This clip features a very appealing animation style, and the song by Montreal-based artist Lhasa de Sela is subtly beautiful yet melancholic, managing to avoid the suicidal tendencies of so much contemporary art/folk pop -- sleepy and gorgeous! The old world, harp-fed sparkles add to the ambiance, as though the streets of the French-Canadian landscape were translated to the shores of the Baltic Sea.
Other tracks from her self-titled album Lhasa carry the same drifting style, making you feel as if you're in a row boat with her, lolling in the tide of life's irrational regularity. Even in the mundane, there is mystery, and Lhasa's soulful timbre helps take you there.
Link to Lhasa De Sela's official website & MySpace to listen to other tracks. Her biography reveals the roots of her ethereal, spiritual sound. Explore!
After all the heavy subject matter here, I've decided some levity is in order. This track, a mash-up of sorts, was recorded in Michigan in 2005 or so (can't say for sure). The utter cuteness was too much for me to keep to myself. Enjoy Lea's extemporaneous interpretation of Dr. Seuss!
The fact that I'm even following up on the earlier post about the Gulf oil spill is worst of all. The hope was that the gushing, collosal engineering mistakes 5,000 ft below the shimmering Gulf's surface would have been capped by now. It is simply flabbergasting that BP and its host of collaborators have yet to stop or even slow the flow of oil and natural gas in the Gulf of Mexico. There is hardly an upside to this epic environmental disaster, but one is there nonetheless.
There was "top hat", then little "top hat", then the "junk shot" and the "mud shot" and of course, the "muddy junk shot"; however, the most important word I've heard bandied about is this: moratorium. Halting deepwater drilling projects and taking time to investigate the Murphy's law circumstances that led to the deadly Deepwater Horizon explosion are prudent (gladly taking that word back from a previous administration) steps at this critical juncture (reclaiming that one, too!). In the meantime, President B.H.O. should gather up his favorite back-pocket legislators, grab Dr. Steven Chu and get crackin' on renewable energy options and green-jobs creation--these were some decent sized planks in the platform, remember?
If the deaths of those Transocean employees could do any good, it will be in forcing the Obama administration, the Interior Department, and fossil fuel interests to go about their business in a safer more considerate way. No longer will the surgeon slice and dice without thinking about sewing Mother Earth back up again. If these companies can't prove their effective contingency planning, then they plain aren't invited into the operating theater! No swim daiper? Then, sorry, baby can't come into the pool; uh, BP, now we know you're not wearing your swim daiper.
Jon Stewart (a.k.a. Stewbeef) runs down the clean-up debacle in a hilarious segment from The Daily Show, May 13, 2010, especially enjoyable due to its clever jabs at the always piss-poor Detroit Lions and astute recognition of Mayan endtimes indicators. Enjoy!
Warning:This is the start of a diatribe, and I'm even going to criticize...the President! No, I'm not a right-wing nutcase, and no, I'm not a bleeding heart liberal (or what Libertarian radio nut Neal Boortz would call a "bed-wetting Liberal"). I'm simply someone with an opinion, and this is my forum, so here we go!
Close on the heels of a disastrous coal mine accident in West Virginia, the Gulf of Mexico is now becoming a vast oil slick thanks to our pals at British Petroleum. The spill -- which is still emanating from the well-head deep in the Gulf -- is the result of a massive explosion that cost several employees their lives. Just as in the case of the coal mine in West Virginia, the loyal workers were after energy to be harvested for our consumption.
Very recently our fine President attended a memorial service in the mourning coal-mining region of Raleigh County, West Virginia to pay his respects for the lives lost in the mine shaft collapse at the Upper Big Branch Mine owned by the Massey Energy Company. Commentators emphasized that mining for high quality coal in extremely deep mines is highly dangerous and the companies (and presumably the employees doing the real work) understand the heightened degree of risk. Pockets of volatile methane gas, as were thought to be the deadly culprit in this incident, can turn a typical underground workday into tragedy for miners, several of whom have gone on record saying that they would never recommend mining as a profession to their children.
