inspiration: tonight you belong to me

see a fine ad: street magic

this ad is sweet.

(via mike/big filipino)

hear a little song/the kids are alright

i think we need to liven up this dreary wednesday with a little west side story/bernstein mambo, courtesy of gustavo dudamel and venezuela's simon bolivar youth orchestra.

i first caught this on ovation in january--and it's on again now, which is what inspired me to share this today--and i could not contain myself. i was dancing around and applauding as if they could hear me.

a few notes: the musicians in the simon bolivar youth orchestra were trained in "el sistema"--a music program established in 1975 by the economist jose antonio abreu. it is a state funded program, which as of 2007 included 102 youth and 55 childrens orchestras. roughly 250,000 children participate, 90% of them from poor socio-economic backgrounds.

mr. dudamel himself learned to play the violin through el sistema--and eventually studied composition and conducting. he began conducting the youth orchestra at 15, was appointed its musical director within a few years.

in 2009, at the age of 26, he began his tenure as the musical director of the los angeles philharmonic.


(the nj all-state children's band, circa 1980, could offer up a solid version of macarthur park and the liberty bell. but we didn't sound like this.)




this is the finale, that made me go bananas! love everyone whooping it up at the end.

see a...something

what the whaaaat?

i am thunderstruck.

next up: a guest spot on private practice? because kate walsh has sure looked ready to devour him...

hear a little song: let my love open the door

my mom isn't a football fan but yesterday she watched the big game and cheered for my colts, which was nice and mom-ly of her.

just after halftime she called to offer a little encouragement and ask a few questions. the first was about downs and yardage. then she wanted the lowdown on drew brees--"he's cute. how old is he? is he married?" and the last (maybe my favorite question of the night): "who are these guys, the who? they're pretty good, but they're kinda old..."

they are, indeed.

i couldn't offer her much more--i didn't really have the heart to go into all the drama i learned from the "behind the music" special--i was distracted by the game. i never gravitated toward their sound, but my mom is kind of a "british rock" lady, after a fashion (eric clapton, dire straits) so she might like some of their songs. maybe she and i will have a listening party next time i'm home.

i'm more inclined toward this cover of the townsend tune, which might be a tad mellow for her.

but oh when the strings swell, i swoon.

hope you like...

thank you (george)

i've spent the last couple of hours sitting in our family room (the basement) with my dad, half-watching a college basketball game (sun devils vs. blue devils) and half-looking for a good thanksgiving poem to post. I had with me on the couch the thickest poetry book I could find –a good old norton anthology--but not even part of one, from yeats to baraka, seemed right.

admittedly, the ambiance i chose for this exercise wasn't really poetry-friendly (dick vitale's "alliterative commentaries,” even though i've heard them all before, are still pretty distracting).

i could have gone to my room, re-started the search in relative silence and with several other books to peruse. but i wanted more to just sit in a room with my dad, to be around in case something came up that we felt like chatting about. or he thought of a good joke. i decided to save the poetry for another time.

after both my parents called it a night, i got my second wind and started singing a favorite george harrison tune (remember, the family is asleep, so i can do this out loud) and it occurred to me that this song fits the giving/grateful theme as good as any poem. or maybe it’s late and i’m crazy. anyway, it’s where my heart is. hope you like it.




i’ve been on a george jag for the last couple of weeks so here’s one more. it's really quite good live.



happy thanksgiving.

tripping the light fantastic: more from the gap

hip-hop! (choreographed by toni basil, featuring a very young wade robson)



go-go dancing (my specialty?)
song: wild elephants (blow up a go go) by james clarke.




a matthew rolston directed "swing" number (with marco mazzei, dp), to louis prima's jump, jive, an' wail...



have you ever tried country line dancing? actually quite fun...

hear a little song: lovely day

this song, lovely day (aka dan and liz's wedding song, and "the ricky ledée song"--hear it? loveledéeloveledéeloveledée love le-dée) is one of the most played on my ipod.

the bass line, and the cymbals? oh, those cymbals.

feeling blue? it might help.

and here's 30-more seconds of joy, via the gap khaki soul commercial, directed by hype williams and choreographed by fatima robinson.




i've spent part of the morning looking at the series of spots from this campaign--
will post more later...

