Nicolette Fraillon was told she couldn’t be a conductor ‘because I was a woman’


Australian conductor Nicolette Fraillon says sexism is still an issue within the classical music scene.

Fraillon was the first woman in the world to conduct a ballet orchestra, and until December was the Australian Ballet’s chief conductor, a role she held for two decades.

Today, female conductors are still the exception.

“I think it’s improving, but … whilst we’re conscious of it and talking about it, we’re not where we need to be,” she told 7.30’s Laura Tingle.

“Anything that you can think of that’s been said about any woman in a leadership position, I have had said to me and said about me in the roles that I have played through my work.

“If you think of everything that any woman in a leadership position has said about the way you’re treated — think of Julia Gillard — where your hair is commented on, what you wear, how you look, if you are emotional in a performance. ‘See, it’s a woman. She’s emotional.’ 

“And I hadn’t thought about this when I wanted to be a conductor. I just wanted to be a conductor. I didn’t realise that having breasts would mean that would make that much more difficult in some way. 

“I just thought that’s what I wanted to be. I fell in love with conducting. It was one of those a-ha moments … I had that the first time I played in an orchestra, and the world came alive.”

Cate Blanchett plays a conductor in the film Tár.(Supplied: Focus Features)

Fraillon’s comments come amid controversy about the portrayal of a fictional female conductor in the new movie Tár, starring Cate Blanchett, who has already won plaudits — including an Oscar nomination — for her portrayal of a tyrannical, bullying conductor.

For many in the classical music sector, it has been troubling that the character is a woman, when there is a long history — almost a standard operating procedure in earlier decades — of such behaviour among the world’s leading male conductors.

Fraillon has not seen Tár, so didn’t want to comment on the film itself. But she said that she had “thought wistfully to myself why, for centuries, that was the case with very tyrannical male conductors who would exploit their power in terms of others”, and that it was sad it was a woman who was depicted.

“It is sad if there’s a movie finally about a female conductor, and we have had no recognition, and people haven’t thought about all the issues that face us, that the female in that movie is depicted in that way,” Fraillon said.

“I can understand, if that is the case, why there would be anger.”

‘It’s much better, but that’s not translating into more leadership positions’

Nicolette Fraillon says Australian audiences are now used to seeing female conductors.(Supplied)

Fraillon said she was initially told she was not allowed to study conducting “because I was a woman”.

She persevered, but once she was a conductor she had trouble finding someone who would hire her.

“I had people say to me, ‘I really like your work but I can’t employ you because you’re a woman.’

“That was confronting. Still is,” she said.

“When I started out in Europe, I was the only one. I was the first in every single theatre that I went into with every single orchestra.

“The reasons when I say, ‘Why can’t I do it?’ ‘Oh physically, you’re not up to it. Women can’t lead. Women can’t direct a large group of people.'”

These days, she says, female conductors are more accepted. 

“It is now more normal. Certainly in Australia, people are used to seeing female conductors,” she said.

“Players in the orchestra who might have found it difficult, confronting, challenging, largely in Australia have come to accept it.

“It’s much better, but that’s not translating into more leadership positions as chief conductors, artistic directors in this country and not across the world.”

Impact of COVID on the arts

Nicolette Fraillon with 7.30’s Laura Tingle.(ABC News: Tom Hancock)

Fraillon says she had been thinking for some time that 20 years was probably a good point at which to consider moving on from the Australian Ballet, but that COVID-19 had been particularly traumatic and exhausting.

“It was a very traumatic period for the world, but speaking on behalf of myself and my arts colleagues, I think there’s quite a lot of trauma that we haven’t actually yet had time to process because you’ve had to get on and do,” she told 7.30.

“But works that were postponed, cancelled, projects that people have worked towards for years — the number of people who lost work, jobs, have left the sector, because it just ended their capacity. They couldn’t pay bills, mortgages, support the family.

“I was in Melbourne at that time we were in all those endless lockdowns, concerned about dancers who, certainly in that first period of lockdown, physically were deteriorating, potentially to a point where they weren’t actually going to be able to recover and dance again; musicians who couldn’t practice because you’re either locked in with all the family at home and kids and homeschooling and everything else, but more importantly in an apartment building where if you practice, neighbours were also all locked in. That was really problematic.

“People who have worked for years and years and years and need to train every day, like sports people do, not able to practice for months on end, could be career-ending and was for many. 

“And all the works of art that didn’t happen, that the world didn’t see, that have gotten lost.”

Fraillon says COVID is still having an impact on the arts, with shows still having to be cancelled when too many people on stage or in the pit fell ill.

On the positive side, she says, COVID seems to have made many people appreciate the arts more.

“It did demonstrate, and particularly in places like Australia where politically perhaps, and even societally, we’re not as cognisant of the importance of the arts … and the difference that they make and what part in a civilised humane society the arts play … Everyone turned to music, classical music, in ways that they hadn’t; to music, to the arts, for solace, for emotional support,” she said.

