So Long, Decade One.

Wow !!

2000-2009

R.I.P. first decade of this century. You had a great run.

Monsieur Sitar

My newest buddy-thing. He's very complicated, but I love him.

Hopefully we will become good friends in due time...

Out on a Wintry Day

Rainy Evening on Hennepin Avenue, by Robert Koehler ca. 1902--hanging at M.I.A.

So, I did say in the Andrew Bird post that Saturday December the twelfth was filled with beautiful everything, and here I have those day time things. (I'm working backwards!)

The Minneapolis Institute of Arts is a wonderful place, and I've enjoyed going there a lot in the past few years. The resident-art is free to look at, and (save for a few over-zealous guards eyeing you down) an afternoon spent there is quiet and wondrous. I recommend it.

Anyway, currently, they have an exhibit of borrowed pieces of art from the Louvre. (!) My grandparents invited us to go look at it with them, and it is really nothing less than amazing. Although only the tiniest fraction of their art could be borrowed and brought across the sea, the ones that made the voyage are exceptional. There were archaic pieces, Da Vinci sketches preserved on their paper, and also there was The Astronomer. Present, in real life! Wow! This was a very special meeting for me! Do go, if you have the chance.

After we finished poring over the pieces in there, I spent hours more wandering about the rest of the museum (one could easily spend a week there and not get bored). The building itself is beautiful. The place is immaculate.
I looked out the multi-storey wall of windows, and saw a lovely panorama of a wintry Minnapolis. In the foreground were kids and their trails left by their sleds on the gentle hill with trees scattered, up to their ankles in white snow. The middle had some city streets and the various apartment blocks and the back held the classic line of sky-scrapers. It was a very pretty sight.Later, after having left the musee', we went back to the grandparents' place, where I left to take a walk. The weather was good; the air crisp but not harsh, no terrible wind, the sun casting light along the trees and the structures. It was beautiful. I stopped for a moment to take a fellow's photo with his bike on the greenway, then walked uptown. It wasn't terribly slushy yet, so I went on to cheapo records, where the warmth fogged up my spectacles. The sky began to dim, so I strode briskly back, reading Benjamin Franklin's autobiography to keep me company. I was met back at the grandparents' with grilled cheese sandwiches and hot chocolate, paired (oddly enough) with a can of tropical fruit bits. At any rate, I think my day epitomized the romantic and jazz aura of the town. And it proves that it actually can still exist and happen in that way. It's very lovely.

Ornithology and Stained Glass

It has almost been an entire week now that I get around to writing about this, but Gezelligheid is still stuck in my mind.

Saturday, December the twelfth was filled with most beautiful everythings; notably, Andrew Bird at Saint Mark's Episcopal Cathedral in Minneapolis. It was his third night playing his Gezelligheid shows here at this immaculate church plopped down in Loring, and the weather was crisp and promising. Sitting beneath the doubled Victrola was one bevested sock monkey. Andrew came on stage looking dapper as usual, albeit with a little five-o'clock-shadow about his face and mussed hair, with a slight limp, which he acquired the first night after smashing his heel in (as he told us). This show was largely instrumental, comprised of most beautiful melodies that Mr. Bird has been working on. He played these long, epic pieces, with masterful use of loop to layer under the cry of his dear fiddle, and the result was truly chilling. With every factor playing in, I venture to say that this was the most aesthetically beautiful show I have ever watched. I was stricken, at the time, by the realization of all the beauty. I try to paint it.

Try to imagine:
The all-encompassing sound of the violin loop, echoing off the ancient walls of this cathedral, and the quiet of all the listeners. Behind Andrew's sweet head was a startling wall of illuminated stained-glass ikons, illustrating some epic tale of yore, while this young man and the violin produced such sweet sounds that would make even Cremona's original inventors of the instrument proud. His elongated shadow jumped and twisted over the left wall, making a dark silhouette of a man and a bow in some passionate work. Projected on the immense beige walls behind were vibrant colors of cyan, magenta, green and white. Stephen (?) emerging to accompany Andrew on clarinet, then saxophone for the next song. Andrew knelt down to play and attend to the loop button, and Stephen (?) shaking while playing his sax madly, with insane other-worldly effects bending the sounds. Andrew's flowery and colorful gestures with his hands as he spoke to silent us. The shaking of his head while he whistled and plucked at the catgut. His ever un-conventional strumming of those strings and striking them, bouncingly, with the hard side of the bow. Natural Disaster. Stephen (?) on his standing bass, pulling and pounding his thumbs to rhythm. "Minnapolis has been like a home to me." An old song, from the Bowl of Fire days... The Swimming Hour-- so beautiful. And another new one, and finish with Scythian Empires. We stood and clapped and clapped and clapped and he came back out, and played a little Bob Dylan, with Oh Sister. My, was it wonderful. Very special indeed.

