Sonia (Rutstein) is a singer-songwriter from Baltimore who is perhaps most associated with her various performing and recording units known as “Disappear Fear”. The name was applied in the 90’s to what might be termed an electric punk-folk band, but has been used more recently as the name of the duo in which Sonia and her sister Cindy Frank sing Phil Ochs songs (check out their CD, “Get Your Phil”). (Cindy was with the earlier band as well.)
This nine-song DVD collects Sonia performances from over a 16-year period, 1994 to 2010, from the days of the earlier Disappear band to more recent solo performances. These range from straight-out live performance clips to more produced music videos. There’s quite a bit of variety, from a song sung in Hebrew and English to protest/topical songs to blues. Most of the songs are Sonia’s own compositions, though there is one Phil Ochs song (“No More Songs, filmed in 2004, not by the current duo) and one (“By My Silence”) written by fellow singer-songwriters Ellen Bukstel and Nick Annis.
Though I personally tend to prefer the solo concert clips, there’s some more “arranged” material that sounds quite nice. Visuals range from photo-collage to the John Densmore-directed video for the disc’s title song, which features a young solo dancer in a rehearsal studio. It’s gratifying to see and hear Sonia in a number of different settings over a period of years, thus giving the viewer/listener a better chance to experience the various aspects of the artist’s musical offerings.
This DVD will probably have the most immediate appeal to Sonia’s sizable fan following. But since it’s being sold on her website - http://www.soniadf.com/shop_details.php?productcategory_id=1
for less than the price of one of her CD’s, it should make for a most agreeable introduction to the artist’s work. You might click the link to her paintings as well. A woman of multiple talents!
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Sunday, September 4, 2011
“Duke Ellington: Reminiscing In Tempo”/“Count Basie: Then As Now, Count’s The King”/“Dizzy Gillespie In Redondo” (all MVD)
The common factor here is that all three films are the work of filmmaker Gary Keys, whose work is currently undergoing a revival of interest and exposure thanks to the folks at MVD. These are but three of several Keys films recently brought to DVD by MVD.
The Ellington film combines elements of the concert-film genre with documentary. A group of Ellington’s friends, associates, and fans were gathered together for a memorial birthday party by Duke’s sister, Ruth Ellington Boatright. They share reminiscences of Ellington the man, the composer, the pianist, the collaborator. Some, such as Bobby Short, Al Hibbler (who alas was WAY past his prime), Billy Taylor, Brooks Kerr, Hiromi, and Adam Makowicz, offer musical tributes as well.
Keys intersperses this with footage of a 1968 concert done in Mexico by Ellington and his band. Though the concert is from late in Duke’s career, the music is still solid, the re-considered arrangements fresh, and the soloists (who include such Ellington stalwarts as Lawrence Brown, Harry Carney, Johnny Hodges, and Cootie Williams, among others) still distinctive.
The highlight of the concert is the rarely-performed “Mexican Suite”, which was never commercially recorded. (It was later expanded into the “Latin-American Suite”, which WAS recorded). The presence of this suite would alone justify purchase of this DVD by the Eliington faithful. While I personally would have preferred that the suite be presented straight, without the travelog photography Keys mixes in, the visuals are fascinating in their own right.
I should mention that a discussion of race relations in America includes a few graphic images which many may find disturbing. Otherwise, this is a very agreeable release, although I wouldn’t recommend it as someone’s first intro to Duke Ellington.
Gary Keys’ Count Basie film is similar in that it juxtaposes footage, recordings, and photos of the band with spoken reminiscences by people who knew Basie well. But whereas the Ellington footage came from a single concert, the Basie film incorporates film and television footage from the 1950’s and later. The Ellington reminiscences came from interviews of a grouping of sophisticates who were all too aware of the camera, but the roundtable discussing Basie is far less formal, displaying a great deal of camaraderie and gentle ribbing, all in good fun.
The participants in the panel include Frank Wess, Frank Foster, Joe Wilder, and Benny Powell, all long-established Basie-ites, trombonist George Lewis (who was briefly in the Basie band in the mod-1970’s; he is mostly context to listen to and learn from the old-timers), and a holdover from the Ellington film, critic Ira Gitler. Gitler is heard so little, one might speculate that his actual role may have been off-camera, feeding ideas to the participants. They talk about Basie the bandleader, the personality, and the musical force. They recall incidents involving some of their fellow classic Basie musicians, and enjoy chatting about their own experiences as members of the Basie entourage. In all, it’s a very enjoyable, one might even say invigorating discussion.
The early Kansas City days are given short shrift in the selection of film clips, though there is a small-combo version of “One O’Clock Jump” from the early 50’s, most likely the earliest fooitage seen here. There are a number of other Basie standards from the 50’s band, such as “Midgets” (with a sprightly Frank Wess flute solo), “Corner Pocket”, and a version of “Li’l Darlin’” which seems to date from the period after Frank Foster took over the band. Billie Holiday is accompanied by Basie on two songs from 1952. We also get to hear from the great singer Joe Williams on “Alright Okay You Win” and “Everyday I Have The Blues” (the latter introduced by Dionne Warwick).
A couple performances might best be termed “Basie-related” - Frank Foster playing with Dizzy Gillespie in the 1980’s, and a clip of the Billy Eckstine big band of the 1940’s, which only becomes Basie-related when we get to hear a later sample of Eckstine and Basie together. There are also three clips which illustrate Basie’s impact on Hollywood. Jerry Lewis mimes to Basie recordings on excerpts from “Cinderfella” and “The Errand Boy”, while Keys was lucky enough to be able to include the incongruous performance of “April In Paris” from “Blazing Saddles”.
Frank Foster offers a lengthy poem (split into segments) on Basie’s life and career. Indeed, Foster is shown to be a “real character”, and is very much the “star” of the panel. In all, this is very entertaining stuff, and can easily be recommended as an introduction to the post-1950 Count Basie Orchestra.
Unlike the Ellington and Basie films, Gary Keys’ Dizzy Gillespie offering is a concert film, apparently part of a t.v. series called “Jazz in America”. I’m not going to beat around the bush - this is one VERY captivating concert film, skillfully assembled.
There are only four full-length performances in this hour-long club date, filmed in 1981. (The fifth title listed, “Jazz America”, heard briefly at the end, would seem to be the series’ theme song.) Even so, it pretty much encapsulates the range of Dizzy’s long-term contributions to the well-being of jazz. Some critics have implied that Gillespie did the great bulk of the innovations one associates with his name during the mid-to-late 1940’s, and that he pretty much coasted the rest of his career - which lasted till around 1990; he died in 1993. I will not argue this point, but innovation is not the only factor that matters. In his mid-60’s, he could still blow up quite a firestorm on this disc, proof positive that he remained an imaginative improviser as well as a first-rate entertainer well into late career.
Dizzy the waggish entertainer gets the proceedings off to a congenial start by “introducing the band”, at which point the musicians shake hands, pretending as if they were meeting for the first time. It may be a standard musicians’ joke, but Diz and the band carry it off so affably, it’s funny again, no matter how often you may have seen it. The band is a top-notch one, so now it’s my turn to “introduce the band”. Alto saxist Paquito D’Rivera burns on the opener, ”Be Bop”, with such assurance, you might think he was one of the originators of the bebop style, rather than a Cuban latecomer. Ed Cherry (misidentified here as “Ed Sherry”) is a deft guitarist who can work his way through a variety of styles with aplomb. Tom Macintosh is a low-key trombonist with a fine sense of rhythmic pacing. Pianist Valerie Capers is aggressive when she needs to be, sensitive when the moment calls for it. There are two bass players, each of whom has a well-defined role. Ray Brown, on stand-up acoustic bass, was born to play with Dizzy Gillespie, while electric bassist Michael Howell, is featured on the more contemporary, funk-flavored tunes. Drummer Tom Campbell, I confess, is a new name to me, though a quick Google search reveals he has solid credentials. In any event, he easily holds his own in this august company.