I don't recall the timing, but President Obama's announcement that a widened area in the Gulf would be opened to offshore drilling, such as BP's debilitated Deepwater Horizon outfit, could not have been more insensitive considering the freshness of the WV accident. Instead of admitting the potential dangers of continuing on a path of home-harvested fossil fuel consumption, Obama in essence has given Big Oil a free pass to do as it will in our coastal vicinity. No, we may not ever see the drilling platforms because they'll be situated more than 125 miles from any Gulf coastline, but that does not make the inherent threat of man-made disaster any less frightening.
So, as BP's busted Deepwater Horizon well continues to gush black gold, at a depth of 5,000 feet below the Gulf's now slick surface, executives have admitted that the "containment dome" technology they're employing may or may not even work to minimize what may eventually be recognized as the most severe environmental disaster of this century thus far. Take a look at these Nature Conservancy photos of the Gulf Coast because chances are we won't see this kind of pristine coastal wetland habitat for a very, very long while.
Even though it is a desperate environmental situation on a grand scale, there areways to help. There are individuals and groups (including BP, of course) doing the arduous work of cleaning up the spill, but they embark on a years-long struggle.
Now I wonder, is this what President Obama had in mind when he approved the expansion of the drilling zone in the Gulf? If this isn't a clear enough omen, then a more dire warning will never come. The eased "Drill, baby, drill!" restrictions are exactly what Obama opposed in his Presidential campaign, and his propensity toward compromise, while admirable and effective at times, in this case has proven him a fool in eco-political terms. Where is the "green energy" sector he spoke about so enthusiastically for all those heady months? Was all that simply rhetoric -- just one big "read my lips" ploy? I hope not.
Listen up: I'll venture to say that the majority of Americans don't want sullied coasts, unswimmable seas, dead wildlife, dead workers, nor do we want impervious, ungovernable corporations profit-making in our waters without regard for the safety of the American citizenry or our delicate North American ecosystems.
Check out the progress of the clean-up effort and the extent of the environmental damage with these Coast Guard updates.
A couple of weeks ago, Conan O'Brien finally found a spot to park his late-night genius and that spot will be on the TBS network. Typically a cable channel used for reruns and relatively low-budget comedy series, TBS will be home to the new, 11pm Conan O'brien show starting in November 2010.
Here's my editorial snippet:Conan O'Brien and manager Gavin Polone have made a solid decision by moving to the land of cable instead of continuing on the network path. He'll be freed up to do the edgy kind of comedy that propelled him to success in late-night slots, first as a writer on Saturday Night Live, and most famously as the host of NBC's Late Night.
The main concern, had Conan stayed on with NBC, would have been how to keep himself and his show from slipping into the stodgy, overwrought, overproduced grey area of "unfunny" that Leno occupied so well for so long. After years on The Tonight Show, even Jay was looking to reinvigorate his act through stand-up tours; it didn't work, however!
A pair of stories caught my eye today and both concern the skies above.
Europe is in limbo right now, hovering in the delicate time between a major Icelandic volcanic eruption and the inevitably troublesome "fallout" of that event. According to the news, the eruption spewed forth towering billows of ash and steam from its source deep beneath an Icelandic glacier, one of those retreating, climatic barometers for our troublesome environmental times.
Although I come from a family dominated by scientists, I can't confidently say that this amount of particulate matter in the atmosphere will have a cooling effect on the Earth's atmosphere, at least on a temporary basis, but I have read about "cloud seeding" and "geo-engineering" and this diffusion of the sun's energy is the main goal of those still controversial methods.
So, while European asthma sufferers will probably suffer more in the coming months, in essence the atmosphere, in its search for equilibrium, may react favorably to the injection of these shadow-inducing particles. If this all sounds too neat and tidy to follow a natural disaster, then I'm going to have to get a volcanologist (or vulcanologist, whichever seems logical) to explain further -- in fact, I know a guy, so check the comments below soon!
The other story I came across reminded me of an event from my childhood in Michigan. There were several reports of a meteor careening through the atmosphere over the state of Wisconsin on the evening of April, 14th. Witnesses describe a glowing orb moving quickly and steadily, flickering toward the horizon accompanied by a sonic boom; shucks, you might as well see this video:
These stories come up once in a while, followed by a deluge of bizarre, sometimes conspiratorial commentary thanks to freeing anonymity of the Internet, but the fact is as we go hurling through the galaxy, we do cross paths with asteroid fields such as the Virginid complex which may have been the cause for this most recent "fireball" (and, yes, that's the official term used by astronomers!).
