Early Music Now began its season in a lovely and moving concert last Saturday at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church. Tapestry is a venture that has cast of four singers, and their program, “Faces of a Woman,” was entirely of music written by European and American women. Composers ranged from Hidegard von Bingen, who wrote in the 12th century, to music composed in recent decades.
This was a thoughtful and artful idea. Much of the music was contemplative in spirit, and by nature of the period it was almost all sacred.
The four singers sang with unfussiness and beautifully controlled tone, either in solo, duet, or ensemble. Cristi Cass, Laurie Monahan, Daniela TosiI and Deborah Rentz-Moore were often by joined by Laura Jeppesen on vielle and rebec. It was good to hear the spoken narrative, which helped greatly with the comprehension of this intricate concert.
It was great to see the loyal Early Music Now crowd there. Not as many people as normal, but still a respectable showing. A post-pandemic factor, likely? I love how this audience listens so carefully. That’s not always true at a concert, as we know.
Rock and roll legend and recently-inducted Country Music Hall of Famer Jerry Lee Lewis is NOT dead, Saving Country Music can confirm. Despite multiple reports of Jerry Lee’s passing on Wednesday (10-26), including from TMZ, the New York Post, and UK’s Independent, Jerry Lee Lewis publicist Zach Farnum has confirmed the music titan is still alive in Memphis.
TMZ appears to have been the originator of the false report, and has since offered a retraction to their story, saying in part, “We’re told the rock ‘n’ roll legend is alive, living in Memphis. Earlier today we were told by someone claiming to be Lewis’ rep that he had passed. That turned out not to be the case. TMZ regrets the error.”
Jerry Lee Lewis was formally inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame on October 16th, but due to health concerns, could not be at the Medallion Ceremony at the Hall of Fame in Nashville in person. Instead, Hank Williams Jr. and Kris Kristoffferson received the medallion in Jerry Lee’s honor, and then Kris Kristofferson drove to Memphis to deliver the medallion to Jerry Lee Lewis personally.
Jerry Lee Lewis experienced a stroke in 2019, which has mostly put him out of the spotlight in recent years, but he did appear at the press conference announcing his Hall of Fame induction on May 17th.
After becoming frustrated at his inability to land a hit in rock and roll after his heyday, Lewis decided to become a country music artist in 1968. He released his first country single, “Another Place, Another Time” by Jerry Chestnut in March of 1968, and would later release many albums of country material. Jerry Lee eventually had 17 Top 10 hit singles on the Billboard country chart, and four #1’s as a country artist.
Jerry Lee Lewis is said to have been working on a Gospel album recently, with a release date TBA.
Ann and Gordon Getty’s collection achieved more than US$150 million across four live and six online auctions at Christie’s.
Courtesy of Christie’s
Text size
Ann and
Gordon Getty’s
collection achieved more than US$150 million across four live and six online auctions at Christie’s that concluded Tuesday, making it one of the top three collections of both decorative and fine arts ever sold at Christie’s.
Each of the 10 auctions met or exceeded their presale estimates, each with a 100% sell-through rate, the auction house said.
Proceeds will benefit the Ann and Gordon Getty Foundation for the Arts, which supports a range of California-based arts and science charities.
The nearly 1,500 works in the collection were drawn from Getty’s townhouse in San Francisco’s Pacific Heights neighborhood. Gordon Getty, 88, a son of oil tycoon
J. Paul Getty,
led the sale of his family’s oil business to Texaco for US$10.1 billion in 1984. Since then, he has focused on his interests in classical music composing, and philanthropy. His wife, Ann, died in 2020 at the age of 81.
At the evening auction on Thursday at Christie’s New York saleroom, 60 lots fetched a combined US$79.4 million, which didn’t include the expected sale of Venice, the Grand Canal looking East with Santa Maria della Salute by Italian Venetian-school painter
Giovanni Antonio Canal,
commonly known as Canaletto. The painting sold privately hours before the live auction to the Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco through a donation by
Diane B. Wilsey,
a former chair of the museum, according to Christie’s. The painting was valued between US$6 million and US$10 million.
Mary Cassatt’s Young Lady in a Loge Gazing to Right became the top lot, selling for US$7.5 million, setting a record at auction for the 82-year-old American painter and printmaker. The work, with a presale estimate between US$3 million and US$5 million, was acquired by the Pola Museum of Art in Hakone in Japan.