tgtt (too good to title)

while searching for information about a "great teachers" event that i'm supposed to attend uptown on thursday, i found my way to the jazzman testifies, an article about one of my favorite teachers, professor robert g. o'meally. professor o'meally is the zora neale hurston professor of literature at columbia university and the founder of the university's center for jazz studies. it's fair to say that barnard and columbia had its share of celebrated professors, some who strutted through bi-weekly lectures and others whose amazing dullness belied their stellar scholarly reputation.

but professor o'meally was of a different class. the kind of person who made you relax, but also sit up straight. he was smooth--quietly elegant in every manner, from the way he dressed to the way he addressed us. his lectures were instructive of course, but he seemed to want more to guide and inspire conversation. the class wasn't merely about listening to music-- it was about a culture that was alive. and he presented it with an urgency and earnestness. if you listen to this npr interview, "the intersection of jazz and social protest," conducted by farai chideya in 2008, you'll have an idea of what he's like.

i remember how well he listened--leaning in, ear-first, sometimes nodding, as if we were musicians trading fours. i loved that he often said "agreed!" instead of "yes!" (for a time i tried to adopt that exclamation as an o'meally homage.) i don't know how much i excelled in that class, but i felt encouraged in the inquiries i attempted (not surprisingly, sometimes about sports and photography and improvisation).

***

i've spent that last couple of nights looking though my notebook (yes, i still have it. and boy, was my handwriting nice back then). i'll need to refer back to the texts for a proper de-coding of some. i do wish i had taken better notes about the music that he played for every class intro.

t.g.t.t. (too good to title), performed by alice babs, one of duke ellington's favorite singers, has been a favorite since he played it for us (unfortunately, i don't seem to be able to find a link with the full track). so, too, with heaven which ellington wrote expressly for her. i teared up the first time i heard it--and i still can't comprehend the notes she hits for this number. she may be just a touch off in the live recording. sadder to me is this video doesn't show the full performance of johnny hodges on alto sax. you can hear him on the cd recording of the second sacred concert.

"stop being a baby"

i am not really going to sit here before you and start bleating about work because a) it is work (and "work is good") and b) there's really nothing SO bad about it that would be worth going into with you tonight (i.e. "no one will die" except maybe me, a little bit, inside, every day until this project ends).

but let's just say, of late, what has transpired between the hours between 9:30 and 6:30...and then 7:30 to midnight has left me dumbstuck and directionless. i'm doing my best to hoop-jump and juggle but i'm losing my footing and my grip. everyone is unsatisfied, including me.

i''ll be working from home the rest of the night. that's not too bad a thing. 30 rock will be on later...and i can listen to music all night too.

in lieu of a happy pill, i'll be listening to happy music...

how about some english beat? some special beat service?

***
my sister wore deep grooves into one track on the lp :"i confess." i don't think I fully appreciated that ultra cool song at the time, in part because it was hers. if i was gonna like the english beat at all, i needed my own songs. the sweet "tears of a clown" and the frenzied "sole salvation" were really the only two tracks i bothered with.

but in listening to "the best of" on the ipod, i've discovered the charms of others.

especially "best friend." this brings out the teenager in me.



how about saxa in this video? love him...



and this is sweet:



***
finally...back to "sole salvation." i fell in love with the tempo changes, the bass, the horns... but i have never really known the lyrics (except "we never feel the power of our own hands...do it right, do it now here there everywhere shouting out i'm as mad as hell...stop being a baby!...stop! ... have a heart but don't take mine" and something later on about "a woman's understanding." and obviously, "sole salvation"). i just dance around to it.

but it turns out there are a hell of a lot of words in between, so many more than i could have imagined, so this little video was informative AND entertaining. love that the producer even added caveats about spelling, technical credits and citations.

enjoy! (and i'll stop being a baby)

"too hot" (and read a good poem/wild for my melon toddie)

i like the groove of the original track but this live version is fun...

i've been spending most of these last few dog days indoors, practicing my picture-taking, summer cleaning, and reading "hot, flat, and crowded"-- which i thought would be the super-clever title of a post that i planned to write from (or about our family trip to) the philippines. but it was really not so very hot there at all. and it was not really so very crowded as, at least for the first week, we were virtually the only guests at a sprawling golf resort...

the pool at malarayat golf resort...july 2009...

i did make it out to greenpoint on saturday to share some birthday cheer with my friend, reid, aka "rad reid," a bona fide philly soul if there ever was one. i indulged in a few refreshing servings of watermelon soaked in vodka. sweet! and no hangover. though i did have a crazy two-part dream that involved one very handsome writer/editor friend...and i woke up with my bedsheet wrapped around me like a toga...