When I was just about middle-school age, one of these "fireballs" came streaking down my street, literally! The flash and glow I recall was an electric green color and other kids reported seeing it, too. My street ran East-West and so the green "fireball" of my memory seemed to glow more and more intensely, seemingly hovering at the West end of the street. It didn't really move, as such, but rather just produced a lingering green luminescence (no sonic boom though) lasting no more than five seconds or so. I remember telling a kid who'd been visiting family in Chicago at the time, and he described the same green flash!
The skies above are indeed alive, and all one has to do is look up once in a while to be reminded.
"When I look down, I miss all the good stuff. When I look up, I trip over things."~ lyric by Ani DiFranco
There's no need to remark on the Carnegie Hall or Lincoln Centers of the land; that would be like reminding folks that Buffet is a billionaire or that Tyson is a tough cookie with a squeaky voice!
Instead, I'd rather focus on those smaller, more immediate venues for live music that may have gone unnoticed, sometimes even in our own hometowns. There are so many well-designed, intimate spaces that afford the attentive audience a chance to not only listen and see live music in its most pure form, but also to become part of the experience. In these special musical spots, your clap actually matters and when you whistle and holler, the artists feel it and feed off it to everyone's benefit. What follows is only a tiny selection of magical venues to explore:
The Ark in Ann Arbor, MI - Back in the U of M days, this is where I got my first taste of music performance in-the-round listening to the songs and stories of legends like Greg Brown along with new guard of folk acts like Steppin' In It (don't know them? well, you better!). It's a nationally known stop for singer / songwriters and for jazzheads to catch the likes of John Scofield and Medeski, Martin, and Wood. Despite the notion of "flyover country", the Ark is one venue not to miss if you're in the midwest.
The Rialto Room at Hotel Indigo, Athens, GA - Although Hotel Indigo can be a bit pretentious (the hipster/frat quotient is high!), the Rialto Room is a space that was designed for intimacy and quality acoustics using "state-of-the-art equipment". It so well-planned that you feel like the artist is playing practically for you alone. It's remarkable what good design can do to showcase the art that the acts bring to town, admittedly one frequently flooded with quality music.
The Bottom of The Hill in San Francisco, CA - I hear good things about this spot, but I've yet to get there -- in due time. Based on the schedule, this small venue caters to acts on the rise and established artists, as well in various genres including "alternative, rock-a-billy, punk, and hard-rock" with a bit of "folk, punk, and pop" mixed in. Rolling Stone considers this "the best place to hear live music" in SF which is seriously saying something (RS 813).
The Variety Playhouse in Atlanta, GA - This is another "must play" venue for acts small and medium in addition to those legends who recognize the value of seeing the whites of the listeners' eyes. You can sit movie-theater style; you can smoke in the dedicated "smoker's alley" (although you shouldn't 'cause those buggers will eventually end up smoking you!) or you can dance it up close to the stage. I've seen many greats shows at the Variety and the neighborhood of Little Five Points is funky and fun for before and after!
The Highline Ballroom in NYC - If this one is anywhere near the new Highline Urban Park, then it's worth a visit; not to mention, it seems like every band / artist I watch out for is playing this ballroom on tour. Big reputation!
Johnny Brenda's in Philidelphia - Just one that I discovered in my searching, and it looks like one to check out in Philly. Anytime the name is one of those "man-lady" combos, you can bet it's a place where the love sows the seeds of musical adventure! Been there? Tell us about it.
How about your area? Is there some spot where you go to see live music that's not a stadium sporting a corporate moniker? Tell me about it: Post a comment and I'll put it on the bucket list.
To close, I leave you with the lyrics to a classic Dan Hicks tune that makes my point about heading to these wonderfully inviting, small venues to get yourself in tune with live musical energy!