An early George III walnut and parcel-gilt side chair
Courtesy of Christie’s
“As the momentum built over 10 auctions, Christie’s was thrilled to see the funding of the Ann and Gordon Getty Foundation for the Arts increasing sale by sale,”
Marc Porter,
chairman of Christie’s Americas, said in a news release. “It is also important to note that museums purchased the two highest value paintings for public display.”
The other three live auctions took place from Friday to Sunday, featuring paintings, English and European furniture and silverware, as well as Chinese works of art. In total, the four live auctions achieved nearly US$140 million, against a presale estimate of US$125 million.
In addition to Cassatt, three other artists saw their auction records reset, according to Christie’s.
Jacques-Émile Blanche’s Vaslav Nijinsky in “Danse Siamoise” sold for US$2.7 million;
Jules Bastien-Lepage’s Portrait de Sarah Bernhardt achieved US$2.28 million, and
Jean-Antoine Watteau’s Three Head Studies Of A Girl Wearing A Hat, fetched US$3.42 million.
The Getty Collection became the third most valuable collection of both decorative and fine arts sold at Christie’s, following the collection of Yves Saint Laurent and
Pierre Bergé
in 2009 for €373.9 million (US$483.8 million), and the collection of Peggy and David Rockefeller for US$832.6 million in 2018.
The latest song by Californian R&B/pop artist and dancer Amber Renee is just so good. Called “Back Home”, it feels smooth and groovy. The song finds Renee full of sass and confidence.
Amber Renee explains, “‘Like Home’ is about me being the ‘home’ for my exes even while they have been ‘outside’ talking to other people or in other relationships. It’s a song about knowing you are the person your exes want to get back together with and feel the most at home with, basically you are ‘the one that got away’ in their lives. I know a lot of women and even men can relate to this song and feel that he or she is the best in every aspect.“
Directed by Q Burdette, the music video is just as refreshing as the track.
Watch the video and follow amber Renee on Instagram.
I stepped out of my car on Congress Street the night of Oct. 11 to meet an astounding line waiting for entrance into The Rialto Theatre in Downtown Tucson. This was the start of my first concert experience as a member of the press. Although a little nervous, I confidently bypassed the fans eager to see the night’s main act, The Front Bottoms, and ducked under the security belt to receive my special wristband.
I stood around for one hour in the barricade under the sharp blue and hot fuchsia lights until the venue filled up. Vape clouds billowed, couples kissed and I anticipated an awesome show.
The lights dimmed at 7:30 p.m. and young alternative artist Mobley opened first with a passionate set and a few unaddressed, but powerful, political statements.
By 8:15 p.m., the crowd was ready for some Welsh spunk. Lead vocalist and guitarist Rhiannon “Ritzy” Bryan, followed by bassist Rhydian Dafydd and drummer Matthew James Thomas, set foot on stage to give Tucson a peek into alternative rock band The Joy Formidable. Since 2007, the three musicians from Wales have made up an alternative rock band and are currently touring as the opening act for The Front Bottoms.
MORE FROM THE DAILY WILDCAT
The lights turned aqua blue and the band immediately started with a punchy, pizzicato song called “Cradle.” The crowd was immersed in the gentle rock ‘n’ roll of this piece, as were the three band members who became increasingly expressive as the night progressed.
Bryan took a moment after the first song to connect with the audience, sharing personal anecdotes about Tucson and mentioning that she makes frequent trips down here ever since moving to southern Utah. I got the opportunity to meet with Bryan over the phone the previous week, and I appreciated her humility and insightfulness, which was apparent in her performance as well. As an adventurous only child myself, she seemed like someone I could personally relate to, telling me she was an only child who grew up in the outskirts of North Wales, making her “a child of nature.” She was constantly building dens outdoors and climbing trees, which seem to be experiences that inspire her free spirit, especially when it comes to making music.
During another break at the concert, she even asked the audience if we also “play the game” of finding the perfect saguaro while out in the parks like she does. Bryan told me, “Everything is connected” and that she can “find magic and depth in even the smallest things.” When I saw her and her bandmates perform, that passionate appreciation was apparent. Bryan, Dafydd and Thomas were all very in touch with themselves on stage and also connected to one another, creating a full-band sound with just three individuals.
