Madeleine Peyroux’s Careless Love, about which I wrote in yesterday’s Wall Street Journal, is now #3 (!) on amazon.com, at least as of the time stamped on this post.
You go, girl.
UPDATE: Now she’s at #2. You go, readers!
Archives for 2004
TT: Sad clowns, cute psychopaths
After a two-week vacation-related hiatus, the Friday drama column of The Wall Street Journal is open for business again this morning. I reviewed two shows, Slava’s Snowshow and an off-off-Broadway revival of Joe Orton’s Entertaining Mr. Sloane, and liked them both:
Created by Slava Polunin, best known in the U.S. for his work with Cirque du Soleil, “Slava’s Snowshow” is a zany fantasia for five melancholy-looking Russian clowns, several squirt bottles full of water, a dozen or so king-sized balloons, enough fog to shut down an airport and enough confetti to welcome home an astronaut.
I’m acutely allergic to pretentious clownery, so when I read that Mr. Polunin was influenced by Fellini and describes his brand of theater as “counter-Beckett,” I reached for the nearest cream pie. Fortunately, nobody says anything out loud in “Slava’s Snowshow” (nothing intelligible, that is), and whatever Mr. Polunin thinks it all means, the results aren’t even slightly intellectual, though my guess is that American dancegoers will detect a certain resemblance to the quirky comedy of Pilobolus Dance Theatre, minus the dancing. To be sure, the self-contained vignettes that make up “Slava’s Snowshow” are not without their dark moments–especially the bit in which Mr. Bolunin lurches around the stage with a chestful of arrows
TT: Brush with greatness
I went to Joe’s Pub on Thursday to hear the debut of what may ultimately evolve into something of a vocal supergroup. Voices Collective consists of Theo Bleckmann, Peter Eldridge, Kate McGarry, Lauren Kinhan, and Luciana Souza, all of whom have formidable individual reputations (and one of whom has figured frequently and prominently on this blog right from the start).
Here’s how the Joe’s Pub Web site described them:
Voices Collective is a meeting of some of New York’s most talented and diverse jazz singers…For this evening at Joe’s Pub, they make their world premiere, uniting all their creative talents; presenting original compositions from each member and resetting them for five voices and a trio. Peter Eldridge and Lauren Kinhan are members of New York Voices and also have solo projects of their own in the original song writing arena; Theo Bleckmann is one of the vocal magicians with Meredith Monk and his own genre-bending work; Kate McGarry has been gracing New Yorkers with her soulful timbre for many years; Luciana Souza has been at the Pub in all her incarnations, Brazilian, jazz, and poetry-inspired.
The extreme stylistic diversity of these five singers is part of what made their first performance as a group so thrilling, ranging as it did from a heartfelt version by McGarry of Neil Young’s “Old Man” to an electronically enhanced duet by Bleckmann and the avant-garde jazz guitarist Ben Monder, a member of the trio that accompanied Voices Collective and another of my favorite New York-based instrumentalists. Most of the ensemble vocals, including Souza’s gorgeous unaccompanied setting of Joni Mitchell’s “Shadows and Light,” were sung in skin-tight five-part harmony
TT: Almanac
“She was definitely the sort of girl who puts her hand over a husband’s eyes, as he is crawling in to breakfast with a morning head, and says: ‘Guess who!'”
P.G. Wodehouse, The Code of the Woosters
TT: I will blog no more, forever
At least not until Friday, anyway. Yes, I know, I said on Tuesday that I was probably going to take Wednesday off, and look what happened! On the other hand, “About Last Night” racked up an exceptionally high number of page views yesterday–about 8,300, one of our best days ever–so I didn’t feel I could shut the shop down with a clear conscience.
Today, alas, is different: I really, truly have to finish writing an essay about A.J. Liebling, so I ain’t gonna blog no more. Until tomorrow. No matter what happens. I swear.
Really.
UPDATE: The Liebling piece is done and gone. One quick nap coming up.
TT: Lost and found
I made a special guest appearance on the Leisure & Arts page of this morning’s Wall Street Journal to write about Madeleine Peyroux:
Eight years ago, Madeleine Peyroux was a star on the rise. “Dreamland,” her debut album, was selling nicely (200,000 copies, all told). Critics were fascinated by the idea of a singer-guitarist from Brooklyn who’d learned her trade from the street musicians of Paris, where she lived as a girl. Though she sounded very much like Billie Holiday in the late Forties–the same salty rasp, the same squeezed-out spurts and swoops–her music, a torchy blend of blues, country and old-time pop, bore no resemblance to the middle-aged Holiday’s languorous brand of jazz. Ms. Peyroux (prounounced pe-RU, like the country) first caught my ear, for instance, with a lazy, loping cover version of Patsy Cline’s “Walkin’ After Midnight,” a staple of broken-bottle honky-tonks the world over.
So what did she do for an encore? She disappeared.
Not only did Ms. Peyroux fail to follow up “Dreamland” with a sequel, but she did virtually no performing in public between 1997 and 2002. No one seemed to know what had happened to her, though I found vague hints scattered around the Internet….
Then–just as abruptly and inexplicably–Ms. Peyroux resurfaced. Rounder, the highly regarded independent country-bluegrass-jazz label, announced earlier this year that it had signed her to a recording contract. In June she opened for Gary Burton at the Blue Note, one of New York’s top jazz clubs. “Careless Love,” her long-awaited second album, was released this week, and on Monday she kicks off a week-long run at another high-end Manhattan nightspot, Le Jazz Au Bar.
All this would mean little were it not for the fact that “Careless Love” is a stunner, a laid-back, quietly sexy stroll through a dozen songs that appear to have nothing in common save that Ms. Peyroux, accompanied by a crack team of Los Angeles session men anchored by the peerless jazz organist Larry Goldings, sings each one as though it had been written for her personally….
No link, so if you want to read the whole thing, you have two options:
(1) Go to a newsstand and buy today’s Journal.
(2) Sign up for the online edition of The Wall Street Journal, which costs half as much as an ink-on-paper subscription and gives you complete access to each day’s edition, plus various other bells, whistles, and special features. Do this and you also get to read my drama column–starting tomorrow! If you’re interested, go here.
To purchase Careless Love (which I strongly recommend) or listen to samples thereof, go here.
Madeleine Peyroux’s Web site (which includes the itinerary for her upcoming concert tour) is here.
Le Jazz Au Bar’s Web site is here.
Now, get cracking.
UPDATE: Careless Love is now #4 on amazon.com, while www.madeleinepeyroux.com appears to have crashed, presumably from unexpectedly high traffic. Whoooee!
TT: Almanac
“Sorrow comes in great waves–no one can know that better than you–but it rolls over us, and though it may almost smother us it leaves us on the spot, and we know that if it is strong we are stronger, inasmuch as it passes and we remain. It wears us, uses us, but we wear it and use it in return; and it is blind, whereas we after a manner see.”
Henry James, letter to Grace Norton, July 28, 1883
OGIC: Deadline sandwich
Hello from a small and quickly vanishing window of breath-catching in between the ironclad deadline that I met today (barely, heroically) and the one that I’m going, I’m absolutely going, to meet tomorrow. It’s been one of those weeks. Things I blithely take for granted under normal circumstances, like sleep, social activity, cooked meals, the outdoors, and, yes, blogging, have through the magic of deprivation been revealed as tremendous gifts and blessings. In other words, I miss this old place.
After I slay this last dragon, you’ll be hearing from me on this, that, her, and quite possibly them, if I’m feeling self-indulgent (which I often am). This week may stink, you see, but last weekend was pretty excellent.