The repertoire includes not only fiery bop (“Be Bop”) and cooler bop (“Birks Works”), but funk (“Kush”) as well. But the piece de resistance may be a down-and-dirty blues, identified as “Dizzy’s Made Up Blues” on the DVD carton, and “Hard Of Hearing Mama” in the film itself. Both titles are apropos. The lyrics are blissfully off-the-wall in an Eddie “Cleanhead” Vinson sort of way. Macintosh’s solo could have been somewhat nastier in this context. Cherry’s solo starts out well, but he loses himself in repetition. Howell, though, pulls things back together with a blues-guitar-like bass solo, while Capers’ piano solo makes far better use of repitition and rolling blues riffs. In all, a highly entertaining performance, Cherry’s stumble notwithstanding.
Anyone other than a musical curmudgeon should find much to delight in on this disc.
The Ellington film combines elements of the concert-film genre with documentary. A group of Ellington’s friends, associates, and fans were gathered together for a memorial birthday party by Duke’s sister, Ruth Ellington Boatright. They share reminiscences of Ellington the man, the composer, the pianist, the collaborator. Some, such as Bobby Short, Al Hibbler (who alas was WAY past his prime), Billy Taylor, Brooks Kerr, Hiromi, and Adam Makowicz, offer musical tributes as well.
Keys intersperses this with footage of a 1968 concert done in Mexico by Ellington and his band. Though the concert is from late in Duke’s career, the music is still solid, the re-considered arrangements fresh, and the soloists (who include such Ellington stalwarts as Lawrence Brown, Harry Carney, Johnny Hodges, and Cootie Williams, among others) still distinctive.
The highlight of the concert is the rarely-performed “Mexican Suite”, which was never commercially recorded. (It was later expanded into the “Latin-American Suite”, which WAS recorded). The presence of this suite would alone justify purchase of this DVD by the Eliington faithful. While I personally would have preferred that the suite be presented straight, without the travelog photography Keys mixes in, the visuals are fascinating in their own right.
I should mention that a discussion of race relations in America includes a few graphic images which many may find disturbing. Otherwise, this is a very agreeable release, although I wouldn’t recommend it as someone’s first intro to Duke Ellington.
Gary Keys’ Count Basie film is similar in that it juxtaposes footage, recordings, and photos of the band with spoken reminiscences by people who knew Basie well. But whereas the Ellington footage came from a single concert, the Basie film incorporates film and television footage from the 1950’s and later. The Ellington reminiscences came from interviews of a grouping of sophisticates who were all too aware of the camera, but the roundtable discussing Basie is far less formal, displaying a great deal of camaraderie and gentle ribbing, all in good fun.
The participants in the panel include Frank Wess, Frank Foster, Joe Wilder, and Benny Powell, all long-established Basie-ites, trombonist George Lewis (who was briefly in the Basie band in the mod-1970’s; he is mostly context to listen to and learn from the old-timers), and a holdover from the Ellington film, critic Ira Gitler. Gitler is heard so little, one might speculate that his actual role may have been off-camera, feeding ideas to the participants. They talk about Basie the bandleader, the personality, and the musical force. They recall incidents involving some of their fellow classic Basie musicians, and enjoy chatting about their own experiences as members of the Basie entourage. In all, it’s a very enjoyable, one might even say invigorating discussion.
The early Kansas City days are given short shrift in the selection of film clips, though there is a small-combo version of “One O’Clock Jump” from the early 50’s, most likely the earliest fooitage seen here. There are a number of other Basie standards from the 50’s band, such as “Midgets” (with a sprightly Frank Wess flute solo), “Corner Pocket”, and a version of “Li’l Darlin’” which seems to date from the period after Frank Foster took over the band. Billie Holiday is accompanied by Basie on two songs from 1952. We also get to hear from the great singer Joe Williams on “Alright Okay You Win” and “Everyday I Have The Blues” (the latter introduced by Dionne Warwick).
A couple performances might best be termed “Basie-related” - Frank Foster playing with Dizzy Gillespie in the 1980’s, and a clip of the Billy Eckstine big band of the 1940’s, which only becomes Basie-related when we get to hear a later sample of Eckstine and Basie together. There are also three clips which illustrate Basie’s impact on Hollywood. Jerry Lewis mimes to Basie recordings on excerpts from “Cinderfella” and “The Errand Boy”, while Keys was lucky enough to be able to include the incongruous performance of “April In Paris” from “Blazing Saddles”.
Frank Foster offers a lengthy poem (split into segments) on Basie’s life and career. Indeed, Foster is shown to be a “real character”, and is very much the “star” of the panel. In all, this is very entertaining stuff, and can easily be recommended as an introduction to the post-1950 Count Basie Orchestra.
Unlike the Ellington and Basie films, Gary Keys’ Dizzy Gillespie offering is a concert film, apparently part of a t.v. series called “Jazz in America”. I’m not going to beat around the bush - this is one VERY captivating concert film, skillfully assembled.
There are only four full-length performances in this hour-long club date, filmed in 1981. (The fifth title listed, “Jazz America”, heard briefly at the end, would seem to be the series’ theme song.) Even so, it pretty much encapsulates the range of Dizzy’s long-term contributions to the well-being of jazz. Some critics have implied that Gillespie did the great bulk of the innovations one associates with his name during the mid-to-late 1940’s, and that he pretty much coasted the rest of his career - which lasted till around 1990; he died in 1993. I will not argue this point, but innovation is not the only factor that matters. In his mid-60’s, he could still blow up quite a firestorm on this disc, proof positive that he remained an imaginative improviser as well as a first-rate entertainer well into late career.
Dizzy the waggish entertainer gets the proceedings off to a congenial start by “introducing the band”, at which point the musicians shake hands, pretending as if they were meeting for the first time. It may be a standard musicians’ joke, but Diz and the band carry it off so affably, it’s funny again, no matter how often you may have seen it. The band is a top-notch one, so now it’s my turn to “introduce the band”. Alto saxist Paquito D’Rivera burns on the opener, ”Be Bop”, with such assurance, you might think he was one of the originators of the bebop style, rather than a Cuban latecomer. Ed Cherry (misidentified here as “Ed Sherry”) is a deft guitarist who can work his way through a variety of styles with aplomb. Tom Macintosh is a low-key trombonist with a fine sense of rhythmic pacing. Pianist Valerie Capers is aggressive when she needs to be, sensitive when the moment calls for it. There are two bass players, each of whom has a well-defined role. Ray Brown, on stand-up acoustic bass, was born to play with Dizzy Gillespie, while electric bassist Michael Howell, is featured on the more contemporary, funk-flavored tunes. Drummer Tom Campbell, I confess, is a new name to me, though a quick Google search reveals he has solid credentials. In any event, he easily holds his own in this august company.