RELATED:Concert Review: Shame at Hotel Congress
The Joy Formidable soon followed with “Csts” off their most recent album Into the Blue which was released in 2021. Thomas got the crowd fired up with a solid entrance until Bryan and Dafydd entered intensely through crunchy riffs and wide eyes. At times, I was surprised by the contrast between Bryan’s mellowness while speaking and her fervor as a performer. I truly found it a joy (not so formidable) to see the music transform her. Interestingly enough, Bryan said she never really thought she would be a musician in her youth. She started off as a writer, however, and picked up guitar at the 8 years old. She described it as “two worlds colliding.” Despite finding more intimacy in singing, she says her roots always remain in telling a story, whether vocally or instrumentally.
“Y Bluen Eira,” a Welsh song off their fourth album titled Aaarth, gave the audience a jolt. It was mysterious, seeing as it was performed in an unfamiliar language and in a whisper, which contradicted the repeated rich guitar riff of the chorus. With “Sevier,” or what Bryan called “a song about a shitty breakup,” the crowd was once again hyped and met with smiles from the band members themselves.
The band not only produced a memorable sound but also has carefully curated lyrics. When asked whether her lyrics work around the instrumentals or if the lyrics come first, Bryan mentioned that the process is varied. She finds the importance of not being too formulaic because the variety will make for more dynamic writing. Like all artists, though, Bryan experiences writer’s block at times. She says the best way to get out of such a funk is to “not worry about it.” According to her practices, overthinking brings on stress which is a “total energy suck.” If you do things to take your mind off the writer’s block and let the moment pass, you will find balance once again.
Another track off of Into the Blue called “Gotta Feed my Dog” was one of the night’s topics of conversation. While bassist Dafydd provided a soft ambient tune, Bryan recounted the time of quarantine during which she fostered several dogs. She related to us by adding that it feels better to fall asleep next to an animal instead of a human sometimes.
In our interview, Bryan said Into the Blue “chronicles growth and feeling more free and confident.” With the inability to tour during the COVID-19 days, she finally had time for positive introspection, telling me that, as a musician, you “wear a lot of heads and are involved in every aspect of being an artist.” She embraced the “need to be shocked into a realization” and believes that getting past the moments that make you scared gives way to opportunities for positive change.
As the end of their set approached, The Joy Formidable delighted the audience with their top song “Whirring” from their 2011 album The Big Roar. For nearly five minutes, Thomas impressed everybody with a drum break accompanied by an intense flow of guitar and bass from Dafydd and Bryan.
Since seeing The Joy Formidable in concert, I have willingly tuned in to their music, both new and old. They possess the necessary elements of rock — the energetic delivery, fast rhythm and blasting instruments — with an added indie flare of eccentricity. Bryan reminisced on her childhood, saying she avidly listened to the library of vinyls her parents collected. The most memorable listens for her were musicians like Van Morrison, Patti Smith, Led Zeppelin, The Smiths, Talking Heads and The Cure. If you identify with the sounds of any of these artists — and even if you have no idea who any of them are — I can confidently say that The Joy Formidable is easily lovable. Take my word for it, and check out their latest album Into the Blue on streaming services everywhere.
Noor Haghighi is a second-year student exploring ways to harness her passions in environmental science and journalism. She loves wildlife photography and portraiture, fashion, music and film.
Let us come to you. The Daily Wildcat, straight to your inbox. News. Science/Health. Sports. Arts/Lifestyle. You choose. You cancel at any time.
It’s reasonable to expect extreme variety and diversity at Ultima, though many of the more conventional concert events i experienced at this year’s festival were a surprisingly mixed bag, qualitatively speaking. The most taxing was unfortunately a concert celebrating the award of this year’s Arne Nordheim prize to Jan Martin Smørdal. In all honesty, i came away with little idea as to why Smørdal was worthy to receive this prize. Pretty much everything featured in this concert felt like seriously reheated ideas one’s encountered far too many times before, for the most part hoping (vainly) that actions might speak not only louder than words, but also than music. In lieu of meaning, Smørdal seemed primarily concerned with entertaining the audience, and in this respect, judging by the array of chuckles that permeated this concert, he appeared to have succeeded. Personally, it seemed less like a prize-winning portrait than a student’s major project, filled with stuff that was depressingly tame, timid and trivial.