CANNED MUSIC Dan Hicks
Canned music, canned music, playing on the radio Canned music, canned music, with out a doubt it doesn't go Favorites on the jukebox are only half the show when it's Canned music, canned music
A little before she left me, I asked her what it's all about She said I feel like dancin', She feel like stepping out I took her with the van, where the band was on the stand, playin' Live music live music
She got us on the dance floor, to me it was a sight I never seen my baby movin', like the moves she made on me that night I did not have a chance the way that music made me dance, it was ah Live music, live music
The rhythm was all around us, we was really steppin' out My baby said I'm livin' for this music, I asked her what it's all about She said I'm just a silly girl, this stuff has got me in a whirl It's just some live music, live music
And that was the night she left me, danced herself into my memory My baby had to leave me for the drummer, I guess I'll never solve that mystery I think I've learned my lesson just don't get too near the band when it's Live music, live music
A little before she left me, I asked her what it's all about She said she feel like dancin', she feel like steppin' out
After seeing the Academy Award winning documentary for 2010, The Cove, I swore to write off sushi forever. I think I knew about dangerous mercury levels in certain fish like bluefin tuna (and even large, fresh water fish species) before seeing the film which focuses on the plight of dolphins, specifically those cetaceans being slaughtered in Taiji, Japan (which continued at least until the film's release in Japan this year). However, I've enjoyed many a sushi marathon in various states, and I admit that it's a dining pleasure that has not been easy to forsake.
For Earth Day's 40th anniversary, The Nature Conservancy is making an effort to address the problem of mercury in the seafood we consume. The only way to avoid mercury build-up in humans is to avoid eating those sea creatures with high-levels as a result of predation which acts to concentrate the toxin in organisms' flesh. Of course, enjoy the sea's bounty, but be careful what you buy and what you order! Here are some links to help aid in the tricky seafood selection process: FishPhone - a clever little text-message service to help you choose which fish... Seafood WATCH - Monterrey Bay Aquarium's downloadable pocket guides for seafood shopping The Nature Conservancy - go directly to the article by Kate Frazer, "From Sea to Plate"
Over the Easter holiday, I had the opportunity to witness firsthand the fast-paced sport of jai alai. Stepping into the Orlando Jai Alai Fronton (that's was the arena for the sport is called) was like walking into a sliver of Miami Vice-era Florida with plenty of colorful characters lurking about each with a glimmer of hope for the upcoming match. I posted a few bets, nothing ambitious, but the main draw was to witnesss the game play itself -- to verify why they call it "the fastest game in the world"!
The height of jai alai's popularity ---> the moustachioed 70's
According to historians, jai alai was originally played bare-handed against the wide and tall church walls in the Basque region of Northern Spain. The game comes to us via Cuba and then Miami and eventually the Eastern Seaboard of the U.S. as well as gambling centers in the American West. Now a significant draw for wagerers, it seems that wherever the colonizing Spanish went, jai alai, or any of a handful of other "ball and a wall" games followed.
It's tough to get a true sense of the speed, agility, and coordination required of the players, but this video does a good job illustrating the dimensions of the game and the ever-present element of fear. The fundamentals of the catching and throwing are not that difficult to master; the real challenge is to muster up the 'cojones' to get in front of the speeding 'pelota', to scoop it and whip it, and at an angle that will make it hard to field on the rebound!
While the reasoning behind choosing the blog name 'vade mecum' was decent, it turns out that I only fixated on one part of the phrase's meaning. In truth, 'vade mecum' refers to an indispensable "handbook" (something of value and wisdom) that one takes along on every jaunt. Although I'd love to say that this is indeed that, I can't lie; while entertaining, nothing here is truly indispensable, so I'm moving on to the next title.
This time around I've honed in on 'mutatis mutandis'. No, it's not about any kind of District 9 style alien colonization. Mainly, the new title reminds me that thus far I've taken various tacks in this cloudspace and that I should continue to branch out. I'll be including more music clips, interviews, and remembrances, but I'm also not throwing out the bathwater yet, so to speak.
Thanks to Ken Burns and PBS, I'd heard of Stuart Udall before he died recently at the age of 90. In career terms, Udall was the forward-looking conservationist who served as Secretary of the Interior under Presidents Kennedy and Johnson. Under his tenure, our nation expanded a mandate of stewardship for our natural surroundings that began with John Muir and Theodore Roosevelt. This excerpt from the New York Times article by Keith Schneider and Cornelia Dean illustrates his legacy:
Few corners of the nation escaped Mr. Udall’s touch. As interior secretary in the Kennedy and Johnson administrations, he presided over the acquisition of 3.85 million acres of new holdings, including 4 national parks — Canyonlands in Utah, Redwood in California, North Cascades in Washington State and Guadalupe Mountains in Texas — 6 national monuments, 9 national recreation areas, 20 historic sites, 50 wildlife refuges and 8 national eashores. He also had an interest in preserving historic sites, and helped saved Carnegie Hall from destruction.