The repertoire includes not only fiery bop (“Be Bop”) and cooler bop (“Birks Works”), but funk (“Kush”) as well. But the piece de resistance may be a down-and-dirty blues, identified as “Dizzy’s Made Up Blues” on the DVD carton, and “Hard Of Hearing Mama” in the film itself. Both titles are apropos. The lyrics are blissfully off-the-wall in an Eddie “Cleanhead” Vinson sort of way. Macintosh’s solo could have been somewhat nastier in this context. Cherry’s solo starts out well, but he loses himself in repetition. Howell, though, pulls things back together with a blues-guitar-like bass solo, while Capers’ piano solo makes far better use of repitition and rolling blues riffs. In all, a highly entertaining performance, Cherry’s stumble notwithstanding.
Anyone other than a musical curmudgeon should find much to delight in on this disc.
Monday, August 22, 2011
“Bob Lind: Perspective” (self-released DVD)
Singer-songwriter Bob Lind is remembered today primarily for his 1966 Top 5 hit, “Elusive Butterfly”. Over a five-year period ending in 1971, he released a small, but significant body of work that was the equal of virtually any other singer-songwriter during that busy period, yet it went under-recognized at the time, and is sadly largely forgotten today. And then he disappeared.
Four decades later, we find out that not only is Bob Lind alive and musically active, he still sounds as good as he ever did, and is still writing first-rate songs that deserve to be heard by a much, much wider audience. But not only does this recently issued DVD include a number of fine live performances of songs from his recent output in the company of a small, but sensitive combo (as opposed to the lush orchestration that framed his songs back in the 60’s), there are documentary segments that go a long way towards explaining “whatever-happened-to-Bob-Lind”, and why he seemed to fall off the face of the earth for so long.
It turns out that Bob Lind had what we now call “issues”- drinking issues, drug issues, anger-management issues, self-esteem issues. His travails reached the point where nobody in the music business wanted to work with him anymore. Subsequently, he lost his enthusiasm for the music business (though not the music), so he dropped from sight and lived off his songwriting royalties. Eventually, he took a job making up wacky stories about Martians and Bigfoot for the supermarket tabloid “Weekly World News”, and began to enjoy life a bit more. He talks openly and honestly about his problems during the interview/conversation segments on this disc. And while he feels he’s in a “much different place” now, and has become virtually a different person, he confesses to still having a few demons to conquer (anger mixed with sadness), but at least he’s made it back in one piece.
The fact of the matter is, in his late 60’s, he doesn’t sound a whole lot different from the way he did in his mid-20’s, which is an achievement in itself. His voice is instantly recognizable, his new lyrics still thoughtful, richly creative, and personal, the music still polished, but now showing a wider range of influences ranging from country-rock to jazz, as well as folk. Interestingly, on the jazz-tinged pieces, he doesn’t sing in an overtly jazz-vocal style, but the melodies have a bit of a swagger and the band swings in turn. He’s a new Bob Lind, but in ways that should have no difficulty appealing to fans of the old Bob Lind; hopefully this disc should bring in some new supporters along the way as well.
The good news is that he presents current versions of a few old favorites, including “Cheryl’s Going Home” (adding a little scat to the arrangement) and “Elusive Butterfly”, which now sports a surprisingly effective Latin-inflected beat. Unlike some artists who try very hard to avoid performing their old classics, Lind is willing to accept that there are people who will come to see his cocnerts because of their love for “Butterfly”. But the better news is that the new songs are certainly well worth hearing, whether he accompanies them on guitar or piano, an instrument which adds which adds an entirely new dimension to the Bob Lind sound. Yes, his music has undergone some changes, but it is still accessible, fulfilling, and of a high quality.
Bob Lind is not an “oldies act”, nor a simple purveyor of nostaligia. He has not stood still, and there is no reason he should have stood still. He is not a relic of the past, but a viable current artist with something to say that’s well worth listening to. Welcome back, Bob Lind!
“Bob Lind - Perspective” is 93 minutes long. For more information and a sample, visit http://www.boblind.com/LindDVD.html
Four decades later, we find out that not only is Bob Lind alive and musically active, he still sounds as good as he ever did, and is still writing first-rate songs that deserve to be heard by a much, much wider audience. But not only does this recently issued DVD include a number of fine live performances of songs from his recent output in the company of a small, but sensitive combo (as opposed to the lush orchestration that framed his songs back in the 60’s), there are documentary segments that go a long way towards explaining “whatever-happened-to-Bob-Lind”, and why he seemed to fall off the face of the earth for so long.
It turns out that Bob Lind had what we now call “issues”- drinking issues, drug issues, anger-management issues, self-esteem issues. His travails reached the point where nobody in the music business wanted to work with him anymore. Subsequently, he lost his enthusiasm for the music business (though not the music), so he dropped from sight and lived off his songwriting royalties. Eventually, he took a job making up wacky stories about Martians and Bigfoot for the supermarket tabloid “Weekly World News”, and began to enjoy life a bit more. He talks openly and honestly about his problems during the interview/conversation segments on this disc. And while he feels he’s in a “much different place” now, and has become virtually a different person, he confesses to still having a few demons to conquer (anger mixed with sadness), but at least he’s made it back in one piece.
The fact of the matter is, in his late 60’s, he doesn’t sound a whole lot different from the way he did in his mid-20’s, which is an achievement in itself. His voice is instantly recognizable, his new lyrics still thoughtful, richly creative, and personal, the music still polished, but now showing a wider range of influences ranging from country-rock to jazz, as well as folk. Interestingly, on the jazz-tinged pieces, he doesn’t sing in an overtly jazz-vocal style, but the melodies have a bit of a swagger and the band swings in turn. He’s a new Bob Lind, but in ways that should have no difficulty appealing to fans of the old Bob Lind; hopefully this disc should bring in some new supporters along the way as well.
The good news is that he presents current versions of a few old favorites, including “Cheryl’s Going Home” (adding a little scat to the arrangement) and “Elusive Butterfly”, which now sports a surprisingly effective Latin-inflected beat. Unlike some artists who try very hard to avoid performing their old classics, Lind is willing to accept that there are people who will come to see his cocnerts because of their love for “Butterfly”. But the better news is that the new songs are certainly well worth hearing, whether he accompanies them on guitar or piano, an instrument which adds which adds an entirely new dimension to the Bob Lind sound. Yes, his music has undergone some changes, but it is still accessible, fulfilling, and of a high quality.
Bob Lind is not an “oldies act”, nor a simple purveyor of nostaligia. He has not stood still, and there is no reason he should have stood still. He is not a relic of the past, but a viable current artist with something to say that’s well worth listening to. Welcome back, Bob Lind!
“Bob Lind - Perspective” is 93 minutes long. For more information and a sample, visit http://www.boblind.com/LindDVD.html
Sunday, August 14, 2011
“The Other Side Of The Water: The Journey Of A Haitian Rara Band in Brooklyn” (Third World Newsreel)
The phenomenon known as “rara” is a highly localized one native to the country of Haiti (aside from a bit of spillover into the Dominican Republic, where it is known as “gaga”.) It is intimately connected to the Haitian spirit religion known as vodun (or “voodoo”). Voodoo as practiced in Haiti is very much unlike the sort of madcap, stick-pins-in-dolls silliness seen in Hollywood movies over the past 70 years, the first thing Americans think of when they hear the term “voodoo”. Even given that statement, rara is not so much a religious ritual (though it certainly has aspects of one), as it is a Carnival-like procession, with music, dancing, and a variety of carryings-on, combined with ceremonies at graveyards and crossroads. It is an event that takes place on a virtually daily/nightly basis along both the rural and urban thoroughfares of Haiti during Lent, escalating in the days leading up to Easter. It has a reputation for being loud, disruptive, and, er, impolite, but its religious and cultural connections have made it a vital part of Haitian identity, much to the dismay of many Haitians.