The one piece in the concert that wasn’t an aching cringe-fest of hackneyed tropes and vapid contortions was the opener, Répétitions II for flute and electronics, composed in 2021. Superbly performed by Alessandra Rombolà, the work comprised patterns of rapid lip pizzicati captured in an ever-extending sequence of loops. It was captivating to hear past phrases being continually repurposed and reshaped by present ideas, particularly when Rombolà seamlessly switched between flute and piccolo, and at the close of the work when everything was reduced to soft whistles. It was the one piece in the whole evening where an inherent sense of fun was perfectly aligned with a cogent musical argument. Perhaps Arne Nordheim might have approved… but who can say?
Another curate’s egg concert came courtesy of Cikada on Sunday afternoon. The focus of the event was on Qasim Naqvi, though the three works of his that we heard (two new transformations of the Agnus Dei plainchant for electronics and strings plus a string-only arrangement of an older work) were utterly boring. The fact that chant formed the basis for his pair of Agnus Dei Transmutations was entirely moot, since at such glacial non-speeds as these it could have been based on absolutely anything, reduced as it was to little more than just a blank mush. Perhaps Naqvi believes there’s profundity to be found in this kind of formless noodling, but it was impossible to hear it as anything other than just ponderous and empty. Infinitely more engaging was, again, the concert opener, Salvatore Sciarrino‘s 1987 Piano Trio No. 2. Violinist Karin Hellqvist and cellist Torun Stavseng brilliantly emphasised the precariousness of the music, first delicately balancing on harmonics, later dancing on them. Kenneth Karlson interpreted his role at the piano as that of provocateur, firing gestures at the others, seemingly in the hope of knocking them both over. Only half-heartedly, though, as the conclusion could hardly have been made more united and playful.
One of the most striking – in every sense of the word – performances at Ultima 2022 was also, on the face of it, one of the simplest. The festival began with a rendition of 180 Hammer Blows Against the War Monkeys by Danish Fluxus artist Henning Christensen. It was originally performed by Christensen in 1988 in Berlin as an anti-war demonstration; whether or not the fall of the Berlin Wall the following year was in any precipitated by this action is debatable. Either way, with both that potential power and the ongoing war being raged by Russia against Ukraine in mind, the work was presented again, this time by Christensen’s son, Thorbjørn, in front of Oslo’s austere town hall.
Thorbjørn Christensen: Fridtjof Nansens plass, Oslo Rådhus, 15 September 2022 (photo: Signe Fuglesteg Luksengard)
There was something almost biblical about such stark, simple action, regularly thwacking a slab of metal with a large sledgehammer. Christensen became like a latter-day Joshua at the battle of Jericho, performing an ostensibly futile, even ridiculous ritual that, unbeknownst to anyone else, tapped into some deep, elemental power. With each hammer blow, preceded by a number count and followed by a burst of electronic noise, there was an implied accumulative effect, the impacts joining together to form something altogether more massive and unwieldy. Witnessing Christensen pound relentlessly away was like a small-scale analogue of the tenacity the world needs in never ceasing to stand up to, and pound down upon, all dictators and tyrants. It took a year for the 1988 performance to have its effect; one can only hope this one will achieve its end very much quicker.
It was fitting that the evening began with such a blunt, ritualistic statement as this. It was immediately followed, inside the Town Hall, by a rare performance of Iannis Xenakis‘ 1960s music theatre work Oresteia. By turns primordial, primitive and primal, conveying not so much a narrative as a blunt force sequence of trauma and triumph, i’m not sure i’ve ever experienced a work that so completely managed to sound equally as if it could date from antiquity or have been composed last week. Accompanied by a dazzling light display across the inner walls of the Town Hall, it provoked a profound sense of culture shock, being confronted by music that sidestepped traditions of storytelling and word painting and tapped straight into heartfelt emotional communication. It felt as raw as music could possibly get.
