The Reconstructionists

This is such a fabulous project. Lisa Congdon and Maria Popova are creating the Reconstructionists:

The Reconstructionists, a collaboration between illustrator Lisa Congdon and writer Maria Popova, is a yearlong celebration of remarkable women — beloved artists, writers, and scientists, as well as notable unsung heroes — who have changed the way we define ourselves as a culture and live our lives as individuals of any gender.

Every Monday in 2013, we’ll be publishing an illustrated portrait of one such trailblazing woman, along with a hand-lettered quote that captures her spirit and a short micro-essay about her life and legacy.

The project borrows its title from Anaïs Nin, one of the 52 female icons, who wrote of “woman’s role in the reconstruction of the world” in a poetic 1944 diary entry — a sentiment that encapsulates the heart of what this undertaking is about: women who have reconstructed, in ways big and small, famous and infamous, timeless and timely, our understanding of ourselves, the world, and our place in it.

Here is one entry that seems especially appropriate for this blog:

When 23-year-old Sister Rosetta Tharpe (March 20, 1915 – October 9, 1973) first walked into the recording studio in 1938, she likely didn’t dare imagine that she would one day be celebrated as gospel music’s first superstar. The godmother of rock and roll. “The original soul sister.” But that’s precisely what the talented singer and electric guitarist went on to become, bridging the spiritual lyricism of gospel with the secular allure of rock and roll arrangements.

Lemon parsley sauce

Make this and serve it with roasted veggies, some greens and poached eggs, or with salmon.

  • 1 bunch flat leaf parsley
  • 6 anchovy fillets
  • 2 tbsp capers
  • grated zest 2 lemons
  • 1/2 cup lemon juice
  • 1/4 cup olive oil
  • ground pepper

Whizz everything except the olive oil and pepper in the food processor. Then add the olive oil gradually as you whizz, til it’s mixed in properly. Then add some pepper.

If you’re a vegan or a vegetarian and you don’t eat anchovies, I’m not sure what you can do. Or what can be done for you. You’ll need to up the salt without them. And, well, look. Just don’t bother. Don’t bother. You need anchovies.

Honeysuckle Rose

‘Honeysuckle Rose’ is one of my absolute favourite songs. It shouldn’t surprise you that it was composed by Fats Waller, with lyrics by Andy Razaf. Waller was super talented. Duh.
There are sixty billion different versions of Honeysuckle Rose. Sixty billion.

This is one of Waller’s:

linky

But I want to look at this one, by Basie’s band in 1937:

linky

I love love love love it. There’s something about that bigger band, and Basie’s different piano style that adds to the song.

I was just listening to this version by Jonathon Stout and Glen Crytzer’s bands battling together with this song as the framework:

linky

I’m not an expert, but this sounds like an adaption of the Basie arrangement. And then they add a bunch more layers to the song. The dixie ‘joke’ in the middle is gold, and a really good example of the difference between swing era swing and that earlier moment in jazz, before swing stormed the world. I’ve written about this performance a bunch of times, and you can follow up some links to the musicians’ own ideas about the song via links in my post bands for dancing.

hot as fuck: bands

It’s 45*C in Sydney.

Things that dancers just need to get over wrt live bands:

  • Long songs. Just deal, yo. You don’t have to dance the whole thing. And you don’t have to dance two songs with each partner.
  • Songs that start slow, then get faster after the intro. It’s not that big a deal.
  • Fast songs. You don’t have to dance the whole thing, and you don’t have to dance every song. Get some fitness, get some small dancing happening, get over yourselves.
  • A band’s songs all ‘sounding the same’. Geezus. They’re a BAND not a DJ. They got a thing going on: get used to it.

Things that bands need to figure out if they want to play gigs organised by and for dancers:

  • Dancers like songs that are about 3 minutes long. This is because they’re usually used to dancing to CDs. Technology enforced this 3 minute rule. Suck it up. You can play your long songs, yo, but if you play lots of really long, really fast songs, the dancers will eventually all sit down. SCIENCE, BRO.
  • Not everyone in the band needs a solo. Unless your band is made up of the Esquire All Stars, you’re probably not that good. Sorry, mates, but that’s how it is. This isn’t a democracy: it’s jazz. Even if you are that good, I’m not convinced you’ve always got something to say.
  • Dancers aren’t seated audiences. They’re not listening to the music the way seated audiences are. They’re riding their adrenaline, and their appreciation for your art is going to be tempered by their physical abilities. This means:
    • If you play all super fast songs, and all super long songs, your dancing crowd is going to die. Work the tempo wave, yo.
    • Dancers are jocks, pretty much. They’re not going to appreciate that complicated, noodly bit of low-energy, finger-fiddling bit of solo that goes on for four phrases. Stop that. It’s wankery. Get your head up, look at the room and not at your fingers. Work the crowd.
    • Engage the crowd. Yeah, you’re an artist. But right now you’re playing for dancers. Make some eye contact. Pay attention to what you see, and learn to understand what you see. The communication between dancers and audiences isn’t verbal. It’s non-verbal. Dancers learn to dig what you’re doing, so you learn to dig what they’re doing. Then we can all be a TEAM.
    • Long bass solos are boring. Sorry, Ray Brown, but four phrases of subsonic twiddling = dull dancing. Stop it.
    • Dancers are unlikely to clap your solo. Sorry mates. But they’ll let you know they’re listening with the way they move.