This fascinating documentary allows us a glimpse into a new setting for this old event (which is thought to date back to the Colonial era), the Haitian community in Brooklyn, NY. The Haitian-American community is one of the “hidden” ethnic treasures in the US, perhaps because many of the members of this community have done little to assimilate into American culture, while others have tried to blend in totally. The latter have become invisible, while the former tend to think of themselves as being Haitians in exile, living here only temporarily, having come to escape political oppression and poverty, even long before the earthquake of 2010. Many manifestations of Haitian culture (such as konpa music) survive in the US, even though hardly anyone outside the Haitian-American community is aware of their existence.
But this film focuses on the specific example of rara, which is not even accepted by many Haitian-Americans. It is particularly despised, even feared, by those who profess themselves to be Christians, and are convinced that any phenomenon associated with voodoo is Satanic and therefore unsafe for the community. (It should be pointed out that Satan per se, in the Judeo-Christian sense, is not a major focus of voodoo, one of many misconceptions that pervade the religion, even among Haitian non-followers.) This has made it especially difficult for the film’s main figure, Pe Yves, to establish and subsequently maintain the longest-running rara band in the United States, DJA-Rara.
The film follows the band’s history from its formation in the early 1990’s to the present, through a series of interviews with Pe Yves, as well as present and former members of the band, family members, supporters and detractors. There are also rehearsal and performance footage, short video clips of Haitian bands, radio appearances in which Pe Yves openly discusses the negative stereotypes people have of the music, and expert opinion on both cultural and Haitian political matters. Parts of the film are in the Kreyol language, with subtitles, but the rest is in English. We see rara used as an energetic source of fun at times, but it is also shown to be used as an outlet for protest. In both cases, DJA-Rara intends it to be a force of unity among the Haitian population of Brooklyn, though it doesn’t always turn out that way.
The music of Rara is very strong rhythmically, but traditionally has been comparatively simple melodically. The primary melodic instruments are bamboo “vaksin” horns and a cylindrical metal trumpet called the “konet”. (The spellings of both instruments varies, since Kreyol has traditionally been a spoken language more than a written one.) Each of these instruments plays only one note. If you want to construct a melody which has, say, two notes, you need two horns pitched differently. For a three-note melody, you need three horns, each of which plays a different pitch. This works fine for religious purposes and if your primary purpose is to make noisy entertainment while marching/dancing through the streets. But in more recent times, saxophones and trumpets have been added to the parade. Or - if you want to restrict your rara band to traditional Haitian instruments - one can add more one-note bamboo or metal horns, each with its own pitch, in order to play a full scale.
This latter concept originated in Haiti, but has been adopted by DJA-Rara, which led to pressures within the band itself, as Pe Yves felt the need to downplay the musicians’ rowdy, celebratory enthusiasms and to professionalize and modernize the band’s approach, as detailed in the film. Subsequently, DJA-Rara became the first American rara band to record a CD, in 2008. The band celebrated their 20th anniversary in 2010. However, what would normally have been cause for jubilation was greatly tempered when everyone in the band lost friends and family members in the earthquake.
We see rara music used outside of its strictly voodoo context, to entertain children at a Christmas party, to cheer on a soccer team, playing at a street fair, and for a very appreciative ethnomusicology class at Amherst College. And, in what I find to be one of the most encouraging scenes near the end of the film, we hear from one little girl who is already thinking of the day when the band members get older, and it will be up to her and her generation to take over for them, and keep the music alive. Pe Yves and DJA-Rara may have struggled through those first 20 years, but it would appear they have laid the groundwork for the continunace of the rara tradition in the United States.
Thge film is 52 minutes long. More info, as well as a few clips from the film, may be found at http://www.othersideofthewater.org/ Third World Newsreel is at http://www.twn.org
This fascinating documentary allows us a glimpse into a new setting for this old event (which is thought to date back to the Colonial era), the Haitian community in Brooklyn, NY. The Haitian-American community is one of the “hidden” ethnic treasures in the US, perhaps because many of the members of this community have done little to assimilate into American culture, while others have tried to blend in totally. The latter have become invisible, while the former tend to think of themselves as being Haitians in exile, living here only temporarily, having come to escape political oppression and poverty, even long before the earthquake of 2010. Many manifestations of Haitian culture (such as konpa music) survive in the US, even though hardly anyone outside the Haitian-American community is aware of their existence.
But this film focuses on the specific example of rara, which is not even accepted by many Haitian-Americans. It is particularly despised, even feared, by those who profess themselves to be Christians, and are convinced that any phenomenon associated with voodoo is Satanic and therefore unsafe for the community. (It should be pointed out that Satan per se, in the Judeo-Christian sense, is not a major focus of voodoo, one of many misconceptions that pervade the religion, even among Haitian non-followers.) This has made it especially difficult for the film’s main figure, Pe Yves, to establish and subsequently maintain the longest-running rara band in the United States, DJA-Rara.
The film follows the band’s history from its formation in the early 1990’s to the present, through a series of interviews with Pe Yves, as well as present and former members of the band, family members, supporters and detractors. There are also rehearsal and performance footage, short video clips of Haitian bands, radio appearances in which Pe Yves openly discusses the negative stereotypes people have of the music, and expert opinion on both cultural and Haitian political matters. Parts of the film are in the Kreyol language, with subtitles, but the rest is in English. We see rara used as an energetic source of fun at times, but it is also shown to be used as an outlet for protest. In both cases, DJA-Rara intends it to be a force of unity among the Haitian population of Brooklyn, though it doesn’t always turn out that way.
The music of Rara is very strong rhythmically, but traditionally has been comparatively simple melodically. The primary melodic instruments are bamboo “vaksin” horns and a cylindrical metal trumpet called the “konet”. (The spellings of both instruments varies, since Kreyol has traditionally been a spoken language more than a written one.) Each of these instruments plays only one note. If you want to construct a melody which has, say, two notes, you need two horns pitched differently. For a three-note melody, you need three horns, each of which plays a different pitch. This works fine for religious purposes and if your primary purpose is to make noisy entertainment while marching/dancing through the streets. But in more recent times, saxophones and trumpets have been added to the parade. Or - if you want to restrict your rara band to traditional Haitian instruments - one can add more one-note bamboo or metal horns, each with its own pitch, in order to play a full scale.
This latter concept originated in Haiti, but has been adopted by DJA-Rara, which led to pressures within the band itself, as Pe Yves felt the need to downplay the musicians’ rowdy, celebratory enthusiasms and to professionalize and modernize the band’s approach, as detailed in the film. Subsequently, DJA-Rara became the first American rara band to record a CD, in 2008. The band celebrated their 20th anniversary in 2010. However, what would normally have been cause for jubilation was greatly tempered when everyone in the band lost friends and family members in the earthquake.
We see rara music used outside of its strictly voodoo context, to entertain children at a Christmas party, to cheer on a soccer team, playing at a street fair, and for a very appreciative ethnomusicology class at Amherst College. And, in what I find to be one of the most encouraging scenes near the end of the film, we hear from one little girl who is already thinking of the day when the band members get older, and it will be up to her and her generation to take over for them, and keep the music alive. Pe Yves and DJA-Rara may have struggled through those first 20 years, but it would appear they have laid the groundwork for the continunace of the rara tradition in the United States.
