3/27/07
I've become quite familiar with the odd routine of loading my car with my bass flight case and heading to one of the three NYC airports, to perform in some far away land. I typically experience some trepidation out of concern for how the bass (and I) will fare through the airport check-in process. Experience has taught me to leave early, and that at airports, boredom is always preferable to stress.
JFK to Paris was the voyage du jour. I got a particularly early start this time, because I picked up our trombone player, Curtis Fowlkes. He was on a flight that left an hour earlier than mine, so I dropped him off before I parked. That worked just fine for me.
On this trip, I'm performing with the band Sotto Voce, in Paris and in Amsterdam. In addition to Curtis and me, the band consists of Sam Bardfeld on violin, Napoleon Maddox on human beatbox, and our leader Roy Nathanson on saxophone and spoken word. I just joined this band three weeks ago, and I've had a large quantity of music to learn, including numerous vocal parts. The rehearsal process went well, mostly because I cracked the whip on myself and came prepared. It also helped that these are a fun bunch of guys who don't take things so seriously that you can't have fun with the music. The story goes that their regular bass player couldn't make it at the last minute, so they called me. He, incidentally, was a student of mine back in my Boston days.
The check-in line at Air France wasn't too long, and the counter person was very helpful and friendly. You never know what kind of reaction you're going to get when they see a six-foot tall instrument case that weighs 90 pounds. You also never know what kind of fee they're going to slap on you, especially on an international flight. This is a music tour, after all. My expenses are covered, but everything is on a budget. Thankfully, it only cost $150, which was well within reason. The next step was security, which can also be nerve-wracking. You can never be sure that if the TSA agents open the flight case, they'll close it properly. On this occasion, a friendly Air France staff member accompanied me to the security area, where the TSA people kindly allowed me to open and close the case for them, and even put it on the oversize belt myself. That was a big relief. Sometimes you get an absent-minded baggage handler wheeling it off into never-never land, where it's at the mercy of the security personnel without supervision. That can be disquieting, to say the least. One can only hope the instrument survives the trip intact, once it's out of your hands. Nonetheless, at this point in the trip my load was significantly lightened, and I could relax through the overnight flight to Paris.
3/28/07
I was met by my driver at CDG airport the next morning, after an efficient delivery of my small suitcase and large instrument. Initial inspection revealed a safe trip for the bass. I have to give Air France high marks for friendly bass transport. The food wasn't bad either.
Upon arrival at the hotel, I was greeted warmly by my fellow band members, who were finishing breakfast. I dropped off my things in the room, and eventually went out for some delicious Lebanese food with Curt and Roy. The neighborhood we're staying in is Pantin, on the edge of the Paris city limits and the suburbs. It's a real mix on the street, although the local residents consist mostly of Africans and North African Arabs. The music conservatory is nearby, as are several performance venues. Conversely, this area was the scene of the notorious Paris riots and car burnings that occurred in 2005. A significant percentage of the local population is clearly disenfranchised. The festival we are involved with is part of an outreach program to the community, and an invitation to Parisians to venture out to the suburbs for a good variety of live performances.
After our meal, I opted to ride the Metro into the center of town and stroll around, this being my first time in Paris. It was a beautiful sunny day, probably 70 degrees. I walked the Champs Elysees to the Arc Du Triomphe. There were signs of spring everywhere... flowering trees, green grass, and beautiful gardens. I smartly paid the €8 to climb to the top of the Arc. It was a stunning view of the city. Paris is really as amazing as everyone says. After a stroll down to the Seine, I went back to the hotel for some sleep.
Later, the band led a workshop/rehearsal with students at a local music school. This was a treat. The students were great, and the school has a great staff and a good vibe. We were preparing for a performance with them a few days later. I was in charge of directing the rhythm section, in particular two talented and affable bass players.
After the rehearsal, the festival promoter, Zachary, took us out for a real French meal in a Parisian restaurant. Now this was something special. The food, the wine, the service, and the experience were amazing. I eventually hit the wall with jetlag as the evening wore on, but it was well worth it. I finally got to sleep at 1:30 AM, with a 7:30 wake-up call looming. But it was nothing a fine meal couldn't alleviate.