'And Russia was a Candy - Store.'

Recently, I visited the Museum of Russian Art, a lovely church-turned museum in Minneapolis, to look at their Nesting-Doll Exhibit. Indeed those little lacquer dolls are interesting little things, and this exhibit (though not overwhelmingly big) was quite nice, ranging from tiny painted peasant women to world figures to even tinier painted aristocratic women. While there, I also saw some startlingly beautiful old-ish and new-ish portraits and landscapes by Russian artists, and on the middle and tallest level, respectively.

In loose relation, I want to also bring up another startling beauty I found in the the music of one Nesey Gallons. He popped up awhile ago now, over in Elephant Six-land, and I am really taken with his songs. He has out one LP officially--Eyes & Eyes & Eyes Ago (ignoring those home-released discs, although I hope to see them too, someday)-- and it is just wonderful. I recommend it to people. (Incidentally, I actually spotted Mr. Nesey at a show once, [he's cute, too] but I was too bashful to say anything.) Anyway, his circles are released by his record label called Hurrah for Karamazov ( Dostoyevsky is brilliant) and much of his work tangles back to Russian themes. You see, there IS a connection. At any rate, his music is just so chillingly nice, sung in a forlorn, soft-spoken wail, with his guitar and dear Julian's accompaniments of saw, chord organ, and countless things. All together, it makes a big stew of niceties to the ears. Indeed melancholy may seem the mood, but when I hear Nesey's music, I always feel happy and hopeful. He is sort of the new kid, but from what I have been fortunate enough to hear, he's as marvelous and seasoned as the rest of that wonderful old collective. That's quite a nice thing.

It was a Cliché.

Today I saw something delightful.

I was walking through the hallway, and I saw a poor girl misstep, and she slipped and fell on a banana peel!! The cliche banana-peel fall, and in all genuineness! It made me laugh and smile all day.

Fragments and Droplets of Wonderfulness.

Swingsets :: Grandparents :: Old family photographs :: Ginkgo trees :: Shared deep thought :: The package waiting for you in the mail when you return :: Sitting in trees on windy days :: Spinning for a long time :: Suliko :: Books, especially with characters that are you :: You :: Wonderful, wonderful kind people :: Strawberry freezer jam on homemade bread :: Psychedelia and it beautiful music :: Joe :: A stream of water running over hands :: Connections with people, especially strangers :: Feelings of things :: A good fountain pen :: Papers of different types :: Librarys :: Old things :: Crackles and pops on records :: Rainy stormies :: Bicycles :: Newspaper :: Fruit :: The jarring and beautifully ethereal singing of Julian :: Being with Julian and Co. while he sings :: Bananas :: Finding the first music you really really love :: Soft broken in jersey knit fabric :: Closed eyes :: Relaxing your entire self into a soft bed :: Hot oatmeal with milk :: Brilliant colors in leaves and skies :: Lying in some grassy sunshine :: so many things...

The Scary Zone

Halloween, with eerie sixties twilight zone-esque family photos. I wish everyone much fright.