Thge film is 52 minutes long. More info, as well as a few clips from the film, may be found at http://www.othersideofthewater.org/ Third World Newsreel is at http://www.twn.org
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
“Complaints Choir” (Fine & Mellow)
Complaints. We all have things to complain about, we all make complaints. They allow us to let off steam, to deal with our problems by sharing them with sympathetic friends, to shout out our frustrations on Facebook to a world that may or may not care. Or we can write them into songs and sing our complaints away. To be sure, this is not a new concept. It’s what the entire genre of music we call “blues” is all about, catharsis through the writing and singing of our complaints arranged as song lyrics. But now, here’s a new way to sing our troubles away - through a phenomenon called the “Complaints Choir”.
This documentary DVD with three accompanying CD’s will tell you most everything you need to know about Complaints Choirs. It turns out that there are several dozen such choirs throughout the world, the majority in Europe, but quite a few in North America as well. The film follows the originators of the Complaints Choir concept as they attempt to put together new choral groups in Chicago and Singapore. Though not a “how-to” instructional video, it will show you just what you need to do to put together your own Complaints Choir, and what not to do, particularly if you live in a repressive society such as Singapore.
The Complaints Choir concept is the brainchild of Finns Tellervo Kallleinen and Oliver Kochta-Kalleinen, who are featured throughout the film. Their original concept had less to do with the aesthetics side of choral singing per se, but was instead a unique form of participatory performance art. When the pair decide to open a branch of their Complaints Choir concept in a new location, they put out the word through local media of what they intend to do, and when and where the first rehearsal will be. People may read it, find it to be of potential interest and show up. The Finns never know who will show up, how many will show up, or if indeed anyone will come at all. The first meeting isn’t actually a rehearsal as such. The Finns tell people to write down their complaints, anything that may bother them enough that they feel the need to turn it into creative energy. Certain particularly interesting complaints are collected, and a song lyric is formed from the combination of several such unconnected lines and sentences. A songwriter is then called in to set them to music, and the choir then rehearses the song for public performance.
What we see in the film is the entire process from start to finish. People talking about their lives and voicing complaints, the process of those complaints becoming son g lyrics, interviews with the melody writers/accompanists, choral rehearsals, public performance. We hear what people are frustrated about, what it is they hope to gain from their participation in this art project, how the Finns react to the process they set into motion, and what the audience reaction is like. This may sound straightforward enough, but occasionally there are definite complications. Things go very wrong in Singapore, where people are strongly discouraged from expressing any sort of complaint in public. Compromises with government officials are attempted, including a self-censorship attempt that ruled out certain topics, and a rather odd situation in which the government would allow the Singaporean natives to sing, but not the foreigners temporarily residing in Singapore as “guest workers”.
The film, by director Ada Bligaard Soby, gives the viewer a real feel for the pettiness under which repressive governments operate, and how it affects the lives of the innocent amateur performers who simply wish to participate in a novel art project-cum-choral performance. It also affordsa a fascinating glimpse at a creative process which is quite a bit less formal and less traditional than a more academically-oriented process of readying a recital or choral concert. It demonstrates quite effectively that, in the long run, the Finns do not control the entire process, but simply set it up, act as referees (one likens her role to that of “party host”), then let the process carry on in its own way, at its own pace. Thus, the results will be different wherever a Complains Choir is attempted. There are also a few scenes intercut into the film of a minster who has developed a totally different way to help members of his flock eliminate complaints from their lives. These segments are interesting enough, but they are not really relevant to what the Finns are doing, and could have been edited out of the film with no great loss.
The film is 56 minutes long. DVD bonus features include a trailer, clips of other Complaints Choirs, a discussion of the Finns’ philosophy behind their concept, and excerpts of a few of their other, very different art projects (mostly involving Tellervo by herself). The 3 CD’s include full-length performances by a number of Complaints Choirs, both official and “DIY” choirs, from many areas of the world, in a highly impressive variety of musical genres. The performances may range from rank amateurism to polished semi-professionalism, but the real point of these projects is more the artistic process rather than achieving an aesthetically pleasing result.
More info may be found at http://www.complaintschoir.org
This documentary DVD with three accompanying CD’s will tell you most everything you need to know about Complaints Choirs. It turns out that there are several dozen such choirs throughout the world, the majority in Europe, but quite a few in North America as well. The film follows the originators of the Complaints Choir concept as they attempt to put together new choral groups in Chicago and Singapore. Though not a “how-to” instructional video, it will show you just what you need to do to put together your own Complaints Choir, and what not to do, particularly if you live in a repressive society such as Singapore.
The Complaints Choir concept is the brainchild of Finns Tellervo Kallleinen and Oliver Kochta-Kalleinen, who are featured throughout the film. Their original concept had less to do with the aesthetics side of choral singing per se, but was instead a unique form of participatory performance art. When the pair decide to open a branch of their Complaints Choir concept in a new location, they put out the word through local media of what they intend to do, and when and where the first rehearsal will be. People may read it, find it to be of potential interest and show up. The Finns never know who will show up, how many will show up, or if indeed anyone will come at all. The first meeting isn’t actually a rehearsal as such. The Finns tell people to write down their complaints, anything that may bother them enough that they feel the need to turn it into creative energy. Certain particularly interesting complaints are collected, and a song lyric is formed from the combination of several such unconnected lines and sentences. A songwriter is then called in to set them to music, and the choir then rehearses the song for public performance.
What we see in the film is the entire process from start to finish. People talking about their lives and voicing complaints, the process of those complaints becoming son g lyrics, interviews with the melody writers/accompanists, choral rehearsals, public performance. We hear what people are frustrated about, what it is they hope to gain from their participation in this art project, how the Finns react to the process they set into motion, and what the audience reaction is like. This may sound straightforward enough, but occasionally there are definite complications. Things go very wrong in Singapore, where people are strongly discouraged from expressing any sort of complaint in public. Compromises with government officials are attempted, including a self-censorship attempt that ruled out certain topics, and a rather odd situation in which the government would allow the Singaporean natives to sing, but not the foreigners temporarily residing in Singapore as “guest workers”.
The film, by director Ada Bligaard Soby, gives the viewer a real feel for the pettiness under which repressive governments operate, and how it affects the lives of the innocent amateur performers who simply wish to participate in a novel art project-cum-choral performance. It also affordsa a fascinating glimpse at a creative process which is quite a bit less formal and less traditional than a more academically-oriented process of readying a recital or choral concert. It demonstrates quite effectively that, in the long run, the Finns do not control the entire process, but simply set it up, act as referees (one likens her role to that of “party host”), then let the process carry on in its own way, at its own pace. Thus, the results will be different wherever a Complains Choir is attempted. There are also a few scenes intercut into the film of a minster who has developed a totally different way to help members of his flock eliminate complaints from their lives. These segments are interesting enough, but they are not really relevant to what the Finns are doing, and could have been edited out of the film with no great loss.
The film is 56 minutes long. DVD bonus features include a trailer, clips of other Complaints Choirs, a discussion of the Finns’ philosophy behind their concept, and excerpts of a few of their other, very different art projects (mostly involving Tellervo by herself). The 3 CD’s include full-length performances by a number of Complaints Choirs, both official and “DIY” choirs, from many areas of the world, in a highly impressive variety of musical genres. The performances may range from rank amateurism to polished semi-professionalism, but the real point of these projects is more the artistic process rather than achieving an aesthetically pleasing result.
More info may be found at http://www.complaintschoir.org
Saturday, July 23, 2011
“Wheedle’s Groove: Seattle’s Forgotten Soul Of The 1960s and ‘70’s (Cinewax)
It seems popular music is much more homogeneous in the 21st century than it was through much of the 20th. There used to be many more local/regional scenes than there are now. You used to be able to tell which records came from Memphis, or Miami, or South Texas, just to name a few of these scenes. Some of the old regional-music scenes going back over a half-century struggle to survive, but survive they do, such as swamp-pop from Southwestern Louisiana, or beach music from the Carolinas. A few of these scenes managed to achieve national prominence, even dominance, such as Motown (which often used singers from outside Detroit, but the Funk Brothers backup band who really defined Motown were largely local), San Francisco psychedelia, or New York-style doo-wop.