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Retired Country Music Radio DJ Eric ‘Bubba Bo’ Boulanger Enters Hospice Care


Retired country music radio DJ Eric “Bubba Bo” Boulanger has entered hospice care after being diagnosed with cancer. On Tuesday, NPR affiliate WVXU reported that the retired DJ was placed in hospice care around the end of December. He has been fighting glioblastoma, a very aggressive form of brain cancer, which has required surgeries, chemotherapy, and radiation treatments.

Boulanger was a staple of Greater Cincinnati’s radio industry for four decades. In March 2021, he retired from Eagle Country 99.3, where he’d been doing radio for more than 15 years. He then began a new show, WLW-AM American Truckers’ Network, from a home studio. The fan-favorite DJ had been planning to spend the winter in Florida, after ending his new show in early 2022, however, he fell ill and had to be rushed into medical care. “He was healthy as an ox,” said Boulanger’s longtime friend and former traffic reporter Mary Kuzan-McConnell. “It was all very sudden. It was really a shock. It’s so sad.” She added, “As soon as he was diagnosed, he was told that his chances of living for more than a year were slim to none.”

Back in 2021, while discussing his career through the lens of deciding to retire, Boulanger said on his Eagle Country morning show, “I’ve been running for 40 years plus in this business and I’ve gotten to do a lot of cool things and meet a lot of cool people and I’ve made pretty good money as money goes in this business anymore, but it’s time to ease up some and enjoy life.”

“I just really enjoy always talking to people,” he later added. “I enjoy the ones that do call in somewhat regularly with a traffic report or a family update or like that. It is like a little family, a little community that we developed. Will I miss getting up at 2:30 in the morning, no. Will I missing driving 30 or 35 minutes in the pitch dark in the middle of the night, no. I’ve been doing that for 40 years. I’ve done it for all but about 18 months of my career and I’m done.”

Boulanger later concluded, “I started working in radio at 21, and from there its been the radio life no doubt about it but I don’t regret it a damn bit. I had a lot of fun. I got to do a lot of cool things and go a lot of cool places, but it’s time to bring it to an end.”



Daily Music writers share their first listens of 2023


Sometimes, we think way too much about beginnings. They’re important to keep in mind, but if you spend too much time considering how you’ll start, perhaps you never will. Beginnings can be planned with lots of careful intention, or happen by accident. And for the writers of the Music Beat at The Michigan Daily, the soundtrack to these beginnings is an important part of how we process them.

Can you remember the first song you listened to this year? Can you remember how you felt, what it meant to you? Perhaps it was music playing as a house or club full of people cheered and kissed and drank as the clock switched over into a new morning. Maybe it was a song you heard on Jan. 3, when you got into the car for the first time in a sleepy, cozy week. Was it an electrifying start? Was it something that made your blood move three ticks faster, made you wish you could run into the new year faster than the seconds move? Or was it a song that holds its own host of memories, that reminds you of the past, as you moved into 2023? What sounds are you holding close to your chest, as we’re asked to prepare ourselves for a new phase of life while the winter days don’t feel palpably changed? Here are some contributions from Daily Arts’s Music writers who have spent time asking themselves the same questions.

“Auld Lang Syne” (traditional, lyrics by Robert Burns)

For those of us that hang out with our parents on New Year’s Eve, “Auld Lang Syne” is ubiquitous. In media, as in the cultural consciousness, the song is synonymous with New Year’s and its lilting melody is immediately recognizable across countless different renditions. Take, for example, the iconic New Year’s Eve scene from “When Harry Met Sally.” Over the tender opening chords of “Auld Lang Syne,” the two confess their love for each other at long last. Speaking for all of us who have ever tried to look up the lyrics, Harry (Billy Crystal, “Here There”) complains, “What does this song mean? My whole life I don’t know what this song means.”

“Auld Lang Syne” is a Scots phrase that translates idiomatically to “days gone by” or “old times.” The song’s origins can be traced back to Scottish poet Robert Burns, who first transcribed it in 1788 and described it as “an old song, of the olden times, and which has never been in print.” Burns’ version is partially his own composition and partially borrowed and the song’s melody is similarly cobbled together.

In some sense, this collaborative nature of “Auld Lang Syne” is still with us today. A Google search for “Auld Lang Syne” yields about 800,000 videos, by artists ranging from Mariah Carey to Julie Andrews to a guy playing the bagpipes in his living room. But what about it is so far-reaching? New Year’s celebrations and holiday music are so culturally specific and yet, “Auld Lang Syne” has been translated into innumerable languages and performed all over the world. The feeling it creates is beyond words, a combination of the simple, sentimental melody and the wistfulness baked into our cultural associations with it. On a holiday whose purpose is to mark time’s incessant march forward, there is a deep sense of nostalgia in returning every year to a song that reverently looks back. Though its lyrics are confusing even to English speakers like Harry, on some indescribable level, “Auld Lang Syne” makes sense to us. “Anyway,” as Sally (Meg Ryan, “Top Gun: Maverick”) tells Harry, “it’s about old friends.”

Daily Arts Writer Nina Smith can be reached at ninsmith@umich.edu.