Tom Rush at the Cedar

At the beginning of the week, my father presented me with a concert ticket of one of his very favorite artists, Tom Rush. In all honesty, I knew nothing about Mr. Rush's music. I think I knew one song. Darn young people these days.
So the shindig last night took place at the Cedar Cultural Center, where I hope to visit numerous times more in the future. I shook hands with Tom himself before the show, and he seems to be quite a gentle fellow (and I think he bears slight resemblance to Mark Twain). He played a long set, (none of which I knew--oi!), with one intermission. I must say, being an objective listener, he's got loads of talent. Whether you're into folksy-folk or not, to stand up there with only an acoustic guitar like he did and make songs have substance, and real bottom, takes musicality. And he's funny, telling jokes and sardonic stories of past times, nonchalantly talking about a bus trip he spent with the likes of Janis Joplin, the Grateful Dead, and Buddy Guy, to name a few. One song in particular stuck out, "Panama Unlimited," I think it was called? He made his guitar sing so nicely, you could really hear its voice. Very smooth indeed.

As an afterthought, I couldn't help feeling a little out of place. The atmosphere gave me a vibe of an era long past, where everyone who saw its heyday was trying to resurrect it. Even people talked of way back when, when such and such bar was still open. It gave me just a hint of melancholy. I've not even yet entered my "golden age" yet, but I'm already feeling sad about how things will be once it has passed. Change happens, and it's inevitable, I suppose. But traces of those eras still linger in the city culture and people. It's interesting, and makes me mumble, "H'm...."

Furry eared things and other interesting bits.

I have a new object of affection. She's named Pebbles, and she's the sweetest little baby bunny ever. I love her so much. And she's getting fat.
I've been having such an unhealthy obsession with books as of late. I love books, I love them. I love everything about them, I love reading them, and holding them in my hands, I love their smells. It's just so good. I want to read so many, so many. There's not time enough though right now, I'm afraid. So many books I want to get in; I don't even know about half of them yet, I'm sure. I want to be the keeper of an enormous library full of books in every language of every genre. That would be so very wonderful.
It has been making so much wind here, I flew a kite last week. It was so amazing. There were stormy gusts of wind to knock one over, and they caught themselves under that kite and took it as far as the string allowed. We really did run out of string. It was so high above the trees, it could have been a hazard to air traffic. It really was just the best. You know, I believe that it was the Chinese who invented the kite. The Chinese invented lots, they often don't get the credit, though (I'm looking at you, movable-type being credited to Gutenberg). But I digress. Either way, I recommend kite-flying to you, regardless of your opinions on movable-type.

A Short Anecdote from Grade One.

Here, I 've very brief story from my youth (which wasn't very long ago at all).
It was Mrs. Olive's first grade class, and we were to take a survey on a very controversial matter: that of favorite colors. Mine was undoubtedly orange. I had even found friendship with a classmate, who also favored orange. This should have been an easy thing.
But immediately, it all began to fall apart. Mrs. O. called around the room asking each kid what was there favorite color? Red, blue, red, blue, red, red, blue, red... and so on. (Childhood political party affiliations, perhaps?) Until my orange comrade--"Orange. " It crept up to me, and during the wait I was having a terrible trial in my mind, something á la Jean Valjean. I didn't want to stick out from the vast sea of Blues and Reds and say something so passe as orange... but I knew my Orange friend would know I was lying. Finally, it was my turn-- and I uttered "Blue."

Everyone picked blue or red, except for the single Orange. I regret the vote even now, because it's so against my free-thinking code. Just because I wanted to blend and fit in to that purple mess of kids, I forsaked my first love, Orange. Don't let it happen to you. Tell them your favorite color, my friends, and do it with confidence!

The Music Tapes present: Song for Planet Pluto

This rumour-song has finally surfaced over at the Townhall, much to our surprise and glee:


Hey thanks, Pitchfork!

A song for Pluto, that poor once-planet. The song is very pretty and very meaningful, and the cute video complements it perfectly. It's a sort of humorous melancholy little piece. But it works out in the end, so it's all right. Also, hello there, Kevin Barnes, I didn't know you were an astronomy enthusiast--it's nice seeing you again. Woo, Julian, I like your songs. Trum didi didi trum trum rum a dum.

Birthday!

Today is my birthday, WOO! In honor of the holiday (heh), I have for you my favorite birthday party photo ever, directly from the Grandparents' archives..

There's old Antonio, little Marc the man of the hour, Mary, and Gary. For me, this is just the best photo... look at those kids' faces! Their eyes and smiles are so cute and they say so much. Regretfully, I think that the poor old clown cake got brutally cut and eaten shortly after having this photo taken, but you know, I never get tired of looking at this one.