Having visited certain of these treasured lands, I feel a direct debt of gratitude to Udall and his compatriots who recognized that his generation (as does ours today) held the power to preserve this continent's natural history for forthcoming Americans even in the face of strident opposition.
His descriptions of the Guadalupe Mountains hit home for me and helped to conjure up memories of days and nights spent at the foot of that great, monolithic ship's prow in Texas: the feel of the cool air, the sound of crunching footsteps as they echoed up canyon walls, and the magic of the life-giving streams trickling down the valley. Stuart Udall saw the grand value of these now heralded places before most others, and we should consider ourselves lucky that he did.
"Plans to protect air and water, wilderness and wildlife are in fact plans to protect man."- Stuart Udall
Bela Fleck's enthralling documentary film retraces the evolution of the banjo from its roots in Africa. When I saw the film, I knew I had to write about it if only to alert all my many banjo playing friends out there (the number keeps growing!). As it turns out, Marc Gabriel Amigone at the Afrobeat Blog has already done a fine review, so I'll just let you get it from there. Self-dubbed 'Afro Marc' has an excellent thing going, and his spot seems to be the place to get your finger on the pulse of Afrobeat music's history and its recent resurgence.
Here's a little taste of what makes Throw Down Your Heart so special (Fleck meets Anania Ngoliga in Tanzania, finding the first in a string of musical soulmates):
Sometimes it's surprising how a random search, a click, a series of intriguing words can lead to an unexpected place. This is what led me to discover the Fluxus Movement, oddly enough, by way of recording artist Beck.
I've always been a Beck fan (saw him live once in Vegas) and decided to find out if that rumor -- the one where Beck is purportedly the older brother of the all-in-the-family, teeny-"mmm-bopper" group Hanson -- is actually true. As it turns out, he's not a Hanson brother although his surname is Hansen (tiny difference there, eh, like the difference between Swedes and Norwegians). Beck is, however, the progeny of a quietly heralded but influential artistic family.
Chicago Gatby Al Hansen, 1966
Hershey bar wrappers, painted wood, 11 3/4 x 11 3/4
photo credit: banffcentre.ca
Beck's grandfather, Al Hansen, while not credited as a co-founder, was one of the early artists to join George Maciunas, who is credited as the founder, in establishing and disseminating the essential vibe of the largely "d.i.y." Fluxus movement. Beyond that, Beck has said that his grandfather Al was a talented jive-talker and who better to spout-off, in slick but sometimes archaic, street-wise lingo, the virtues of this new, experimental movement.Until recently, Allen Bukoff, a founding member himself, was the most active mouthpiece for Fluxus; check the "Dear Fluxus" link below to find out if that's still the case.
To define Fluxus is a bit tricky; not even the founders could really tell you what it was (is). Good ol' Wikipedia describes the beginnings of the movement in terms of "event scores and Fluxus boxes" the latter of which were diorama-type assemblages of found materials (nothing too complex allowed -- no gold leaf, Gustav!). They may also have simply pointed to the top of a building just as a grand piano was sent careening to an explosive death by gravity. However it looked or sounded or felt, most agree that Fluxus was riding a wave that composer John Cage set in motion with his avant-garde works on mysterious, invented instruments. So, you see, looking into Fluxus becomes a kind of Pandora's Box -- watch out below!
photo credit: museum.mit.edu
You can easily find out more about the Fluxus Movement if you only try:
Audio interview ca. 1977 with Allen Bukoff & George Maciunas -- fascinating, bizarre ramblings from the founders themselves.
The Manifesto is here and now and has been since Maciunas birthed it in 1963.
Dear Fluxus open letter to "the founders" -- Bukoff is off and done and gone according to these only slightly cynical, severely scathing sentiments! Please, let us not grow old and bitter.
photo courtesy of bbc.co.uk