Det Norske Solistkor, Oslo Sinfonietta, Christian Eggen: Oslo Rådhus, 15 September 2022 (photo: Signe Fuglesteg Luksengard)
While the chorus (Det Norske Solistkor) and ensemble (Oslo Sinfonietta) accomplished the world building and a representation of the populace, the extent of that rawness only became fully apparent through the work’s twin mouthpieces, Kassandra and Athena. Nicholas Isherwood’s portrayal of Athena was sober yet unlimited, transcending boundaries and conventions of gender, register and behaviour to the end of articulating awesome truths encrusted with scarlet and gold. Yet this was as nothing beside Seth Carico’s astounding Kassandra. In an aria to end all arias, Carico unleashed a stream of emotional consciousness as if not only Kassandra’s life but his own also depended on it. Heartfelt, desperate, histrionic, tender, imploring, angry, forlorn, spasmodic, lyrical, masculine, feminine – Carico moved through all these and other states with complete fluidity. Though lengthy, his solo proved endlessly arresting, catching us all in an unstoppable torrent / tirade of shrieks and bellows, utterings and entreaties, provoking similar extremes in the instruments, sending them to their registral limits – all piccolos, contrabassoons and tubas – with the percussion punctuating everything with portentous thunderclaps.
Seth Carico: Oslo Rådhus, 15 September 2022 (photo: Signe Fuglesteg Luksengard)
Having hitherto largely avoided even the slightest hint of an even vaguely recognisable notion of sentiment, Xenakis brings Oresteia to an optimistic conclusion, ending in joy and peace. That ending triggered what was, in this context, perhaps the most mind-boggling moment of all: a complete breakdown of the work’s dark severity, as all the players let fly raucous improvisations while the singers – now including a children’s choir – ran amok round the space, wildly celebrating and dancing in the aisles. Here was optimism and catharsis at their most shatteringly authentic.
Mention the late Levon Helm to a fan of Americana music and you’re likely to get a very strong response.
The quick comeback could focus on The Band, for which Levon played drums and mandolin, and sang. And there are, of course, those iconic Band songs that Levon sang, “Up On Cripple Creek,” “Ophelia” and “The Weight” among them.
Levon and The Band performed and recorded with Bob Dylan. Levon played on Ringo Starr’s First All Starr Band tour in 1989. And after recovering from cancer of the vocal cords and nearly losing his home-recording studio to the bank, Levon during the early 2000s staged a colossal comeback.
Design by Mike DuBois, photo by Dino Perrucci
And after recovering from cancer of the vocal cords and nearly losing his home-recording studio to the bank, Levon during the early 2000s staged a colossal comeback.
His winning formula revolved around house concerts he held at Levon Helm Studios in Woodstock, New York, that he called the “Midnight Ramble.” What started out as rent parties and a last hurrah ended up saving Levon’s home and setting him on a path to triumph. The Midnight Rambles were presented to a bankruptcy judge as a source of revenue, and the rest, as they say, is history.
The Rambles drew sold-out crowds and attracted the likes of Emmylou Harris and Ricky Skaggs. These intimate performances set the stage for three Grammy-winning solo albums, and as they reconnected Levon to his loyal fans, the Rambles introduced him to new ones.
But for all that he accomplished in the music industry, the Levon Helm that I got to know, while collaborating on a book with him, has more to do with things that may seem a bit more, well, routine.
When I think of Levon Helm, I recall the guy who grew up in Turkey Scratch, Arkansas, and never lost his passion for farming, tractors and harvest time. Let’s not forget that the Midnight Rambles were based on the traveling medicine shows Levon saw as a kid, growing up in Phillips County, Arkansas. And his 2007 comeback album was called Dirt Farmer.
The Levon Helm I knew loved to watch college football. He indulged his passion for sushi and Popeye’s chicken. And he liked a lot of ice in his beverages of choice—Coca Cola and Boylan’s grape soda—which he drank in a red plastic Solo cup, slipped inside another red Solo plastic cup.
In the wake of Levon’s death in 2012, I continued to work on the book we were collaborating on. Levon Helm: Rock, Roll & Ramble—The Inside Story of the Man, the Music and the Midnight Ramble was recently published and I think that Levon would have been as proud of the final product as I am.
One reason for this is that Rock, Roll & Ramble—with a foreword written by Ringo Starr—covers the ups and the downs of Levon’s life, rather than just his successes.