3/29/07
Today we were scheduled for a 9:55 AM train to Amsterdam for our first concert. My day got off to a shakey start, partly the result of sleeping past my wake-up call and thus not having time for breakfast. I did manage to wolf down a few bites of yogurt and granola before we left the hotel, but that was it... there was no time for tea. We arrived at the Gare du Nord, and went to the window to validate our EurRail passes. Unfortunately, due to a forgotten passport, Sam, Roy, and Napoleon couldn't validate their Eurail tickets. They would have to purchase new tickets and come on a later train... a real bummer for the aforementioned musician's budget. Curt and I had our own reservation, so we were able to travel as scheduled. The train was pretty packed, and yet again, I had to figure out (hopefully without stressing out) where to put the bass for the journey. I discovered my only option was to lean it against one of the exit doors (yikes). It actually wouldn't have made any difference if the train had been empty... that was the only place for it. The conductors were very understanding, however, and suggested I get up and check on the bass at each stop (five in all). This was just to make sure the instrument wouldn't be in anyone's way, and to be sure the door wasn't about to open without my moving the bass first. It worked out fine, although I wasn't at liberty to sleep. Plus, we had three French youths who were getting plastered and carrying on right next to us, in anticipation of their Amsterdam holiday. They had lots of beers flowing early in the day, and by the time we got to Amsterdam, the scene was getting pretty rowdy.
We arrived at 2:30 PM, and I went on a nice stroll and had lunch at a lovely outdoor cafe... just what the doctor ordered after a hectic morning. Indeed, the coffeeshops were smelling really good, and the beer was looking really good, but I resisted. There was work to be done, and I had had little sleep.
After a short but restful nap, we left for our soundcheck and gig at the Bimhuis. This is perhaps the best-known jazz club in Amsterdam, and it relocated to a new space two years ago. I had never played at the old location, but I heard a band play there once. The former Bimhuis was in an older part of town. It had a warm feeling, the result of the audience being in close proximity to the musicians, and its small space in general. The new location, in contrast, is in a spacious modern building elevated above street level with a beautiful view of the city and the water. There's also a bar and a restaurant adjacent to the club, which is a nice addition.
It was good for me (all of us, really) to run through the Sotto Voce music during our sound check. I hadn't played much in the past few days, much less this music. The sound in the new Bimhuis was nothing short of impeccable, which made the rehearsal very easy. After a nice dinner on site, we performed a somewhat sloppy but very energetic show. The room was about half full, but the enthusiasm of the audience made it feel like a packed house. All in all I was pleased with my first crack at the music, but there was plenty of room for improvement. It's nothing another rehearsal couldn't fix.
I had some delicious European beer after the show, and some nice conversation with various people who were hanging out late. I do like Amsterdam. I've been there so much in the past few years, it almost feels like a second home city.
3/30/07
The train ride back to Paris was considerably more civilized than the trip out. There were no forgotten documents, no drunks, and our seats were near the door so I could manage the bass much more easily. Plus, we all sat together, which made for animated conversation and laughs. I tuned out at one point and listened to a Radiohead CD. That band knocks me out. I dig them more and more every time I hear them. This was also a "high life" moment for me... on tour in Europe with great musicians, traveling by train, looking forward to more music, and getting paid for it. Indeed, it's a pretty good life (even though we musicians complain all the time).
That evening we had another rehearsal with the student band and the young kids. This time everyone was there, which totaled about 60 people. In addition to our band and the student band, there was a chorus and a beatbox chorus, which consisted primarily of 13-year-olds. The mix of nationalitites of the kids was reminiscent of New York. Some were French, some were Arabic, and some were African, and it was about 50/50 girls and boys. They seemed to get along famously, and were very supportive of one another. We were preparing music, vocal parts, and poetry (in French) for the upcoming concert. Quite fun, but by the end of the reheasal, we were all pretty tired from all the traveling and scant sleep. The quorum of adults went out for a jovial but so-so meal afterwards. It was also a bit pricey. Curt calls a place like this a "per-diem buster"... a great saying. At least the beer and wine were flowing, which hit the spot after a long day. I had a great chat with Eric, our translator, about Frank Zappa.