***
in the spirit of that melon "toddie," i'll share a poem from virginia hamilton adair.
i've re-printed one of her poems here once before and i'll happily re-link to the pbs online newshour interview that introduced me to her work. enjoy.

Ants on the Melon

Once when our blacktop city

was still a topsoil town

we carried to Formicopolis

a cantaloupe rind to share

and stooped to plop it down

in their populous Times Square

at the subway of the ants

and saw that hemisphere

blacken and rise and dance

with antmen out of hand

wild for their melon toddies

just like our world next year

no place to step or stand

except on bodies.

summer fling: phoenix

i'm having a summer fling with this song.




i have no idea what they are saying. ("gentleman only"? lisztomania? the film?) but does it matter? it just makes me feel so good when i hear it. i'm not going to think much beyond that.

(fling, remember?)

i have a thing for the gentle groove in this one too. (i'm going to totally date myself by asking if anyone else hears a little leo sayer goin' on here?)

surfer girl

in a few days, i head over to the mother-island--the philippines-- for two weeks.

and i'm flipping out a little.
think it's the 22 hour flight?
or, manila's real feel temperature of...114.8?
the 83% humidity?

hell no. i can't worry about that til TUESDAY.

it's all the work i have to do from now til then.
hooray!
(is it possible to feel your hair graying?)

but you know what? i've got a nice glass of white wine, some nice beach-y music on, and so far tonight i've been surprisingly productive. i feel like i can go for a few more hours.

and...here are a few of the many tunes that will keep me going...

"roda" (try not snapping your hips to this one)

"batucada"

and 2 versions of "wave":

the first is the sergio mendes version, and then a very nice jobim...

"just catch the wave don't be afraid of loving me"






***
and because tom jobim's lyrics are so beautiful, here's the translation:


so close your eyes
for that's a lovely way to be
aware of things your heart alone was meant to see
the fundamental loneliness goes whenever two can dream a dream together

you can't deny
don 't try to fight the rising sea
don't fight the moon, the stars above and don't fight me
the fundamental loneliness goes whenever two can dream a dream together

when I saw you first the time was half past three
when your eyes met mine it was eternity
by now we know
the wave is on its way to be
just catch the wave don't be afraid of loving me
the fundamental loneliness goes whenever two can dream a dream together

the way you make me feel (a cappella)

this track is too fun not to share. this a cappella version came out right around my freshman year of college. for a long time, it was only available on the bad cassette. yeah the cassette. my best friend, katie, and i played it all the time, and searched high and low for it in a format that wouldn't require rewinding, and rewinding, and rewinding. (plus, back then, you were wise to have back-up copy of your favorite songs, a pristine record or multiple copies of the tape.)

i still haven't seen it on any cd, but i'm sure its available somehow, somewhere.

enjoy.

michael jackson: never can say goodbye

friends have been sharing, via facebook and twitter and text, sadness over michael jackson's death at the too young age of 50. and friends who i share a long history with remember me as someone who was crazy enough to collect--and save--all the billboard magazines that chronicled the record-breaking sales and accolades for "thriller" and spend hours learning the choreography from all the "thriller" videos (and then actually perform them for people! ha) and they are sending nice notes to me, thinking that i would be devastated. but i have been sad about him--and for him--for years. he seemed so very soul-sick...

his exceeding strangeness nearly soured me on the music--but so much of it is too good to try to forget, isn't it? "off the wall," is in regular rotation here at home (more than "thriller") and since re-discovering the jacksons' "triumph" a couple of years ago, i've been playing that a lot too. i cue it up on the ipod just about every other day. maybe you've seen me dancing in the streets to lovely one? can you feel it? and this lesser known, but great disco track? it's a real pick-me-up on a slow day:



***
someone posed the question once of "my favorite jackson 5 song." so many good ones, got to be there...who's loving you...