“New Year’s Day” by U2

Christmas music is great, for the most part, but it has a suffocating effect on music consumption that usually evinces itself by the time Christmas Day rolls around. Only once radio stations and supermarkets stop playing “Last Christmas” and “All I Want for Christmas is You” does it become possible to appreciate that there is a holiday with an associated genre of music so vast. It encompasses Baudrillard’s Four Stages of Simulacra, from the haunting medieval chants written for Christmas Day Mass to some guy on the internet attempting to approximate the syllables of Nat King Cole’s “Christmas Song” to viral acclaim. For a few short weeks in December, the signs which once pointed to a reality of a deeply faithful and reverent society become that reality, revealing the true universality that unites humanity far more than any religion.

And then, almost immediately, comes a holiday without a millennium’s worth of liturgical and vernacular music, and that unifying force goes back into hibernation: New Year’s Day. For what it’s worth, New Year’s Day is widely associated with one song, “Auld Lang Syne,” which is more than can be said for most holidays. But even though New Year’s Day doesn’t have an associated genre of music, there are a few notable songs about the holiday, like U2’s 1983 single “New Year’s Day.” Admittedly, the song isn’t really about New Year’s Day in the conventional sense — the lyrics refer to the Polish Solidarity movement of the early ’80s. But the song’s energetic groove, fiery guitar solo and optimistic refrain (“I will be with you again”) make it a great song to begin any year by listening to.

Senior Arts Editor Jack Moeser can be reached at jmoeser@umich.edu.

“Wonder” by Lomelda

This might not technically be the first song I listened to in 2023, but it’s the first one I have a clear memory of listening to. I was on the flight back to Michigan, and just as the plane touched down, the song rumbled and shifted, the sweet noises of guitar, drums and bass like a bag of sounds being shaken together. “You’ve got a lot / Give it your all,” Lomelda (aka Hannah Read) repeats, making sure the words and feeling start pounding along your veins. We continued taxiing over the runway, hitting patches and bumps as the song collected itself into a movement of passion. It’s a track that finds its strength in emotional repetition, its instruments shakily building until the guitar and Read’s voice release themselves together, leaving you with no choice but to move with this explosion in some way … or sit quietly in a too-tight economy seat and let your body shudder with the movements of the plane. I had physically returned from the sky into Michigan and the song felt like a shaky attempt at fortification, preparing me to move on to the year where a lot will change in my life. That was the last flight that I will take into Michigan to return to school and I’m glad “Wonder” accompanied it. 

Daily Arts Writer Rosa Sofia Kaminski can be reached at fiakamin@umich.edu.

“All in bloom” by Ellen Arkbro & Johan Graden

With the arrival of the New Year comes the copious amount of lists of great things from the Old Year. I was looking at one such list from a friend of mine, when I noticed they had put a record by Kate NV they had discovered that I really enjoyed. I reached out to them to mention this and they pointed me to another item on the list that I wasn’t familiar with. “All in bloom” by Ellen Arkbro & Johan Graden was, for all intents and purposes, quite a meditative start to the New Year. Solemn, pensive chord strokes delicately knit a background for Arkbro’s morose voicing. A quiet chorus of horns then harmonizes and weaves into this background. That’s truly all that happens in the track, and yet the feeling that one is left with is nothing less than utter captivation. But there’s more than just that: “All in bloom” depicts an ode to possibility, a catalog of all the doors left open and ones thought to be permanently closed. Of course, if one were to take the position of interpreter, what does it mean that this was the first song I heard in 2023? Maybe it means that even in circumstances whose exterior seems hopeless, perhaps especially those that feel hopeless, the interior is still under constant development, opportunities continuously opening. Underneath the stagnation of a barren tree lies a beautiful chaos in bloom.

Daily Arts Writer Andrew Gadbois can be reached at gadband@umich.edu.

“Back That Azz Up” by JUVENILE, Lil Wayne, and Mannie Fresh

A bombastic start to my 2023, “Back That Azz Up” is a classic song in the New Orleans bounce canon and it definitely brings the heat. The brazenly sexual lyrics, the chaotic disarray of handclaps, 808s and sharp hi-hats, the slapdash record scratches and JUVENILE’s sloppily-produced multi-layered vocals give this song a gait similar to a drunk person stumbling onto a dance floor, completely disoriented yet invigorated. It’s a mess, but it’s all in good fun —  any listener could glean that JUVENILE, Lil Wayne and Mannie Fresh were having a blast making this track. After all, some girl’s ass was so fat that they felt inspired to make one of the biggest club bangers of the late ’90s in an effort to persuade her to “back that azz up.” For a party track, it does exactly what it needs to do.

Daily Arts Writer Zachary Taglia can be reached at ztaglia@umich.edu.

Pop Star Talks ‘Diamonds & Dancefloors,’ Heartbreak – Rolling Stone


The night her hit “Sweet But Psycho” came out, Ava Max almost quit music. 

It was 2018 and she’d been at home in her  Los Angeles apartment. Her mind started to race: She needed a breakthrough song, and this could be the one – if only it would take off.