The Breeders at the Fine Line

Went to see the Breeders again yesterday, and they really never fail to amaze me. This show was arguably even better than last year's... and that's saying something. Maybe it's because I was directly under Kim for this one...
They opened with "Hoverin'," while Kim manned the snare (well, mostly-- I know your drumroll secret, Kim) and sang. Kim and Kelley are as cool as ever. They're a perfectly polite and amiable pair. I love them both. Cheryl seems well acclamated now, as well. She handled herself surprisingly well when Kelley ripped out one of her red dreadlocks. Plan on seeing a Kelley Deal bag with an ratty old red dread for the handle in the future. Mando and Jose didn't talk much, as usual, but they played their instruments phenomenally (like always). There was no lack of variety with songs from every album, plus Amps. Their sets are always great... they don't neglect their older albums like some bands will. The Breeders, they've got it down. They know how to put on a great show, and they do everytime.

P.S.--I love you Kim, and I'm happy I got to experience you spitting on me!

Creepy Skull Cloud

The bony face, can you see it? An omen, maybe? Dear me, I hope not.

Conglomeration

First: Let us wish our dear Nelson Mandela happy birthday. Happy 91st, Madiba! You're a hero!

Next: Going to see the Breeders again on August the 11th. I'm getting pretty ecstatic about that. Plus, I learned how to properly open a banana--hint, try pinching the other side. I've been playing my saw on the roof and I got a pair of sunglasses at the antique store for 400 cents that make me look like Dr. Strangelove and I've begun the construction of my tiny cardboard house. Lots of things I've done.

And, I have gotten through most of one of the grandparents' photo albums, which I dubbed the Brown Album. Sounds like a Beatles or Weezer type of name, doesn't it. This one was filled with zillions of old ones of my grand-relatives and their relatives and it is all just brilliant. Here I have

a couple of my favorites. On the left is my late Uncle Butch (recall?) holding a rat he caught. The little mobster on the right is my Grandpa Tony, whom I idolize, standing ring with a huge pile of wood making for a picturesque backdrop. These are circa 1935 or 36, making Butch and Grandpa around 13 and 9 years old, respectively.

Honestly, I never get tired of looking at these. Maybe it's just a personal obsession, but when I look at them it's like visiting an alternate space, and I try to piece that these are the people I know. Time, man, it's a bloody spaceship. I'll put up more of these soon, hopefully.

Out of the Archives

I am beginning a great effort this summer to copy all my grandparents' old photos into digital. The idea began this year while searching for a single photo of my great-grandfather Antonio, when I was shown album after album after album of wonderful old photos of my predecessors, most of whom I never got to meet! To me, it's some sort of trove; hundreds of fading, black-and-whites that show the people who've put me here. It's both an aesthetic pleasure as well as a historical one. It's all there, but it's vulnerable, too. I wouldn't want some freak accident (volcanic eruption, alien invasion, return of the super-ape) to go and ruin them all. And so begins my quest...

Delicious

This is the most amazingly delicious thing anyone can ever eat on the planet earth, and I have a stash of it. Oh yes. It's the time of year when my wonderful Grandmum makes her strawberry freezer jam, and she gave me five jars. Oh, it tastes so good. I eat it by spoonfuls right out of the jar. It is the greatest memory and taste of my life, I think. Oishii, as they say.

Stuff.

The school year ended yesterday for me, and in all the hubbub I managed to finish one last art project. The Music Tapes show of February had affected me so wonderfully, I thought I would make some Music Tapes-inspired bits. I suppose you could call them "jewelry," but I guess when I was making them I wasn't really thinking jewelry as much as little metal bits. Also, they make a chiming sound when you have them all together on strings (perfect).

Record Show!