But then there were scenes which - important as they may have been to the locals - never attracted attention outside their area. Go-go music from Washington, D.C. comes to mind. Cleveland sure seemed like a hot rock town in the 60’s, provided you lived close to the Lake Erie shoreline, that is. And, as this documentary DVD illustrates, there was a lot of great soul music in Seattle in the 1960’s and 70’s. Seattle? Soul music? Yes, indeed. But hardly anyone outside the area, including myself, had any inkling that something special was happening there. The Pacific Northwest - Oregon/Washington/Idaho - had already spawned the Ventures, the Wailers, the Kingsmen, the Sonics, Paul Revere and the Raiders, etc, but that wasn’t specific to one city, and for that matter nearby Tacoma was more significant to that scene than Seattle was. Grunge, of course, came out of Seattle as the 80’s gave way to the 90’s, but that was hardly soul music, either, though a few Seattle rock musicians are shown in the film saying nice things about what happened before their era. Let’s face it, you just don’t think of Seattle as being a hotbed for black music of any kind.
Nonetheless, during the 1940’s in particular, Seattle was a jumping jazz town. Both Ray Charles and Quincy Jones spent important developmental years in Seattle. The producers of “Wheedle’s Groove” (the “wheedle” being the mascot of the Space Needle, used to symbolize Seattle as a whole) were fortunate enough to get Quincy Jones to give his insights on the Seattle scene as it was during and after World War II. In more recent years, Sir Mix-a-Lot (who also participates in this film) has represented Seattle on the national urban-music scene.
But our primary concern here is the golden era of soul and funk. Sadly, hardly any footage of black Seattle bands from this period exists, which would seem to bode ill for a documentary film focusing on unknown artists.. (There IS a brief clip of a group called the Majestics, who are otherwise hardly mentioned here.) But by combining old still photos, shots of record labels, a number of audio tracks of several of the relatively few 45’s recorded by Seattle soul and funk bands (not one of which will sound familiar to anyone from the “outside”), and extensive modern-day interviews with many of the significant musicians active on the scene, director Jennifer Maas has come up with a compelling and both visually and musically satisfying document of a scene that was ill-served by those people who really should have taken the time to document it while it was happening.
We get to hear excerpts of 45’s by such local stars as the Black On White Affair, Cold Bold and Together, Ron Buford with singer Ural Thomas, Patrinell Staten (whose “Little Love Affair”, became a British cult favorite decades after the fact), Cookin’ Bag, Robbie Hill’s Family Affair. All these artists may now be heard on Youtube, by the way, though without the context, discussions, and interviews provided by the film. Only one superstar emerged from the scene, one Kenneth Gorelick, known to the world as Kenny G, who has wonderful things to say in the film about the experience he gained by being a member of Cold, Bold and Together. Humorously, Kenny G credits the rainy Seattle weather with keeping him inside the house to practice. CB&T also featured keyboardist Philip Woo, who remains a known quantity on the international jazz scene to this day.
As the film describes, the scene was a healthy one for several years, with a lot of work for everyone, albeit not necessarily well-paying. There was also a lot of cooperation among musicians, which is always conducive to creativity. Local radio station KYAC was strongly supportive of the scene, not generally the case with local radio in more recent times. (Several excerpts of an interview with DJ Robert Nesbitt add very insightful comments on the scene..) The fan support was strong, also. So, while no one became rich or famous at the time, the consensus seems to be that it was a great time and place to be a musician. White and Asian musicians (such as Gorelick and Woo) were reradily accepted - if they could play - despite the influence of the Black Panther Party on the scene. The clubs, however, were more segregated. The lack of gigs in white clubs no doubt worked against the bands’ greater acceptance and financial rewards. Another factor working against the bands is that Seattle was not a media center, and the bands couldn’t afford to promote their record themselves outside the area.
Quincy Jones and Jimi Hendrix had to leave Seattle before even attempting to “make it”. In fact, Black on White Affair did manage to contact Quincy through his brother, but nothing came of it. Ural Thomas signed with Uni, once again with no breakthrough in the offing. Indeed, it seems the mere process of trying to break out of Seattle was the downfall of a few bands. Disagreements among members didn’t help, either, then disco nailed the lid on the coffin. The more people wanted to dance to recorded music, the less work there was for live bands. The fact that Seattle’s economy took a nosedive in the dark years between Boeing’s downturn and the birth of the high-tech industry led to hard times for music as well.
Several of the participants talk about what happened to their lives . Patrinell Staten Wright became successful in gospel music, others became teachers, musicians, and white- and blue-collar workers. The scene evaporated, but thanks to this DVD, it lives on in memory, in photos, and on those precious 45-RPM records. After a long fallow period, a CD compilation of a few of those 45’s sparked renewed interest in the Seattle soul and funk scene, which eventually set the wheels in motion for the production of this film. A number of the original Seattle soul musicians got together to play at the CD release party, sounding as fine and funky as they did 30-40 years earlier. We get to see excerpts from their modern-day concerts and recording sessions. If I have a complaint about the DVD, it’s that more performances, and at full-length, should have been included, if not in the film, in the extras. (I should mention that the recording engineer who has helped preserve these new performances is the same man who recorded
many of the originals, Kearney Barton, who also recorded the Kingsmen and the Sonics back in the day. He is also interviewed in the film.)
The point is made at the end of the film that the bands featured here are only the tip of the iceberg. A long list of many, many more is shown preceding the final credits. I’ve got my fingers crossed for a Volume 2!
There are a number of deleted scenes, interviews, performances, etc. in addition to the original 87-minute film. The movie has done deservedly very well on the Festival circuit, and is still bering shown on the big screen. But the DVD is available now from http://www.wheedlesgroovemovie.com/ This is the good stuff!
But then there were scenes which - important as they may have been to the locals - never attracted attention outside their area. Go-go music from Washington, D.C. comes to mind. Cleveland sure seemed like a hot rock town in the 60’s, provided you lived close to the Lake Erie shoreline, that is. And, as this documentary DVD illustrates, there was a lot of great soul music in Seattle in the 1960’s and 70’s. Seattle? Soul music? Yes, indeed. But hardly anyone outside the area, including myself, had any inkling that something special was happening there. The Pacific Northwest - Oregon/Washington/Idaho - had already spawned the Ventures, the Wailers, the Kingsmen, the Sonics, Paul Revere and the Raiders, etc, but that wasn’t specific to one city, and for that matter nearby Tacoma was more significant to that scene than Seattle was. Grunge, of course, came out of Seattle as the 80’s gave way to the 90’s, but that was hardly soul music, either, though a few Seattle rock musicians are shown in the film saying nice things about what happened before their era. Let’s face it, you just don’t think of Seattle as being a hotbed for black music of any kind.
Nonetheless, during the 1940’s in particular, Seattle was a jumping jazz town. Both Ray Charles and Quincy Jones spent important developmental years in Seattle. The producers of “Wheedle’s Groove” (the “wheedle” being the mascot of the Space Needle, used to symbolize Seattle as a whole) were fortunate enough to get Quincy Jones to give his insights on the Seattle scene as it was during and after World War II. In more recent years, Sir Mix-a-Lot (who also participates in this film) has represented Seattle on the national urban-music scene.