“No one knows this but I had a mental breakdown,” she says now, almost five years later. She got down on her knees and started praying, even though she’s not religious. “I’m like, ‘God, please, if you’re listening. I need to pay for my gas. My parents, I want to buy them a house. I just want to help the people I love and I want to perform on big stages and I want to have fans and I want people to relate to my music.’ I was yelling this at the top of my lungs,” she recalls “I said, ‘If “Sweet but Psycho” does nothing, I’m done.’”

Max remembers that she started to cry, but she quickly got up, wiped her face, and told herself, “Oh my god, bitch. Get yourself together.” 

Luckily, the universe listened to her prayers: “Sweet But Psycho” became a force. Spotify added the track to their New Music Friday playlist – the only pop song featured that week, she says. “Isn’t that crazy?” Before she knew it, it had racked up 1.4 billion streams. The song’s sticky melody was a stark contrast to popular chart-toppers at the time, which included Drake’s “In My Feelings,” Travis Scott’s “Sicko Mode,” and Ella Mai’s “Boo’d Up.” Many artists were veering into R&B, but Max wanted to double down on upbeat, pure pop. “‘Sweet but Psycho’ kind of paved the way for pop music again,” she says. 

On Friday, the Albanian-American pop singer is giving us pure dance-pop once again as she releases her sophomore album Diamonds & Dancefloor. Across 14 songs, all executive-produced by Canadian hitmaker Cirkut, she shows off her signature electro-pop melodies with some Nineties synths and a touch of disco. It’s her first project after signing with Scooter Braun’s SB Projects, and her most honest yet. The album is inspired by major heartbreak she experienced over the last two years and although Max has been private about her personal life in the past, she’s putting everything out there on this record – something that shows just how far she’s continued to go since “Sweet But Psycho.”

The album isn’t just an evolution from her debut Heaven & Hell. She’s looking at it as a kind of catharsis, one that she’s excited to share with the world on Jan. 27. “I’m happy it’s not going to be mine anymore,” she says. “I’ll be like, ‘Okay, it’s over. All the heartbreak is over. And now, we can just dance.’”

I meet up with Max in mid-January and on the drive to her place, I find a 2008 pop/R&B EP that she recorded as a 14-year-old under her first stage name, Amanda Kay. She knew early on that she wanted to be a pop star and was already fighting to make it happen. Once I arrive at her hill-perched house with a view of Malibu beach, I tell her I listened to a copy of the project online. “I’m going to cry. This is horrible,” she jokes. I play her a snippet of a song called “Touch,” and she starts humming along. “Isn’t that funny, listening to that? It’s baby me.”

Max remembers that she struggled early on, but kept pushing toward the music career she wanted. “I was just trying to make an EP and get signed and no one wanted to sign me,” she says. “I was like, ‘Fuck you. I’m still going to try and make it.’” 

Max admits that even though she always wanted to be a pop star, she’s not actually a fan of the razzle-dazzle, “lights, camera, action” part of fame. “People think I can just sing on stage and be crazy. But it’s like, I have to turn that on,” she says. “That’s Ava Max. By myself, I’m Amanda.” 

Making music always came naturally to her, and it helped that her parents supported her ambitions. Max’s mom Andrea and dad Pavllo fled Albania in the early Nineties, seeking a better life. “If they didn’t risk their lives, I wouldn’t be here,” she says. “They came here with nothing.”

After settling in Wisconsin, where Max was born, her parents balanced three jobs each to support her and her brother Denis. Her mom worked at a movie theater, a bakery, and as a housecleaner, while her dad juggled cab driving, baking pizzas, and doing electrical engineering. “It’s like they didn’t sleep,” she says. “I remember my mom broke her shoulder and still went to work and was cleaning with a vacuum with her broken shoulder.” Their work ethic inspired her to keep on pushing for more in her own career. “That’s what they call the American dream. They just didn’t stop,” she says. To her, Diamonds & Dancefloors represents the strength and resilience she learned from her family.

In many ways, the album feels like a new side of Max. “I’m actually really shy,” she says. “I just want to hide sometimes. I’m a little hermit.” As we chat, Max cozies up on the couch, wrapped in a sherpa coat, tucking her feet under her. She usually prefers to keep her personal life and her career separate, but that’s all changed on Diamonds & Dancefloors, which is full of intimate lyrics about heartbreak. She knew fans were going to have questions about what happened, so she’s decided to open up and tell me about it. “In a way, it does make me uncomfortable because I don’t like sharing my private life,” she says.

Ava Max at home in California, January 2022.

Photograph by Nolwen Cifuentes for Rolling Stone. Styling by Zoe Costello

Throughout our conversation, Max is cautious with what she shares. She went through two break-ups over the last three years, and the second one, a relationship she ended last June, “really killed me.” By the time she ended that relationship, she’d already released Diamonds & Dancefloors’s lead single “Maybe You’re the Problem,” a synth-pop song that “flew out” of her and captures what she was going through with her previous partner. “You know what I realized?” she says. ”That you can’t lose yourself for anyone. And I almost lost myself last year for someone. This person wanted me to change who I was, my eccentric self. I didn’t realize that at the time. But all my friends and family, they didn’t even recognize me.” 