but mine is, without question, never can say goodbye.

i love how he breaks it down at the end of the album recording--the way he sings "don't wanna let you go-oh..." "ooh ooh baay-be..." and "no no no, oooh aaw..."

this version doesn't quite have the same yearning, but the early performances are always worth a look.




remember the time, indeed...

read a good poem, or hear one read by nadal and fed

I found this 2008 wimbledon video of roger federer and rafael nadal reading kipling's "IF," via a post by thomas lin, on the straight sets blog, on the nytimes.com.

tonight i will be heading out to jla studios in dumbo for something called the gelf's varsity letters sports reading series--si tennis authority and tennis mag contributor l. jon wertheim be there to chat about his book, strokes of genius: federer, nadal, and the greatest match ever played.

IF you don't already have plans, i suggest heading out there. it's a great lineup of writers, and brooklyn is beautiful in the rain.

***
IF

IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

--Rudyard Kipling

madonna, marion, and mondino...

i've been on a little madonna kick for a couple of weeks, ever since nikki, an instructor at my gym, threw a little "express yourself" into the mix for our ballet barre class. (one thing about nikki--she's about 4 inches shorter than me--and i am right around 5 feet--but her legs? oh, about 6 inches longer than mine. amazing.)

the "don't tell me" video, directed by jean baptiste mondino, with alex barber as dp, is an all-time favorite. a deceptively simple idea, the video deconstructed, but so stylishly executed: her on the automated walkway and dancing on the set; the second location, with beautiful big blue sky and way out west imagery; the third, with the fellas dancing in the desert; and then everyone on set at the end.

aaaand, i can't get enough of alex magno's choreography. i've dreamed about learning that dance, but so far, i've only got the last bit, the hip-shaking. ah well, it's a start.

***

i do love mr. mondino's photography; if i could figure out how to get indoor light to look like it does here (marion cotillard in the kitchen!), it would be an achievement worthy of the thesaurus: significant, magnificent, miraculous, monumental...and those words would still not be enough.

marion cotillard, photographed by jean baptiste mondino, for french elle's special "green issue" (feb 2009). via mondino's official site.

i adore this, too:

marion cotillard, photographed by jean baptiste mondino, for french elle's special "green issue" (feb 2009). via mondino's official site.

***
i've been picking up some interesting lighting tips via twitter, but if you can de-code the lighting scenario here, i'd love to hear what you think...

in any case, more of mondino here at the official site. they've curated the images nicely, so it won't take long to scroll through all the pages. unless you want it to...

some ultra-enthusiastic fan has created this site, if you want more, more, more. it's quite a catalog!

"habits so hard to break, and so easy to make..."

my ipod resurrected this tune for me...
it suits the city today, a little moody, a little groovy...
enjoy...

celebrate: bewitched, bothered, and bewildered

today is the birthday of lorenz hart-- new yorker, columbia alum, romantic, lovely and lonely lyricist, and lifelong collaborator with richard rodgers. hughson mooney wrote a brief, but interesting bio on hart in which he suggest that hart's lyrics, perhaps even better than cole porter's, reflected the voice of the urban, upper-middle class generation between the first and second world wars. porter was saucier, racier, more urbane--and i favor, on the whole, his work. but boy, can hart ever do love, melancholy, clever yearning:

bewitched, bothered, and bewildered

after one whole quart of brandy
like a daisy i'm awake
with no bromo seltzer handy,
i don't even shake

men are not a new sensation;
i've done pretty well, i think.
but this half-pint imitation
put me on the blink

i'm wild again
beguiled again
a simpering, whimpering child again
bewitched, bothered and bewildered am i

couldn't sleep
and wouldn't sleep
until i could sleep where i shouldn't sleep
bewitched, bothered and bewildered am i

lost my heart but what of it?
my mistake i agree.
he's a laugh, but i love it
because the laugh's on me.

a pill he is
but still he is
all mine and i'll keep him until he is
bewitched, bothered and bewildered
like me.

seen a lot
i mean i lot
but now i'm like sweet seventeen a lot
bewitched, bothered and bewildered am i

i'll sing to him
each spring to him
and worship the trousers that cling to him
bewitched, bothered and bewildered am i

when he talks he is seeking
words to get off his chest.
horizontally speaking
he's at his very best.

