest renaissance gardens on campus, 7 acre's worth! It in a 10-year renovation plan (this is the 9th year), so technically we're not allowed to see it, but that hasn't stopped me so far! That was the "aha" moment for me, when I realized for the first time I was actually in Florence! It was so beautiful, neither the pictures nor the words really do it any justice. But, yeah, I have a renaissance garden essentially to myself. What a great place to beat loneliness, or to realize that being lonely isn't so bad after all.

I went to Terni with the music program over the last weekend to see the Ed Simon trio with Scott Colley and Brian Blade. It was a wonderful show, even though we almost didn't get in because we weren't even allowed to reserve seats despite the fact that we were special guests (not special enough...), we we got to stand the whole time, which was the only way for me to fight the jet lag anyway, even though the music was actually phenomenal. As per my request at dinner, Ed Simon played "The Impossible Question," which sounded quite different as a trio but also opened up a ton of new possibilities. I got to talk briefly with Ed Simon afterward, and then I helped Brian Blade break down his drum set and we talked for fifteen or twenty minutes, and he gave me advice for breaking jet lag's grip on me, though he didn't know how to make my life with the vibes easier.

The next day we saw a completely artificial waterfall which is still one of the tallest in Italy. The power company owns it and uses it for hydrolic power, and they turn it on at 12:00 every day, which was kind of weird. But the thing was still quite pretty, despite the fact that we couldn't see the tall part of the falls because of all the mist and the sun being right over the top of it. But I didn't care. Waterfalls are the most beautiful things to look at in the world. It made me care a lot less that we took the wrong train connection on the way back and we had to wait another 2 hours for the next one.

Classes seem to be good, too except Music Theory II which is taught by a man who speaks little English and still tries to teach well beyond the scope of the class and drills us constantly with useless repetition for 2 1/2 hours. But the other classes are going to be quite exhilarating. My private composition teacher wants me to write movie scores, something I've never done before, so naturally I'm quite excited. I'm nervous, too, because I don't watch many movies, so I don't quite know where to begin, but maybe that will give me a unique, untainted perspective. My teacher liked my CD, so he knows I know how to write, but he also knows I have only done jazz so far, so he knows I have to work on my knowledge of "classical" instruments (eg. anything I haven't used before).

My renaissance history class should be good, and we all know I like history quite a lot. We'll be able to see the history we're studying up close, and the professor seems to be a very knowledgeable person on the subject he teaches. He's a native Florentine, but he speaks English with the same ease as me, and it's easy to tell he's a well-seasoned intellectual. As all history classes aim to do, this class will probably challenge my perspective on how I thought things work.

My Italian professoressa is a wonderfully energetic person. I already know more than I should from studying on the train to Terni with the other music students, and as always I have been very interested in the language. At this point, all I need is a clear, energetic teacher and I'll be on my way to speaking fluent Italian. I hope. I did buy a melodica without speaking a word of English in the music store. It makes me want to take all sorts of language classes back home and become trilingual, but there's probably no time. All this professor needs to do is facilitate my own energy, and she's been doing a wonderful job this week.

Music History, well, we'll have to see how that goes, but the class got me a free ticket to Madame Butterfly, so no matter what happens I've already got a lot out of that class. Jazz Ensemble is still a big question mark. The leader is a killer trumpet player who would give Billy Buss a run for his money (did I actually just say that?), and it's got that sextet instrumentation I like. I just hope we can get away from head-solos-head-out. Last time we played 5 or 6 tunes and only one sounded like a song rather than a bunch of solos. Maybe we'll get better at this as time goes on, giving songs shape and form on their own. If not, I don't know how I'll survive.

Music Announcements

I am currently writing, outside of class, of course, an epic piece. I intend on making the thing a suite that, provided I get the Jazz School gig again this summer, will last an entire set of music. It didn't start out that way, but it sort of just unfolded as a single piece with a unified story line despite many threads. I call it "Guest Artist" and I'm arranging it for the Inspiration Sextet. I am very excited about this piece. It should be the hardest I've ever worked on a single musical project. I hope I have enough time between visits to the Uffizi to work on it! (Oh, by the way, I get infinite free visits to the Uffizi and other museums as long as I'm in Florence, and I get to skip the lines. !!!!)

CD of the Week

Jason Lindner: Live at the Jazz Gallery

This is probably the most innovative big band sounds I have heard since Peter Apfelbaum released his new Hieroglyphics CD, possibly even more so, sorry, Peter. I have always said the Jazz Gallery is the best jazz club in New York, and this is because they regularly employ musicians like Lindner and his compatriots, Miguel Zenon, Dwayne Eubanks, Anat Cohen, Omer Avital, and others. The only complaint about the club is that it is not very good for recording a live show, and the trumpet section suffers The two disc set is pleasantly melodic and off-beat at the same time. Lindner has a wonderful feel for rhythm, though the melodies take charge of the show, as well as the virtuosity of his soloists. He has a pristine ability to balance modal vamp sections with melodic diversions, ideas that aren't what we expect but still make sense and propel us in a new direction.

The reason I bring this album up in particular is that Jason Lindner is not just a wonderful composer but an outstanding arranger as well. One thing that bothers me a lot in jazz is when people use solos as an arrangement escape, inserting a solo where it sounds right according to the tradition of jazz without actually considering other options. Many composer/arrangers also fall prey to letting good thematic ideas simply sit undeveloped in the listener's ear, opting for more improvisation instead that either does or doesn't do anything to give the piece shape and flesh out the main themes. Jason Lindner falls prey to neither of these faults. He uses the themes he presents and continually develops them through his arrangements, getting the most out of every idea. This sounds so trivial, but trust me, it takes some searching to find someone who is willing to put this kind of work into this kind of arranging, especially for the big band he uses. Sometimes his endless manipulation of the themes backfires on him, and most times he seems to not know where to begin or end his thoughts (the beginnings and endings often leave something to be desired). On the whole, however, each piece represents a well-thought-out meditation on a theme, and very few do this as well as Lindner does.

As far as I am concerned, the only complaints I have other than the recording quality are these: 1) The ballads are nice pieces, but they don't command the same kind of attention as the other pieces, perhaps because he doesn't manipulate rhythm the same way. 2) Lindner plays an electric keyboard using sounds I don't like very much more than he should. Luckily, he sticks to the the baby grand during ensemble sections, opting for electricity only for his own features. Still, that's more than he should use the keyboards, though I am not blown away by his individual performance nearly as much as his guests.

All in all, I thought this was a great CD, and it has certainly given me inspiration when it comes to my own composing and arranging goals. At a time when most jazz is either trite or overly ambitious, this hits the spot. Besides David Binney and Ed Simon's "Oceanos," this is my favorite jazz CD of 2007.

Innovation: A-
Musicianship: A-
Entire CD: B
Individual Pieces: A-
Overall: A-

-Sam goldsmith

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