On “Maybe You’re the Problem,” Max sings about finally realizing that the person she’s with refuses to take any accountability for their behavior. “Drama always follows you home, but I won’t be waiting no more,” she declares on the track. It reflects how she took back her own autonomy. “I just had to choose myself,” she says. “I was like, ‘I’ve worked my entire life for my career. I’m not going to let someone take that away from me.” 

Though most of her album was complete at that point, Max chose to postpone the record and get back into the studio with Cirkut, who she calls the “Einstein of music” and her best friend. She wanted to pair her soul-crushing lyrics with upbeat,dance-ready melodies. “When I was in the studio, that was all I could write about: sad lyrics and what I went through,” she says. “But I turned it into dance music.”

What came out was some of Max’s best work yet. Max’s vocals shine on “Ghost” as she sings about “feeling haunted” by her ex over sparkling synth lines. On the disco-drenched “Hold Up, Wait a Minute,” Max questions her partner’s connection with a past love. And her most emotional song on the project, “One of Us,” started as a ballad but transformed into an empowering anthem about coming to terms with the end of a relationship. “Of course, I made it into a dance record,” she says with a laugh. “I have a problem. I just want to dance. I’d rather cry and dance.”

Max worked so hard on the album that she had little time to dwell and mourn about her personal life. “A week after my breakup, I wasn’t in my bed crying. I actually did Pride in London and I didn’t cancel it,” she says. The emotions did get to her at one point during the performance: “No one saw, I turned around and I started bawling, and then I had to get myself together,” she remembers. “It was a week fresh, but I couldn’t cancel on my fans.” She got to “Maybe You’re the Problem,” and belted out the lyrics with her voice quivering, closing her eyes as she powered through the song. 

“I think performing got me through it,” she says. “I healed through my performance.”

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She’s also been going through other changes: She has a new look to go with the new album. She’s switched up her signature “Max Cut,” an asymmetrical hairstyle that’s a shoulder-length bob on one side and long on the other. “I just wanted to have fun for a second,” she says. “But I definitely think she’s always going to be a part of me… It’s not gone forever.”  She finally feels like she’s in the driver’s seat of her career, a feeling that’s permeating every part of the creative process: Just a few weeks before the album’s release date, she even decided to change the album artwork. “Now, I’m in control of my entire career and it feels good,” she says. 

Mostly, she’s excited for people to follow her down such a deeply personal path. “People don’t know this, but it’s just the beginning for me. I’ve just scratched the surface,” she says. “I look around and I’m like, ’Look, you did what you wanted to do, but now what do you want to do? What’s the next step?’” She’s figuring that part out, but already, she’s come so far from the Ava Max that was once so close to giving up.



From Ambience to Rave Music, Kaho Matsui’s Discography Reaches Epic Proportions


Kaho Matsui didn’t record and release music until three years ago, but the Portland artist’s discography has already grown to epic scale. Her Bandcamp page averages one release a month, and her stylistic breadth is staggering, from ambient music based on field recordings to rave music with dizzying drum programming.

You’d be forgiven for seeing this prolificacy as a way to make up for lost time, but the 26-year-old sees all her work as part of an ongoing thread that reflects the events in her life at the moment the music was made.

“I take it as a journaling situation,” Matsui says. “I don’t spend over a week on an album because I want it to be like, here’s what’s going on right now.”

Amid this dense cloud of albums, EPs, singles, collabs, and one-offs, her new album, No More Losses, stands out. It’s her first release of 2023, clocks in at a robust 45 minutes, and is chock-full of collaborations with other musicians from her circle of friends and beyond.

Though the density of guests might seem like a way to establish No More Losses as a sort of tentpole release, standing above the shorter and jokier projects with which it rubs elbows on Bandcamp, there’s a reason for its collab-heavy approach that ties in with Matsui’s diaristic style.

“I’m trying to move out of Portland by the end of the summer,” Matsui says. “And then I think about if I move and then something happens and I miss it. I’ve severed a lot of ties with people since moving here. I’d like to not lose any more things—material objects or interpersonal relationships.”

The idea, then, was to make a record with friends. “Come and See” features artists Kevlar Wedding Dress, Snairhead and Wyatt Murphy, all of whom are roommates of Matsui’s girlfriend.

“They’re all great musicians,” Matsui says. “If I move at the end of this year and still haven’t recorded music with them, it becomes like a situation of, hey, we should record music sometimes, and we all blank on it. So I wanted to make a core memory, I guess.”

Among the album’s nine credited features, the name most people versed in the world of experimental music will recognize is that of More Eaze, aka Mari Maurice Rubio, the Austin-based artist known for her eclectic catalog and use of the violin to create a one-person orchestra, as she does on Losses’ “I Want to Leave Right Now.”

“I’ve looked up to [Mari] for so many years, so it’s kind of surreal that she was like, ‘Oh, I listened to your music, it’s amazing,’” Matsui says. “And I’m like, ‘No way.’ And then she’s like, ‘We should collab.’”

More Eaze’s music has been pegged as “emo ambient,” after the style of rock music that emphasizes emotional expression. Matsui feels a kinship with the term as well. Though Matsui says her music is more “emo in how I’m presenting an idea, not directly referencing emo music,” her guitar playing is influenced by the spindly style pioneered by Midwestern emo bands like American Football.