I traveled often with Levon during his Midnight Ramble era, and during those trips to concerts in the Northeast, and a journey on his tour bus to Bonnaroo in 2008, I recorded our conversations and used them to write the book.
In February 2009, I was traveling with Levon from Manhattan back to Woodstock, after the Levon Helm Band had performed on “Late Night with Conan O’Brien.”
This was during the early stages of the book and I asked Levon if he was comfortable talking about his cancer, his bankruptcy and nearly losing Levon Helm Studios to foreclosure. I am paraphrasing here, but he replied by explaining that a stool needs three legs to work properly, and if you only have two legs, it’s going to fall over. In other words, Levon was saying, we needed all three legs of the stool—we needed to tell the entire story, his entire story.
And so I am very proud to present these excerpts from that story, from Levon Helm: Rock, Roll & Ramble—The Inside Story of the Man, the Music and the Midnight Ramble:
“We were just about at the end of our rope financially,” Levon said. “So the Midnight Ramble was going to be one big rent party or go out with a bang. We were going to have one more tear ‘em down night or two, and all of a sudden, the thing started getting legs of its own and people started wanting to come and pay to get in.
“That was just about the time when the shit was ready to hit the fan. All of a sudden, you’re sick and you can’t work and you haven’t been able to work and the bills don’t stop and they’re still coming in. You’ve got your hands full trying to get well, and then to have the other stuff heaped on top is certainly an unfair way to go. Those radiation treatments, after a while, they can get ahold of you. It’s a little bit raw. The bankruptcy part—that was just getting ready to cloud over and really rain—that don’t scare you after all that radiation.”
On growing up in Arkansas:
“I’ve been to all day sing-alongs with dinner on the ground,” Levonsaid. “They’d lay out those cotton sheets—a big row of them. And putout a couple of tubs of iced tea at the end of one of them; another tub full of Kool-Aid. And all up and down those cotton sheets would be platters of cold fried chicken and coleslaw and potato salad. My mom would always make chicken salad. I would stand right in front of her chicken salad while the blessing was getting said and I’d attack that first.
“I’d go up and down the row of sheets, looking for stuff like angel food cake, things I’d never seen before. That angel food cake was something else. That was the wildest damn thing I’d ever chewed on. Anything you could chew on that was cold, they’d have a bunch of it. It was all gospel groups. In the morning part would be the local church and their choir people. Then everybody’d eat dinner, then other churches would bringin their choir. I could eat, fight and raise hell and listen to music all at the same time”
On The Band, Band manager Albert Grossman and Bob Dylan:
“There weren’t any real albums after the first two, first three. Everything else was ‘Best of,’ ‘Live at You-Know-Where.’ The Band was just a miserable fucking deal. The Band wasn’t never no fun, shit. TheBand always, you know, Albert always wanted to lock everyone in the room, have that stand-offish bullshit, like with Bob. ‘You can’t see Bob.’ Fuck all that, you know? I don’t want to be like that. Shit. There is a lot of arrogance to that bullshit. In fact, that’s why I never could stomach that shit. That ain’t me. No. Uh-uh.”
On the Midnight Ramble:
“The easiest thing I’ve ever done. The whole place turns into a temple for me. There is nothing else and time and everything else is kind of suspended. All I’m conscious of is the pitch, if the pitch is correct. There are no echoes or fancy sound devices. And about 50 percent of what you hear, even on a full electrical tune, is acoustic.
“And walking out of your living room and playing a show—it’s the best. It’s the best. Especially the way the room responds. All I have to do is go shave, take a shower and head out there. We usually stop when it feels like it’s time to stop. When the show’s over, I just walk next door and take my boots off. I believe this might be my payback for all the traveling and stuff. Musicians, their years are like dog years. All that traveling around and now, all of a sudden—I don’t know how we got it to happen. They’re coming here and we don’t even have to crank a car. We leave everything set. And we’ve got all my best equipment; we can sound better here than we can anywhere.
“Each band plays at least an hour, and we probably play at least twohours. By the time we quit, which is between 11:30 and midnight, they’ve had four-to-five hours of music and that’s just about enough in one day. You really can lose the outside world and all those aggravations. At the end of each tune, you can kind of feel that embracement, where you start to realize—music being medicine, you know?