3/31/07
Ah, my first real night of sleep on this tour. I slept almost nine hours, and boy did I need it. I felt great when I woke up. I treated myself to a long run along a beautiful canal. There were quite a few other runners there, so it was obviously the place to be. It's always a joy to find a good place to run when you're on the road. Running is also a nice way to sight-see. You take in more than you would on a walk, but you're not going so fast that you miss the scenery. Exercizing on tour can be a challenge, either due to scheduling or location. It's always great when you land a good work-out.
It was another afternoon, thus another rehearsal with the students and kids. The show was coming together nicely, but there were still elements of confusion and chaos that needed to be ironed out. We were getting there... progress, progress.
After the rehearsal Sam, Curt, Roy and I sought out a less expensive restaurant than the previous night. We opted for a Pan-Asian place near the hotel. We were skeptical at first, but it turned out to be quite good. Afterwards we went to a fantastic little place for tea and crepes. So delicious... ah, Paris. I then parted with the guys and took the Metro into the center to see Paris at night. It was really quite stunning, and I could see what all the fuss is about. I zig-zagged back and forth across the Seine for a couple of hours, and eventually took the Metro back to the hotel. When I arrived at my station, there was a heavy police presence, complete with dogs and billy clubs. I was wondering what all this was for, when I realized a concert at the nearby Cite de la Musique had just finished. I surmised that the cops were making sure the nice Parisians had safe passage to their Metro trains through the "dangerous" Arab and black neighborhood. If you ask me, a show of force like that just creates anxiety and tension. No wonder there are problems here. Generally, I don't get the sense that the Paris police interact with local residents like they tend to in the States. They're either around in big numbers or are nowhere to be seen.
Once back in my room, I stayed up listening to a recording of a radio show I had done about a month earlier with Andy Statman's trio. I remember we all had questionable feelings about that performance, so I was initially hesitant to listen. But I jumped in, and lo and behold, most of it sounded great. We played with particularly firey energy, probably because we thought we sounded lousy and were frustrated. There were some sloppy moments which, of course, was all I remembered about the show. But by and large, it was really good, and notably the bass sound was excellent. That made me feel better about it having been broadcast over the airwaves. You just never know what your music sounds like while you're playing it, and perhaps that's a good thing. A fox can't smell his own hole, they say.
4/1/07
Today was the concert day for us and the students. We were curious as to how many parents would attend the show. It seemed obvious to us that they would want to see their children perform, but many of these kids come from pretty rough situations... disenfranchised single parents, drug abuse, prostitution, etc. Needless to say, it was a pretty big day for those involved with the concert.
I got up just in time for breakfast (it closes at 10:00 AM) feeling a little crispy from staying up late the night before listening to music. I took the time to do some blog entries, and went for a short stroll into Pantin. To me it resembles 4th avenue in Brooklyn. It's really not that bad.
Everyone assembled at 2:00 PM at La Dynamo for a run-through of the concert material. It was really sounding pretty cool. The spirit of the 13-year-olds was infectious. The subsequent performance was a huge success, and the kids, teachers, and parents (who showed up) were ecstatic. During the reception, cameras were flashing left and right. The children were really excited. It's nice to think we made at least a small difference in their lives.
That evening, Sotto Voce and the accompanying adult minions were again wined and dined with style. The fare this time was Moroccan. It's always best to "stay with the colonies", in terms of ethnic food, and France had long colonized Morocco. Everyone was excited about getting tangine, which is essentially a stew with beef, lamb, or chicken, and vegetables. Somehow, I had never heard of this dish. I ordered the tangine with lamb. Honestly, I was somewhat disappointed. To me, it wasn't much more than a typical stew served in a clay pot. The wine was a North African red, and while it was nice to try something new, I wasn't crazy about it. My standards had been significantly elevated the past few days. There was also a bottle of Algerian rose floating around, and I really didn't like that one. Oh well, se la vie. I guess it wasn't quite my night. I later opened up a heated philosophical discussion with the other band members about the merits of instrumental music with or without text and/or singing. I didn't put much thought into my words, and nearly got my butt kicked. Even though I felt a little grumpy, I really wasn't in the mood for confrontation. I somehow managed to weasel my way out of the exchange and subsequently ended the evening with the air more or less clear. I was ready to call it a night, feeling a bit broken. I think I was in dire need of playing some challenging music, after all the work with the students the past few days.