But our primary concern here is the golden era of soul and funk. Sadly, hardly any footage of black Seattle bands from this period exists, which would seem to bode ill for a documentary film focusing on unknown artists.. (There IS a brief clip of a group called the Majestics, who are otherwise hardly mentioned here.) But by combining old still photos, shots of record labels, a number of audio tracks of several of the relatively few 45’s recorded by Seattle soul and funk bands (not one of which will sound familiar to anyone from the “outside”), and extensive modern-day interviews with many of the significant musicians active on the scene, director Jennifer Maas has come up with a compelling and both visually and musically satisfying document of a scene that was ill-served by those people who really should have taken the time to document it while it was happening.
We get to hear excerpts of 45’s by such local stars as the Black On White Affair, Cold Bold and Together, Ron Buford with singer Ural Thomas, Patrinell Staten (whose “Little Love Affair”, became a British cult favorite decades after the fact), Cookin’ Bag, Robbie Hill’s Family Affair. All these artists may now be heard on Youtube, by the way, though without the context, discussions, and interviews provided by the film. Only one superstar emerged from the scene, one Kenneth Gorelick, known to the world as Kenny G, who has wonderful things to say in the film about the experience he gained by being a member of Cold, Bold and Together. Humorously, Kenny G credits the rainy Seattle weather with keeping him inside the house to practice. CB&T also featured keyboardist Philip Woo, who remains a known quantity on the international jazz scene to this day.
As the film describes, the scene was a healthy one for several years, with a lot of work for everyone, albeit not necessarily well-paying. There was also a lot of cooperation among musicians, which is always conducive to creativity. Local radio station KYAC was strongly supportive of the scene, not generally the case with local radio in more recent times. (Several excerpts of an interview with DJ Robert Nesbitt add very insightful comments on the scene..) The fan support was strong, also. So, while no one became rich or famous at the time, the consensus seems to be that it was a great time and place to be a musician. White and Asian musicians (such as Gorelick and Woo) were reradily accepted - if they could play - despite the influence of the Black Panther Party on the scene. The clubs, however, were more segregated. The lack of gigs in white clubs no doubt worked against the bands’ greater acceptance and financial rewards. Another factor working against the bands is that Seattle was not a media center, and the bands couldn’t afford to promote their record themselves outside the area.
Quincy Jones and Jimi Hendrix had to leave Seattle before even attempting to “make it”. In fact, Black on White Affair did manage to contact Quincy through his brother, but nothing came of it. Ural Thomas signed with Uni, once again with no breakthrough in the offing. Indeed, it seems the mere process of trying to break out of Seattle was the downfall of a few bands. Disagreements among members didn’t help, either, then disco nailed the lid on the coffin. The more people wanted to dance to recorded music, the less work there was for live bands. The fact that Seattle’s economy took a nosedive in the dark years between Boeing’s downturn and the birth of the high-tech industry led to hard times for music as well.
Several of the participants talk about what happened to their lives . Patrinell Staten Wright became successful in gospel music, others became teachers, musicians, and white- and blue-collar workers. The scene evaporated, but thanks to this DVD, it lives on in memory, in photos, and on those precious 45-RPM records. After a long fallow period, a CD compilation of a few of those 45’s sparked renewed interest in the Seattle soul and funk scene, which eventually set the wheels in motion for the production of this film. A number of the original Seattle soul musicians got together to play at the CD release party, sounding as fine and funky as they did 30-40 years earlier. We get to see excerpts from their modern-day concerts and recording sessions. If I have a complaint about the DVD, it’s that more performances, and at full-length, should have been included, if not in the film, in the extras. (I should mention that the recording engineer who has helped preserve these new performances is the same man who recorded
many of the originals, Kearney Barton, who also recorded the Kingsmen and the Sonics back in the day. He is also interviewed in the film.)
The point is made at the end of the film that the bands featured here are only the tip of the iceberg. A long list of many, many more is shown preceding the final credits. I’ve got my fingers crossed for a Volume 2!
There are a number of deleted scenes, interviews, performances, etc. in addition to the original 87-minute film. The movie has done deservedly very well on the Festival circuit, and is still bering shown on the big screen. But the DVD is available now from http://www.wheedlesgroovemovie.com/ This is the good stuff!
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
“Phil Ochs: There But For Fortune” (First Run Features)
I’m always a bit confounded whenever music fans of my own (baby-boomer) generation, including many whom I feel should know better, fail to recognize the name “Phil Ochs” when I mention it. Certainly, I’ve given up expecting anyone under the age of 40 to have heard of him. But baby boomers? Come on, this man was (in my opinion, to be sure, but I’m far from alone) the greatest singer-songwriter to come out of the 1960’s following the emergence of Bob Dylan. It seems the enormous shadow of Dylan has long since dwarfed such once-vaunted figures as Bob Lind (whose new DVD will be reviewed soon), Eric Anderson, David Blue, Fred Neil, David Ackles, Patrick Sky, and the various Tims (Hardin, Rose, and Buckley), to such an overwhelming extent that even Tom Paxton and, yes, Phil Ochs do not have anywhere near the name recognition value that they deserve.
Nevertheless, Phil Ochs still has a considerable following, albeit a specialized one, but large enough that the theatrical release of Kenneth Bowser’s biographical documentary “Phil Ochs: There But For Fortune” in 2010 was hailed as a major event among us old-folkie types. With the film’s release on DVD taking place this week, everyone can now see what all the fuss was about. This is one marvelous piece of work, a loving, skillfully-assembled, no-holds-barred portrait of a man who was misunderstood by so many people, including himself. It’s a tragic story, a tale of disillusionment, mental illness, alcoholism, dashed hopes, unfulfilled dreams, and eventual suicide, but one with a brilliant soundtrack of poetic lyrics, memorable melodies, and a one-of-a-kind voice.
Bowser has Included a wealth of interview clips, including many of the people closest to Phil Ochs - family (Phil’s famous photo archivist brother, Michael Ochs, who was one of this film’s producers; Phil’s well-known folk-music disc jockey sister and keeper of the Phil Ochs flame, Sonny Ochs; Phil’s wife and daughter), close friends (most notably Jim Glover of Jim and Jean, who was responsible for politicizing Ochs), musical associates (including early supporter Pete Seeger, Peter Yarrow, Judy Henske, Van Dyke Parks, Lincoln Mayorga, Joan Baez - who recorded the best-known version of Ochs’ song “There But For Fortune” - and on film, Dave Van Ronk), political associates (Tom Hayden, Fugs members Ed Sanders among them), record industry associates (Elektra’s Jac Holzman, A&M’s Jerry Moss) - an incredible array of people important to Phil Ochs’ life and career. The result is a well-rounded selection of opinions, reminiscences, and emotional responses, chronologically arranged. One might wish that some of the clips had been longer, but that’s because Ochs himself had such an engrossing life.