On Saturday the mums and I went to a neat little record show at the VFW on Lyndale Ave. in Minneapolis that my dear old teacher Mr. Lewis had been promoting in his room for a while. It was raining like a pissing cow that day, but we had fun and enjoyment anyways. We spent some two hours flipping through all the milk-crates of records and 45s and talking to the vendors (some of whom were pretty interesting cats), and I ended up picking up a few things I've never heard of, and thought I would just try them all out. I got some albums by the bands Brian Brain, Fungus Brains, and the Posterchildren, plus some lovely Greek vocal stylings by Nana Moskouri, a Russian Orchestral Pieces record, and some Hungarian Gypsy Melodies. This show was fun. I think I've found my self a new hobby or maybe obsession.

The Breeders: Fate to Fatal (Reprise)

Oh yes.

This was setting on my stoop today and I'm pretty excited about having it. I set the needle on it right away, and I must say, it's really good. Yes.

The Breeders: Fate to Fatal

The Breeders have a new EP coming out on Tuesday entitled "Fate to Fatal," about which I am feeling pretty happy. They're releasing with recognition to Record Store Day, which quite possibly is my new favorite holiday. With Mountain Battles out just last year, it's good to see another release from the Deals, who are wonderful. And hopefully, a tour, so I can see them again. The "Fate to Fatal" video is up now, and it's a really cool song. It's just... cool. So keen sounding. Here, have a listen:



And don't forget about Breeders Digest.

Andrew Bird at the State Theatre

Saturday the eleventh of April, my mum and I watched Andrew Bird play his lovely violin at the (historic) State Theatre in Minneapolis. We've both seen him before, but this time was really smashing.
His buddy artist Haley Bonar opened up for him, and although I can't say I'm a huge fan of her style of music, she's got a beautiful voice and represents Minneapolis well. She made another appearance later in the night, but I'll get to that in a moment.

So, our dear Andrew came out playing his violin and removing his shoes. He moves his stockinged feet and sways those hips just to make us swoon, I think. He played lovely pieces on his violin, and after awhile the rest of his band came out to join him. They played a lot from Noble Beast, including the wonderful 'Masterswarm,' 'Effigy' (which he explained was about that guy who sits at the end of the bar, sketching weird things in his notebook), and a jazzed-up version of 'Fitz and Dizzyspells.' And a bit later, 'Armchairs.' (Oh, wow). Time's a crooked bone, indeed. Of course he did the regulars, 'Dr. Stringz,' and 'Nervous tic motion,' during which he sporadically threw his head to the left. And later, he recruited Ms. Bonar to sing with him on 'Scythian Empires,' which was quite beautiful. They finished with 'Fake Palindromes,' which was a final burst of energy, to say the least, but he wasn't quite finished. He came out and did an encore, which included 'Table and Chairs' and another one in which he spoke along the words while playing his violin, as if it is a part of him. He painted pictures with his arms and hands, with all these flowery gestures that we never got to see at Rock the Garden. He belongs onstage in the theatre, I think. After that, he left the stage, only to come back for a second encore. Nice.

Dreadfully, all the photos I took are blurry enough to cause seizures, so I'll sample one of the better ones here:

[I know, it's pretty bad.]

The Music Tapes.

On February the 24th, I enjoyed myself thoroughly at the 7th Street Entry in Minneapolis watching the Music Tapes. Go see them. Do it. You won't regret it. I promise.
Of course, we can't forget that our beloved Brian Dewan and Nana Grizol were opening for Julian and friends.
So, I talked it up with a friendly kid who was into Elephant 6 a lot, like myself, and we waited and observed. Everyone was bouncing about the place, setting up, and there was a perpetual line for the toilet, but that's besides the point.
Brian Dewan began his wonderfully strange set on one of his swanky machines. He sang delightful songs of Charlie who lives at the hardware store, mechanical arms, and cadavers. And, a nice little cover of a rap tune about Pres. Obama. He manned the accordian and autoharp while slamming back a beer, and the wonderful Laura Carter played the melody box- thing on his final song.
I didn't know much about them beforehand, but I learned that night that Nana Grizol is cool. Some bands have that. They're just cool. Nana Grizol is cool. So, they played some energized songs for us, and Theo (handsome) told us a joke about a panda who went to a restaurant and "eats, shoots, and leaves." Oh ho, Theo, you're clever. Their set passed fairly quickly, and before I realized, they were leaving the stage.
We then watched a short colored film strip by Mr. Dewan called The Age of Innovation (I think). It was partly humorous, but also partly thought provoking. I think that Mr. Dewan is probably quite brilliant, wouldn't you agree?