Yet to listen to Matsui’s music is to engage with nearly everything that’s entered her ears in her 26 years on earth. Matsui was born in Japan to a musical family; her mom was a piano teacher, and her brother is a “prodigy person” with a degree in jazz studies. Growing up, she enjoyed metal and electronic dance music, both of which still influence her work.

“Things like metal and EDM have a very cut and clear ‘here’s where it builds up, here’s where it drops,’” she explains. “I love that, it’s one of my favorite things. I love a drop.”

In elementary school, Matsui and her family moved to San Jose. When she turned 18, she moved to Portland and got a grueling job at Legacy Emanuel Hospital cleaning operating rooms and playing shows of “harsh noise music” when possible.

“Working at the hospital I made a lot of money, and I was like, oh, this is great, I should be, like, really happy with my life,” Matsui says. “And I was doing really bad.”

This routine defined Matsui’s early days in Portland: playing gigs, working long hours, moving back and forth between Oregon and the Bay Area. “I had no friends, I wasn’t doing anything other than work,” she said. She quit her job around the same time a group of friends from the Bay Area came up for a rave and stayed at her house.

“We talked a lot about making music, and a lot of the people that stayed at my house were in bands or doing recording projects,” she says.

Some of these friends were part of a label called Norm Corps, for which Matsui has made several recordings—including S/T, a tribute to Norm Corps co-founder Paris Alexander, aka Golden Boy, who passed away in 2021 and enjoyed the sort of uptempo, polyrhythmic rave music that comprises the bulk of the album.

With the support of her friends and ample time on her hands to create music, Matsui had a revelation: This is what I want to do. She’s still doing it, and by the time you read this, it’s likely she’ll have two more albums up.

“I want people who are listening to my music to understand that this is all stuff that’s happening,” Matsui says. “And if I don’t release music for two months, it’s just that nothing is going on.”



Visit Macon celebrates Macon Music Trail App Launch


The Macon Music Trail App is a music-lover’s self-guided tour to Macon’s vast music history.

MACON, Ga. — The Historic Macon Foundation and Visit Macon are giving visitors and Maconites alike a way to take Macon’s Music history into their hands. 

The Macon Music Trail App is a music lover’s self-guided tour to Macon’s vast music history. Visit Macon and other organizations are inviting people to come out to Grant’s Lounge on Wednesday to celebrate the app’s official launch. 

“The sites are actually a part of the Historic Macon Registry which was developed in 2016,” Director of Marketing at Visit Macon Marisa Rodgers said. 

It features both big and small historic stops all at your fingertips. 

Rodgers says the goal of this app is to make learning about music history more accessible to everyone.

“So many people want to come here and experience the music history but they don’t have an easy way to find it right now so we wanted to put it into their hands easier,” she said. 

There are many ways to do the trail in the app. Music lovers can walk or drive through it. 

Rodgers says downtown is home to so many great sites.

“That influenced what we know of music today. Our visitors are interested in that story and we wanted to be able to tell all of those stories plus a lot that even some local may not know about,” Rodgers said.

The app is available for download on the app store and google play store, just search Tour Macon or Macon Music Trail. 

The event will actually kick off at 2 p.m. at the first stop on the trail, located at the Downtown Visitor Information Center. Free tours from the visitors service team will be available to a limited number of stops or take the self-guided tour anytime yourself

The launch party is at 6 p.m. at Grant’s Lounge in downtown Macon. At 7:30 p.m., The Macon Music Revue features Charles Davis and The Velvet Sound as they play covers of Macon legends’ biggest hits. 

Classical music can be enjoyed by anyone


Jan. 23—As the music director and conductor of the Aiken Symphony orchestra, Dr. Scott Weiss has three priorities.

They include having “the highest quality orchestra we possibly can,” he told the Rotary Club of Aiken on Monday at Newberry Hall.

The others are “to provide the best entertainment value we possibly can” and “to play the greatest symphonic music ever written,” Weiss said.

In his opinion, the orchestra’s performances are something that anyone can appreciate.

“Classical music in some regards has sort of scared people off, with rules and by being sort of esoteric in terms of what they do,” said Weiss, who has been with the Aiken Symphony Orchestra since last July.

Some people think that “if you don’t understand it enough, you’re not going to enjoy it,” he continued. “But that is absolutely 180% against what I am. What I want the Aiken Symphony Orchestra to be is an orchestra that anybody, regardless of their background in classical music or symphonic music, can come and enjoy without having to know very much about it at all.”

To explain how such an appreciation is possible, Weiss mentioned examples from his own life.

“I love art, but I know very, very little about art,” he said. “I’m actually quite blissfully ignorant. I kind of enjoy not knowing that much about it because I can just decide whether I like it or not, and it doesn’t have to be informed by anything other than that.”

Weiss also loves wine even though his knowledge is limited.

“And this is how I feel about symphonic music,” he said. “You don’t have to know why you like it, you can just like it.”