4/2/07
Today was the day of the Sotto Voce concert for the Banlieues Bleues Festival. The sun was shining, and I got up on the early side and went for another exhilarating run along the canal. Only this time, instead of heading towards Paris, I went the other way, deeper into Pantin. The canal area became increasingly desolate and run-down the farther I went. I personally didn't feel uncomfortable, but I could see why the area has a bad reputation.
I had a number of things to accomplish before our 3:00 PM sound check. One of which was to shop for some gifts for the folks back home. So off I went into town on the Metro, and strolled around the Forum des Halles area. It was a beautiful day, and everyone was having coffee, beer or lunch outside. I walked around for a couple of hours, and in the process found what I was looking for. I came back to the hotel just in time to depart for our sound check and rehearsal. We arrived to find a really nice performance hall, and just the right size, seating about 400. Also, all the people involved with the production were very helpful and friendly. That makes a big difference when you're on tour.
After a lengthy but much needed sound check and rehearsal, I set to another task that needed to be accomplished... fixing my flight case. One of the hinges had been damaged on the trip over, and it had to be at least nominally repaired before the flight home. The enthusiastic crew at the venue jumped right on it, and did a very good job of rigging it up. That was a load off my mind. I'll still have to repair the case more extensively when I get back to New York, but at least it was okay for now. That thing really gets beat up on plane flights. It's a wonder the bass survives at all.
The band that played before us, led by singer Pyeng Threadgill, sounded great. Their trumpet player, Kevin Louis, is a good friend of mine. It turns out their bass player, Derek (last name?) and I had met before, too. We all had a nice hang together before the show.
Our set finally rolled around, and it was really smokin'. The audience loved it, and they were with us all the way. As I mentioned before, I do a lot of singing with this band, so I really had to stand and deliver. I thought I did a pretty good job. In spite of the wild praise heaped on us during and after the gig, including many compliments for my exemplery bass playing, only one person mentioned my vocals. And, it wasn't even a compliment, per se. It was a festival staff member who said, "So Jim, you sing!". Um, I suppose the jury's out on that one. The other band members seemed to like my vocal contribution, so I'll trust their judgement. Myself aside, the band as a whole did a very spirited and high level show, and we were all pleased with the result. The capacity crowd pretty much went crazy.
There was an interesting and somewhat disheartening story that accompanied tonight's performance. Kristal, our manager in Paris, was a few hours late to the day's proceedings, which was uncharacteristic of her. We found out that on her way to the performance hall that afternoon, she happened upon a young girl who had been left alone at a playground. Kristal, a mother herself, knew something wasn't right. She approached the girl, and asked her where her family was. The girl said her mother had left her there while she went off to buy drugs and work as a protitute. Kristal then walked the girl home to her housing project, and to her grandmother, who also lived in their apartment. Apparently, the grandmother is the one who holds the family together, but she's away much of the time. The grandmother said the girl was often dragged around at night by the mother to various drug deals and protitution jobs. The little girl apparently slept most days, and often missed school because she couldn't stay awake, even though she loved being at school. Kristal stressed to the grandmother that she shouldn't leave the daughter with the mother, and to call social services if they ever need help. In France, these programs are reasonably well funded, but many people don't know about them. Anyway, it was quite a story to hear when Kristal finally arrived. It made our version of "Motherless Child" take on quite a special significance.
As all the post-show revelry was winding down, I had a nice conversation with a new acquaintence named Adrien who came to the show. He is a young and aspiring guitarist, and we met when he attended an Andy Statman Trio concert in Antwerp last November. He's very excited about going to Berklee or some other American music school some day. I remember that feeling well. I gave him lots of encouragement, and we parted in hopes that I would see him soon in New York.