And then, there were the Music Tapes. Julian and everyone were just... great. They played a bunch of Music Tapes songs new and old, and Julian told amusing anecdotes throughout. Static made his appearance during "a Ukrainian folk song that encourages singing televisions to sing," and our portly old Metronome kept some steady beats. Julian happily stummed his banjo and bowed his reliable saw, playing us music to make you happy. There was something euphoric about it all. His closed-eyes vocals were ethereal... and it put me in another world. Just brilliant.
After a while, Julian came down onto the floor and sat on a euphonium case, as we planted it around him. Like a campfire, almost. There, he coaxed his saw Badger to sing us The First Noel, and mentioned how Badger's grandparents were there that night. Then he told us about the game. Which I think I should keep secret, to preserve the mystery. But I will say that it involved fire and bells. Anyway, after the game Julian said that they were going to play "a song we don't know very well... called 'C'... oh no it's called 'C#.'" And so they played their 'C#' beautifully, ended the night with the epic song. Afterwards, I talked with Julian briefly, getting a photograph and hugging his sweaty frame good night. He's an absolutely amazing person, and honestly, this might have been my favorite show yet. Go to a Music Tapes concert sometime. It will change your life.

For Your Reading Pleasure

My grandparents just returned from vacationing in Israel a few weeks ago, (a gutsy move right now, wouldn't you say?) and brought back for me a souvenir Israeli newspaper, plus a German one from their Frankfurt layover stop.
Anyway, here are some samples:

Of course, I'm sad to say that I don't know a lick of either language, but I get this child-like fascination with things I don't see everyday. That probably sounds a tad geekish. Ah well, I can still look at the pictures.

Lefty.

I have supported the new President of the U.S. Barack Obama for some time now. Since I started following the campaign I liked his plans and ideas, his beliefs, that charisma, and in all vanity I have to admit, he's pretty handsome as far as a president goes. You cannot deny that much. But just this week while watching him in action on the telly, I learned something new and exciting about the Pres. Something that only about 15% of the population can say they are (source).
Yes, President Obama is indeed left-handed. A Zurdo, if you know Español. Since I myself am a Zurda, I feel a special connection to other lefties. It's stupid, I know, and we have had other left-handed presidents, but I still maintain that we lefties are an interesting sort. We can understand one another when we complain about the sides of our hands getting all dirtied with pencil from having to run them over all the words we just wrote. Anyway. I just thought I'd mention it.
You know, it sort of made my day.

Simple X

I found this old school bell in a desolate corner of my high school a bit ago. Not only does it conjure nostalgia for me, it also bears the name of a dandy song by Dosh and/or Andrew Bird, so it caught my eye. I'm not sure if I should say it is by Dosh or Andrew Bird though. I know Martin Dosh wrote the original song, but that's called 'Simple Exercises,' whereas the one with Andrew's voice and lyrics is actually called 'Simple X.'

Either way, what I'm not so smoothly trying to segue into is the news that the mum and I are going to see Mr. Bird again in April! Cannot wait. I can't give my opinion on his latest Noble Beast (mostly because I haven't gotten to the record store to buy it), but I'm sure it's brilliant, like most everything he's done. I liked the singles that I've heard, so here's to hoping the rest of the CD is good too.
And for what my little praising and recommendation is worth, go visit both artists on their websites:
Dosh. and Andrew Bird.

Of the Lost and Found

I found this handsome bass in my basement last night for the first time. How long have we had this? Years, apparently. Oi! I had no idea. It's really quite lovely, and I hope I'll have time to play it up soon.

It's been a while since I was last here. I will try to come back more, although I know I'm writing essentially to myself. But I've been known to do that anyway. I like it. Now it's just electronic, too. But I haven't forsaken my old ways, oh no.

Well, to end on a sour note, my great uncle Butch has died. He's gone to sleep in my memory, and now his back and hip doesn't have that itch. Many found him to be aloof, which he was, but if you did get to talk to him, it was nothing but a pleasure. I enjoyed his company, myself. He was the only person I have known who could pet those chipmunks.