“There is no pressure around here. When you play, you can start prettymuch and finish when you want to and play what you want to. We try toleave it that way, let it be what it wants to be.”
And here are some of my thoughts from the book, as the author, regarding Levon Helm:
When Levon sang, you could feel your own heart aching in his voice. The conviction with which he sang gave you courage. His signature vocal tone was part growl, part roar, part plea for help and it served as a lightning rod for all of our troubles, not just for a few hours at a gig, but across generations.
When Levon sang—with one turn of a phrase, one note, one lyric—he somehow managed to capture the despair we all feel, the hope that keeps us going and the resolution for which we never stop longing. He tapped into that terrifying sensation of solitude that every one of us has experienced, at those times in our lives when you feel like you haven’t got a friend in the world. But Levon also made you feel like he was right there with you, clinging desperately to any solid ground that remained, as his world fell apart in a manner that wasn’t much different than the way in which your world might be falling apart.
Levon Helm had resolve. He did not give up. And he maintained that
sparkle in his eye and that laugh in his gut through all the calamity. Levon Helm represented much of what we value in those we admire, and a lot of what we wished to be true of ourselves.
All of this resonated so strongly with his audience because just like youand me, Levon was forced to manage the madness of life and make sense of insanity. There was a bond of familiarity he shared with millions of people he never met.
To quote Levon about Levon, “There was a guy who never met a stranger.” Here’s a Coke, have yourself a chair, I’m glad to know ya.
John W. Barry first met Levon Helm while working as music writer for the USA Today Network/Poughkeepsie Journal in New York’s Hudson Valley.
You can learn more about Levon Helm: Rock, Roll & Ramble by visiting rockrollramble.com and https://amzn.to/3Q7FHOI.
I would like to contribute to FFF (Fridays for Future) in my own way: by sharing one concrete action per week that YOU can do, and which I have done, for combating climate change.
FFF15: Sign petition for Finnish forests
WHY: Finland is cutting down old forests at an alarming rate. Old forests are particularly rich in both biodiversity, a factor that is needed for combating pandemics. Areas with good biodiversity can produce a number of important benefits for their regions and, by extension, the people who live nearby. These include functions like protecting nearby water systems, encouraging the formation of healthy soil, and breaking down ambient air pollution.
WHAT CAN I DO: Sign the petition for Finnish forests. (You need a Finnish telephone number and to give them your name and email.) Greenpeace has made a petition that asks the Finnish Prime Minister Sanna Marin to commit to protecting the preservation of old forests. You can also go to the website and instagram of Greenpeace for more information.
I like to share petitions every now and then, because personally I feel it’s a easy thing to do against climate change. And they do affect: the EU ruled that oat milk and other non dairy products are allowed to be called oat milk also in the future! Yay!
And for people outside Finland, go check out if there is a petition for protecting old forests in your home country you can sign!
Link to petition: https://www.greenpeace.org/finland/toimi/enemman-suojelua-enemman-elamaa/ https://unity.edu/sustainability/benefits-protecting-old-growth-forests-sustainability-studies
Dry Cleaning performed at Market Hotel for two sold out NYC shows.
On Friday 11/19 and Saturday 11/20, London-based post-punk band Dry Cleaning headlined two sold out shows at Market Hotel. Lead singer Florence Shaw delivered haunting spoken word vocals, while bandmates Nick Buxton, Tom Dowse, and Lewis Maynard played riffs and rhythms that kept the crowd dancing. Opening up both nights, NYC based punk band Blair ensured the crowd was properly warmed up.
Dry Cleaning’s critically acclaimed debut album New Long Leg came out in April 2021 (via 4AD) with many fans in attendance excited to finally see songs from the new record performed live. These two shows at Market Hotel (plus an appearance on Jimmy Fallon on Friday 11/19) made for quite the stacked weekend in the city. Head below to check out photos of both bands’ energizing sets taken by a few of our favorite local photographers Qbertplaya, Edwina Hay, and Steph Rinzler.
Night One – Friday, November 19, 2021
Photos by Qbertplaya.
Night Two – Saturday, November 20, 2021
Photos by Edwina Hay.
Nights One and Two – Friday, November 19 + Saturday, November 20, 2021