To improve the Aiken Symphonic Orchestra’s quality, “we were able to acquire some free agents in the offseason,” Weiss told the Rotary Club. “The players in the orchestra come from Aiken, but they also come from a far-reaching geography beyond Aiken as well.” Among them are members of the Charleston Symphony, South Carolina Philharmonic, Greenville Symphony and Asheville (North Carolina) Symphony.

The Aiken Symphony Orchestra boosts its entertainment value with “world-class guest artists,” Weiss said.

During the current season, they include cellist Jonathan Swensen, who will perform with the orchestra Feb. 12 and Broadway star Aisha de Hass, whose appearance in Aiken is scheduled for May 14.

Swensen “is an up and coming cello superstar,” Weiss said.

Looking ahead to the Aiken Symphony Orchestra’s 2023-2024 season, he said the group would be “playing music that is not difficult to get your arms around.”

For more information, visit aikensymphonyorchestra.com.

Country music festival coming to Cochise County this March


COCHISE COUNTY, Ariz. (KGUN) — As soon as Del Thola bought his Benson ranch back in December, he knew he was going to bring a music festival to Cochise County.

The 20-acre land was home to livestock, which is evident through the various stalls and barns on the property. Come the middle of March, Thola and his family will have a large open piece of land specifically for country music fans to gather and have a good time.

“I grew up on country music,” he shared. “I wanted something to do for Cochise County and the Benson area, but the response has been phenomenal and I was not expecting that at all.”

The Cochise Country Music Festival is scheduled to take place Friday, March 17 to Sunday, March 19 and will feature one headliner per day.

Joe Nichols will perform Friday; Sawyer Brown plans to headline on Saturday and Clay Walker is scheduled for Sunday evening.

Thola said he worked with agencies out of Tucson to help find artists to come for the festival. While the event is called a country music festival, the lineup includes blue grass artists too.

“I think it’s more of a down-home festival,” Thola said. “We’re trying to keep it low key. I want everyone to come, relax and have a good time.”

Although public knowledge of the event is fairly new, the community is already welcoming it.

“I didn’t think the response would be as good as it was,” Thola said. “It’s kind of gone a little bit bigger than I was planning actually.”

He has a maximum of 10,000 tickets for sale and is expecting the festival to near capacity all three days.

Thola also plans on setting up vendors and food trucks on the property throughout the weekend.

For more information, please visit their website.

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Alexis Ramanjulu is a reporter in Cochise County for KGUN 9. She began her journalism career reporting for the Herald/Review in Sierra Vista, which she also calls home. Share your story ideas with Alexis by emailing alexis.ramanjulu@kgun9.com or by connecting on Facebook, or Twitter.



Behold Winnipeg Fanfare and other New Music delights – Winnipeg Free Press


The Winnipeg New Music Festival is back with a bang this week as it offers its first full lineup of nightly concerts since January 2020.

The annual celebration of contemporary music and culture has been a shadow of its former self during the global pandemic; offered as a much shorter, all-digital event in 2022, and cancelled outright in 2021 as COVID-19 continued to pummel the world.

“I’m thrilled and relieved,” Winnipeg Symphony Orchestra composer-in-residence Haralabos (Harry) Stafylakis shares over the phone from his New York City home. He co-curates the WNMF with WSO music director and WNMF artistic director Daniel Raiskin.

The Winnipeg New Music Festival returns with its first full lineup of nightly concerts since January 2020. (Supplied)

“I’ve been dreading the possibility that some new wave or variants (of COVID-19) would throw this all into disarray again, however with every day that passes, the relief grows. I’ve realized we’re doing this. This is really happening.”

New music buffs will be treated to six diverse concerts, each evening including a lively panel discussion, a post-show Q-and-A session and after-party, as well as additional satellite events peppered throughout the week.

Ancestral Tales (WNMF1 or the first concert) provides the first taste of this year’s distinguished guest composer, with award-winning Finnish artist Kalevi Aho’s Winnipeg Fanfare commissioned by Raiskin to trumpet the WSO’s celebratory 75th anniversary season. The evening also poignantly pays tribute to the late Bramwell Tovey with his Sky Chase, with the former WSO music director who died last July, having co-founded the festival with composer Glenn Buhr in 1992.

It also notably includes the world premiere of Stafylakis’s Piano Concerto No. 1: Mythos, a deeply personal, five-movement work rooted in his own cultural heritage being performed by American pianist Jenny Lin.

“As a Greek kid growing up in a Greek household and going to Greek school, all that mythology and storytelling so deeply embedded within our cultural history has been integral to both my intellectual and emotional life,” the Montreal-born composer reveals of his sweeping, highly “cinematic” work originally slated for the ill-fated 2020 WNMF.

“I also come from a mixed musical background, studying classical piano in my early years before later becoming a metal musician and songwriter. When I was starting to imagine my life outside of the metal world… it was actually the piano that played a central role. This piece is about connecting to my past, both musically as well as through my exploration of my culture and my family,” he explains.