The band eventually went back to the hotel to pack and to sleep for a few hours before early flight home the next morning. In typical fashion, it took me some time to unwind, so I stayed up for a while doing blog entries and sipping a beer. I finally turned in at 2:00 AM, with the alarm set for 5:00. Yet another not-so-restful night of sleep in a musician's life.
4/3/07
We all assembled and sleepily loaded up the van in the dark at 5:45 AM. I had quickly checked out at the front desk, thinking there was no reason to hang around, since I hadn't activated my phone or used the mini-bar. Nonetheless, Sam came out and relayed to me that I owed the hotel money. I was in no mood to be hassled, so I stormed back in demanding an explanation. The not-so-friendly desk clerk handed me a bill for €67, but there was no itemization on it. Just short of completely losing my cool, I told the desk clerk that I hadn't used anything in the room, and that I didn't owe them anything. He looked at the bill for a moment, shrugged his shoulders, and then discarded it, saying I was free to go. Fancy that. I suspect this hotel in is the business of creating false charges in hopes of collecting from an unsuspecting foreign guest. This was not what I would call honest business. I intend to tell the festival staff about this little incident.
Now a word about the French. They have a reputation for being hostile to visitors, and to a small degree it's true. Although, I found most people to be very personable, and everyone seemed to appreciate my attempts to speak French to them. In my interactions with several individuals, however, the conversation became combative at the slightest hint of disagreement, but it just as quickly returned to being congenial as soon as the problem was solved. This is typically Latin, and typically Mediterranian. There was, however, a general feeling that some people just didn't want to be bothered with helping you, even if it's their job. This is typically French. The exception was the festival staff, who were bending over backwards for us. They really love music in France. The hotel front desk staff, on the other hand, with the exception of one very nice woman, left something to be desired.
It was busy but not too hectic at CDG airport at 6:30 AM, and like before, the Air France staff proved to be courteous and helpful each step of the way. Again I had to pay for the bass oversize at a separate counter, which was somewhat time consuming, but not too much of a hassle. The excess baggage cost €150 coming back, and despite my mild protest, I couldn't convince Air France to give us a break on the exchange rate. This was not a serious problem, however, since it was still within the budget constraints.
The flight home was maybe 60% full, and I attributed that to it being the first day of Passover. Typically, there would be a number of orthodox Jews on a European flight, but there were none today. I had two seats to myself, and plenty of room to stretch out. We also had favorable Easterly winds, so we made the trip from Paris to New York in a speedy 6 1/2 hours. This being such an early flight, we landed at 10:00 AM New York time. Customs and baggage at JFK were easy, except that my suitcase didn't make it on our flight. The ever-present Air France baggage personnel looked up the code number and assured me that it would be on the next flight, and that it would be delivered to my house. At least the bass arrived unscathed. My suitcase finally showed up at 7:30 the next morning. All's well that ends well.
NB: En route to Paris, I sat next to a nice French lady, probably in her mid 60's, who lives in the US and was traveling home to France to visit relatives. En route back to New York, I sat next to a nice American lady, also in her mid 60's, who lives in France and was herself traveling home to the US to visit relatives. They even resembled one another.
NB2: "Sotto Voce" is a musical direction which literally translates to "under the voice". I suspect this group's use of the term refers to its undercurrent of spoken word that weaves through the music, and the layering of poetry, lyrics, and instrumental music.
NB3: A "human beatbox" is a percussionist who creates drum and other percussive sounds vocally, without the use of an instrument. The "beatbox chorus" was a group of roughly 20 young human beatboxes performing in unison.
NB4: The festival we played in Paris is called Banlieues Bleues, which means "suburb blues". This doesn't necessarily refer to the recent troubles in the Paris suburbs, because this is the 18th year of the festival (it continues through mid-May). The name merely references the location, with a hint at the music involved. There were festival performance locations throughout the suburbs, not just in our area of Pantin. Coincidentally, there is an interesting article about the Paris "banlieues" in the April 15th New York Times magazine.