It would seem Bowser didn’t miss very much. We hear about Ochs’ upbringing by a Jewish father who came back from World War II mentally unstable and a Scottish mother who refused to hide her unhappiness. We see photos of Phil growing up conservatively in small-town 1950’s America - local readers of this blog may not be aware that some of this growing up took place in nearby Perrysburg, NY, and that Ochs played clarinet at a SUNY Fredonia summer music camp; there’s even a vintage still of Gowanda’s Hollywood Theater. We find him dropping out of Ohio State University, discovering his first great political cause in the Civil Rights movement, finding hope in the presidency of John Kennedy, having his illusions shattered by Kennedy’s assassination and America’s increasing involvement in Vietnam. We learn how Ochs was browbeaten by his songwriting role model, Bob Dylan, which did not sidetrack Ochs’ unrealistic but fervent determination to make it big in show-biz through the writing of liberally-oriented (yet hardly doctrinaire) protest songs. As times change, we see him expanding (as did Dylan, of course) into more personal, less purely folk-style songs, moving beyond acoustic guitar backdrops to a more “produced” type of recording. (However, Ochs was not interested in folk-rock, but surrounded his songs with classical and orchestral influences. The results were superb, but decidedly non-commercial.) We follow his increasing involvement with the counter-culture taking unexpected turns, leading street-theater-of-the-absurd demonstrations which celebrated the end of the Vietnam War years before it actual ended. We feel impending disaster as he fatefully becomes involved as a key member of the Yippies and serves as a catalyst in the catastrophic demonstrations at the 1968 Democratic Convention in Chicago. We puzzle at his dressing up like Elvis Presley in gold lame for his career-destroying Carnegie Hall concert, which lost him the support of many of his long-term fans. A journey to third world countries leads to a meeting with nueva cancion icon Victor Jara in Chile, two years before the coup against the Allende government and Jara’s execution. His travels also take him to Africa. where Ochs is attacked and robbed in an incident in Tanzania that ruined his vocal cords. All this while, he is increasingly falling victim to bipolar disease, exacerbated by finding far too much solace for his depression in alcohol dependence. His growing combativeness begins to offend even his friends. Eventually, he falls off the deep end mentally, and announces the demise of Phil Ochs, replacing him with an obnoxious alter-ego named John Train. And then come those sad last days of 1976. To sum it up - it’s all here, it’s all examined in some depth, and it’s all put into comprehensible contexts.
We see short video clips and hear audio excerpts of many songs from every stage of Phil Ochs’ career. I find it particularly revealing to hear live performances from after the Tanzanian incident. Yes, his voice has suffered and has lost its consistency. But the voice and style are still recognizably that of Phil Ochs. I truly believe that, if he had been so inclined, he could have continued his career well past this point. But it wasn’t Phil Ochs the singer who had been mutilated, it was Phil Ochs the man.
“Phil Ochs: There But For Fortune” is, then, both a celebration of and eulogy for this important 20th-century artist. It would be easy to disparage him for what he became in the 1970’s, but I prefer to remember Phil Ochs as he was in the 1960’s. This film allows for both interpretations, and each viewer may take from it the Phil Ochs they wish to recall. Highest recommendation.
The film runs 97 minutes, plus a text bio of the director, and a photo gallery.
Nevertheless, Phil Ochs still has a considerable following, albeit a specialized one, but large enough that the theatrical release of Kenneth Bowser’s biographical documentary “Phil Ochs: There But For Fortune” in 2010 was hailed as a major event among us old-folkie types. With the film’s release on DVD taking place this week, everyone can now see what all the fuss was about. This is one marvelous piece of work, a loving, skillfully-assembled, no-holds-barred portrait of a man who was misunderstood by so many people, including himself. It’s a tragic story, a tale of disillusionment, mental illness, alcoholism, dashed hopes, unfulfilled dreams, and eventual suicide, but one with a brilliant soundtrack of poetic lyrics, memorable melodies, and a one-of-a-kind voice.
Bowser has Included a wealth of interview clips, including many of the people closest to Phil Ochs - family (Phil’s famous photo archivist brother, Michael Ochs, who was one of this film’s producers; Phil’s well-known folk-music disc jockey sister and keeper of the Phil Ochs flame, Sonny Ochs; Phil’s wife and daughter), close friends (most notably Jim Glover of Jim and Jean, who was responsible for politicizing Ochs), musical associates (including early supporter Pete Seeger, Peter Yarrow, Judy Henske, Van Dyke Parks, Lincoln Mayorga, Joan Baez - who recorded the best-known version of Ochs’ song “There But For Fortune” - and on film, Dave Van Ronk), political associates (Tom Hayden, Fugs members Ed Sanders among them), record industry associates (Elektra’s Jac Holzman, A&M’s Jerry Moss) - an incredible array of people important to Phil Ochs’ life and career. The result is a well-rounded selection of opinions, reminiscences, and emotional responses, chronologically arranged. One might wish that some of the clips had been longer, but that’s because Ochs himself had such an engrossing life.
It would seem Bowser didn’t miss very much. We hear about Ochs’ upbringing by a Jewish father who came back from World War II mentally unstable and a Scottish mother who refused to hide her unhappiness. We see photos of Phil growing up conservatively in small-town 1950’s America - local readers of this blog may not be aware that some of this growing up took place in nearby Perrysburg, NY, and that Ochs played clarinet at a SUNY Fredonia summer music camp; there’s even a vintage still of Gowanda’s Hollywood Theater. We find him dropping out of Ohio State University, discovering his first great political cause in the Civil Rights movement, finding hope in the presidency of John Kennedy, having his illusions shattered by Kennedy’s assassination and America’s increasing involvement in Vietnam. We learn how Ochs was browbeaten by his songwriting role model, Bob Dylan, which did not sidetrack Ochs’ unrealistic but fervent determination to make it big in show-biz through the writing of liberally-oriented (yet hardly doctrinaire) protest songs. As times change, we see him expanding (as did Dylan, of course) into more personal, less purely folk-style songs, moving beyond acoustic guitar backdrops to a more “produced” type of recording. (However, Ochs was not interested in folk-rock, but surrounded his songs with classical and orchestral influences. The results were superb, but decidedly non-commercial.) We follow his increasing involvement with the counter-culture taking unexpected turns, leading street-theater-of-the-absurd demonstrations which celebrated the end of the Vietnam War years before it actual ended. We feel impending disaster as he fatefully becomes involved as a key member of the Yippies and serves as a catalyst in the catastrophic demonstrations at the 1968 Democratic Convention in Chicago. We puzzle at his dressing up like Elvis Presley in gold lame for his career-destroying Carnegie Hall concert, which lost him the support of many of his long-term fans. A journey to third world countries leads to a meeting with nueva cancion icon Victor Jara in Chile, two years before the coup against the Allende government and Jara’s execution. His travels also take him to Africa. where Ochs is attacked and robbed in an incident in Tanzania that ruined his vocal cords. All this while, he is increasingly falling victim to bipolar disease, exacerbated by finding far too much solace for his depression in alcohol dependence. His growing combativeness begins to offend even his friends. Eventually, he falls off the deep end mentally, and announces the demise of Phil Ochs, replacing him with an obnoxious alter-ego named John Train. And then come those sad last days of 1976. To sum it up - it’s all here, it’s all examined in some depth, and it’s all put into comprehensible contexts.
We see short video clips and hear audio excerpts of many songs from every stage of Phil Ochs’ career. I find it particularly revealing to hear live performances from after the Tanzanian incident. Yes, his voice has suffered and has lost its consistency. But the voice and style are still recognizably that of Phil Ochs. I truly believe that, if he had been so inclined, he could have continued his career well past this point. But it wasn’t Phil Ochs the singer who had been mutilated, it was Phil Ochs the man.
“Phil Ochs: There But For Fortune” is, then, both a celebration of and eulogy for this important 20th-century artist. It would be easy to disparage him for what he became in the 1970’s, but I prefer to remember Phil Ochs as he was in the 1960’s. This film allows for both interpretations, and each viewer may take from it the Phil Ochs they wish to recall. Highest recommendation.
The film runs 97 minutes, plus a text bio of the director, and a photo gallery.
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