Archives for November 30, 2003

I got an e-mail from Fred Hersch reminding me to remind you that he’s taking over the Jazz Standard Dec. 9-14 for a whole week of duets. Here’s the order of service:

December 9: Lee Konitz, alto sax

December 10: John Hollenbeck, percussion

December 11: Jane Ira Bloom, soprano sax

December 12: Joe Lovano, tenor sax

December 13: Kate McGarry, voice

December 14: Kurt Elling, voice

Talk about an embarrassment of riches! I doubt if I can catch more than one or two nights, though I’d much prefer to hear them all. Aside from his astonishing roster of collaborators, Hersch happens to be one of the jazz pianists whose music I love best. Here’s part of what I wrote about him a couple of years ago in the New York Times:

Mr. Hersch is frequently compared to Bill Evans–both pianists are greatly admired for their lyricism–but his approach to solo playing is far different. Though Evans made two well-received solo albums, he strongly preferred working with a trio, and his unaccompanied playing tended to be loosely improvisational and sketchy in texture. Mr. Hersch, on the other hand, improvises with the sharp conceptual clarity of a classical composer; instead of merely skimming atop the familiar chord changes of standard songs, he forges them into rigorously structured, wholly personal re-creations. “I like to play orchestrally–juggling several balls, having lots of layers of stuff going on,” he says. Yet even at its most complex, his playing never sounds premeditated: it is as though each song is being spontaneously composed, on the spot and in the moment.

To which I need only add that there will be two shows each night, at 7:30 and 9:30, with an additional 11:30 show on Friday (Lovano) and Saturday (McGarry). Call 212-576-2232 for reservations, or to inquire about buying a three-night pass at a special discount.

Be there. I will.

2 Blowhards has a wonderful first-person account of what it’s like to work part-time as a nude model for an art class:

I would soon find that modeling wasn’t simply a nude and high-paid sprawl on the chaise lounge (for that you have to turn to its illegal sister profession). It’s hard work, akin to being a dancer. Twenty minutes stretch to infinity when you stand still. Add ten more — and only discipline prevents you from falling like wet laundry from a line. Effortless poses of grace aren’t so effortless. While everyone from icy Degas to libidinous Rodin bent necks and crushed spinal disks searching for the perfect position, history doesn’t record the groans of their models. Then there’s boredom — to which I credit the glazed look in Mona Lisa’s eye. Behind every thoughtful face at the Art Student’s League is a woman asking, “When will it be over?”

Read the whole thing here. Please.

“The making of a journalist: no ideas and the ability to express them.”

Karl Kraus, Beim Wort genommen

I just got back from…well, I’ll tell you on Monday. I promise you’ll be interested. At least I think you’ll be interested. (And no, it wasn’t Baghdad.)

In my absence, The Wall Street Journal ran my review of the new Broadway revival of Leonard Bernstein’s Wonderful Town, which opened last Sunday. Since there’s no link, and I expect most of you were elsewhere on Friday and thus didn’t get a chance to see what I wrote, here it is:

Let’s cut right to the chase: “Wonderful Town” is now the go-to show on Broadway. Donna Murphy and Jennifer Westfeldt are the best of all possible stars. Kathleen Marshall’s dance-filled direction is picture-perfect. As for the songs, they’re by Leonard Bernstein, Betty Comden and Adolph Green–need I say more? If a visit to the Al Hirschfeld Theatre doesn’t make you feel sunny all over, you need to consider switching to an industrial-strength anti-depressant.

The only thing I can’t figure is why it took a half-century for “Wonderful Town,” which opened this week, to receive its first full-scale Broadway revival. The legend of New York City, after all, is as potent today as it was in 1953. This is still the place where gifted folk from every small town on earth come to find their futures, and “Wonderful Town” is the quintessential expression of their quest. Based on “My Sister Eileen,” the Jerome Chodorov-Joseph Fields play loosely adapted from the autobiographical short stories of Ruth McKenney, “Wonderful Town” tells the tale of Ruth and Eileen Sherwood, two adventurous sisters from Ohio who burn their bridges, find a basement apartment in Greenwich Village and find out that Manhattan really is all it’s cracked up to be.

Simplicity is the keynote of this wonderful “Wonderful Town”: John Lee Beatty’s set is a see-through skein of skyscrapers and fire escapes, with an occasional backdrop flown in to orient the viewer. If you think a Broadway musical absolutely has to be financed by tapping the Federal Reserve, you may find the effect sparse, but for me it was just right. In reviewing the gazillion-dollar “Wicked” (which I liked), I suggested that it was really “a mini-musical