Returning to the Winnipeg New Music Festival tradition of taking concerts to unusual settings, co-curators Harabalos Stafylakis (left) and Daniel Raiskin have planned two performances at the Royal Aviation Museum of Western Canada. (Mike Deal / Winnipeg Free Press)

The bill also features the local debut of Red Sky Performance, hailed for its contemporary Indigenous programming featuring dance, theatre, music and media, with founder/choreographer Sandra Laronde’s Adizokan. The interdisciplinary work created in collaboration with Manitoba-born composer Elliot Britton will be performed by a quartet of dancers, the WSO, and Nunavut throat-boxer Nelson Tagoona, who merges traditional throat singing with funky, streetwise beat-boxing techniques.

More than 30 years old, the WNMF is known for taking the road less travelled by venturing into unique “off-site” locales, including the basement of the former downtown Bay department store, the Sport Manitoba athletic complex, and even once taking a dunk into the Pan-Am Pool in 2016. This year, it’s taking the show on the road to the Royal Aviation Museum of Western Canada, with the first of two programs, Music for Airports, (WNMF2) held in the hangar replete with looming aircraft flanking the stage area.

“When I saw the place, I immediately saw this is where we need to do this. It has a lot of ambience, it’s very meaningful and creates a lot of curiosity,” the Amsterdam-based Raiskin, no stranger to airports and planes, told the Free Press last October. “Aviation on a physical level connects people and elevates them to the skies. Music connects people and lifts their spirits into the skies… in times when people are at their lowest.”

Highlights abound, including Brian Eno’s Music for Airports, as well as virtuoso Dutch bassoonist Bram van Sambeek in Anaesthesia: Pulling Teeth and excerpts from Michael Oesterle’s Parlour Games, commissioned by WSO principal players, bassist Meredith Johnson and cellist Yuri Hooker.

“It’s an ingenious collection of 12 short aural vignettes and puzzles, a jewel box of intriguing delights that he intends to be reshuffled and arranged anew at every performance,” Hooker states in an email. “The musical material is not only accessible — it is filled with a longing and joy that is positively invigorating!”

Dutch bassoonist Bram van Sambeek pays tribute to late Metallica bassist Cliff Burton in Anaesthesia: Pulling Teeth. (Supplied)

Fan favourite Damascus-born composer/clarinettist Kinan Azmeh also hits the stage as part of WNMF2 before headlining two nights later at the same venue, Kinan Azmeh’s CityBand (WNMF3), as a white-hot combustion of classical, jazz, and traditional Syrian musical influences.

Dialogues (WNMF 4) returns to the Centennial Concert Hall, exploring the synergistic relationship between soloist, conductor orchestra and composer, featuring an array of soloists as well as the local debut of SHHH!! Ensemble.

The festival wraps up with Symphonic Motion (WNMF5), with the Canadian premiere of Aho’s Symphonic Dances, channeling the “primordial elements and primal dance across epic orchestral soundscapes.” Other highlights include Giya Kancheli’s contemplative Nu.Mu.Zu. (I don’t know), as well as Victoria Poleva’s Nova, an explosive fanfare penned in response to the war in Ukraine as a “full-throated cry of anguish and solidarity” with its people.

For those who can’t wait until the official launch this weekend, a free concert Showcase: Launchpad blasts off Thursday night at 7:30 p.m. (tickets must be reserved in advance), featuring six emerging Canadian composers chosen to participate in in this year’s annual WNMF Composers Institute currently in full swing, and the brainchild of Stafylakis in 2016. The program also includes the three top prizewinners for the Canadian Music Centre Prairie Region Emerging Composer Competition in 2021, 2022 and 2023, the former two finally given their turn to shine.

Needless to say, the composer is bursting with excitement as the festival prepares for lift-off, eager to welcome the throngs of fans expected to return to the hall after hunkering down in front of their home computer screens last year.

“I’m looking forward to reconnecting with everyone in person again, and couldn’t be happier we’re doing this,” Stafylakis says. “The Winnipeg New Music Festival is back.”

The not-so-quiet SHHH!! Ensemble, pianist Edana Higham and percussionist Zac Pulak, perform Kelly-Marie Murphy’s Machines, Mannequins, and Monsters at WNMF 4: Dialogues. (Supplied)

For more information on events and to purchase passes or tickets, visit: wnmf.ca.

Holly.harris@shaw.ca


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25 New and Rising Artists Shaping the Future of Music in 2023


Who they are: Based in Mexico, the Guatemalan cellist, singer, and composer finds serene beauty in gritty experimentation.

Why they’re so exciting: Her latest album, 2022’s Se Ve Desde Aquí, marked a major shift, from resplendent warmth adorned with nature sounds to bone-dry austerity: skeletal clockworks of string scrapes, synth whooshes, and hushed vocals that leave room for listeners to get lost in reverie. It’s the type of move that suggests anything is possible for Fratti moving forward. In 2023, she’s planning a global tour starting this summer, along with a new album with Se Ve Desde Aquí collaborator I. La Católica and a record with her experimental group Amor Muere, which includes vocalist Camille Mandoki, ambient producer Concepción Huerta, and violinist Gibrana Cervantes.

The song to listen to right now: “Cada Músculo”

RIYL: Arthur Russell, creaky swing sets, potent Palomas

–Marc Hogan