vexed again
perplexed again
thank god i can't be over-sexed again
bewitched, bothered and bewildered am i

wise at last
my eyes at last
are cutting you down to your size at last
bewitched, bothered and bewildered no more

burned a lot
but learned a lot
and now you are broke, though you earned a lot
bewitched, bothered and bewildered no more

couldn't eat
was dyspeptic
life was so hard to bear;
now my heart's antiseptic
since you moved out of there

romance-finis
your chance-finis
those ants that invaded my pants-finis
bewitched, bothered and bewildered no more.

when ella sings them, these lyrics that can at first read bluesy or bitter (or maybe even a bit looney), are sweeter and dreamier.

she, like many who have recorded it, made some lyrical changes:

until i could sleep where i shouldn't sleep became when love came and told me i shouldn't sleep

my mistake i agree becomes he is cold I agree

he's a laugh but i love it becomes he can laugh but i love it

he's a pill...becomes he's a fool...

worship the trousers that cling to him becomes and long for the day when i'll cling to him in the first verse (but she brings back the original lyrics for the second)

seen a lot is i've sinned a lot...

and i think she thanks god she can get over-sexed again...

anyway, you get the idea. i hear her version and think she gets the guy in the end. or at least, she gets what she wants. i like that.

***

bewitched, bothered, and bewildered is one of the best known tunes from the musical pal joey. i was surprised to learn that the musical version was based on a series of short stories, written as letters (it can be properly called an epistolary novel, my new favorite term), by john o'hara, which appeared in the new yorker. this bit of news got me very excited, until i read a little more about john o'hara. he sounds awful.

***

blue moon (elvis)

blue moon,
you saw me standing alone
without a dream in my heart
without a love on my own.
blue moon,
you knew just what I was there for
you heard me saying a prayer for
somebody I really could care for.
and then there suddenly appeared before me,
the only one my arms will ever hold
I heard somebody whisper, "please adore me."
and when I looked,
the moon had turned to gold.
blue moon,
now I'm lo longer alone
without a dream in my heart
without a love on my own.

elvis' version of blue moon was the first cross-over/rock and roll hit for rodgers and hart--and it actually was the 4th iteration of the song. the first 3 lyric versions were all written while the duo was under contract to MGM. the first version was to be sung by jean harlow in the film "hollywood party," but ultimately neither jean harlow, nor the song appeared in the film. the second and third versions were written for manhattan melodrama (one of my favorite flicks, starring myrna loy and clark gable).

image via http://www.doctormacro1.info/

image via http://www.doctormacro1.info/

***
my funny valentine (chet baker)

be hold the way our fine feathered-friend
his virtue doth parade.
thou knowest not my dim witted friend,
the picture thou hast made.
thy vacant brow and thy tousled hair
conceal thy good intent.
thou noble upright, truthful, sincere
and slightly dopey gent- you are..

my funny valentine
sweet comic valentine
you make me smile with my heart
you looks are laughable, unphotographable
yet you're my favorite work of art
is your figure less than greek
is your mouth a little bit weak
when you open it to speak, are you smart?
don't change a hair for me
not if you care for me
stay little valentine stay
each day is valentine's day

come to the cabaret: maude maggart

maude maggart will be song-styling at the oak room, through may 23. i have been wanting to see and hear her perform but have managed, for the last two years, to miss her. not this time.

it would be nice to have a friend or two to accompany me, but i don't think too many of mine are down for the cabaret. perhaps it would help if i told them she is fiona apple's sister? but perhaps not...

perhaps if they heard her rendition of the carpenter's superstar? i think it is haunting and lovely.

***

loneliness is a such a sad affair

and i can hardly wait to be with you again

what to say to make you come again

come back to me again

and play your sad guitar

***

need a bit more convincing?

here is stephen holden's review in the nytimes (ms. maggart acts a song with a fluid body language that lends everything she sings an added dramatic intensity...she wields old-time hollywood glamor to cast her seductive spell);

and will friedwald's in the voice (there are plenty of singers in new york clubs who can out-sing her, but none who can out-think her... singing the subtext as much as the notes or the lyrics, she creates a kind of jukebox musical of the gods).

and here is a link to the oak room site.