Things have been slow at blog headquarters, but they're about to pick up. I'm preparing a post on Mac McKenzie's Cape Town (South Africa) Goema Orchestra, a fascinating experiment in blending local folk and popular music with western classical music and jazz. I'm also writing about South African photographer Constance Stuart Larrabee's beautiful, but troubling 1940s images from the Bo-Kaap district of Cape Town. Stay tuned for all that. Of course, I've also been spending my weekends at various race tracks.
A couple of weeks ago, I was hanging out at the Capitol Offense 24 Hours of Lemons, at West Virginia's Summit Point Motorsports Park. What's the 24 Hours of Lemons, you ask? You could say that it's part circus, part serious endurance racing, and entirely fun.
The overall winner was the 1998 Mercedes S500 of the Opulence We Has It team. [All photos copyright John Edwin Mason, 2011. Click on any photo to see a larger version.]
More concretely, the 24 Hours of Lemons is a national racing circuit for cars that have been bought and prepared for the track for $500 or less. That sounds impossible, I know, but 102 teams pulled it off and hauled their cars to Summit Point for the race. (I should mention that brakes, tires, and safety equipment, such as roll cages, are exempted from the $500 limit.)
Booby Prize Racing's "Save the Yellow Ducks" 1996 Nissan 200SX.
I'd read about Lemons in various car and racing magazines (it's been generating a fair amount of press), but this was my first time at one of the races. I figured that I was in for a treat, and I was right. The people were great, the cars were fast (sorta) and funny (mostly), and there were a lot of photos to make.
The 1987 Audi 4000 CS of Rally Baby Racing,
You can read more about the race, the people, and the cars (and see many, many more photos), here, on my racing blog.
Tonight, in Charlottesville, the Youth Orchestras of Central Virginia will perform the premiere of composer John D'earth'sEphemera, a hauntingly beautiful suite for orchestra and voice. The piece revolves around three poems by D'earth's late brother, Paul Smyth. The poems, he says, "deal with exuberant living, loving, and surviving in a world of inevitable change and loss." They describe "the beauty inherent in life’s inevitable fragility, and celebrat[e] the impulse to live and thrive.....” (You can find ticket information, here.)
Veronica Swift O'Brien rehearsing John D'earth's Ephemera, 16 June 2011. (All photos copyright John Edwin Mason, 2011.)
When the Youth Orchestras asked me to document a couple of the rehearsals, there was no doubt that I'd say "Yes." D'earth, who directs the University of Virginia's Jazz Ensemble, has been on a creative roll, lately. Last February, the Jazz Ensemble and the Free Bridge Quintet premiered his piece "Green Chemistry," an event that attracted national attention. (I wrote about it here and here.)
Conductor Charles West leads a rehearsal of Ephemera, 16 June 2011.
Ephemera will surprise people who are expecting something loud, fast, and "jazzy." This is contemplative music, quiet and moving. Although the underlying rhythms and harmonies certainly draw on the musical vocabulary of jazz -- especially Miles Davis in his more reflective moods -- the sound of the piece also owes a lot to classical and folk music. I'm guessing that many people in the audience, tonight, will hear echoes of Aaron Copland.
Veronica Swift O'Brien and the orchestra in rehearsal, 16 June 2011.
Ephemera isn't easy; it would challenge any adult orchestra. The Youth Orchestras of Central Virginia are lucky to have Charles West, on the podium, and Veronica Swift O'Brien, as the vocal soloist. West, a virtuoso clarinetist as well as a gifted conductor, is a professor of music at Virginia Commonwealth University. Despite her youth (she'll be a high school senior, next year), Veronica is already an experienced jazz singer, having performed at Blues Alley, in Washington, D.C., and at Dizzy's Club Coca Cola, at Lincoln Center in New York. She's even released a couple of CDs..
John D'earth and Charles West consult the score to Ephemera, 16 June 2011.
The interplay between the words of Smyth's poems and D'earth's music is sublime. The effect is wonderfully tender.
John D'earth offers some comments to the orchestra, while rehearsing Ephemera, 16 June 2011.
It was easy to tell that the members of the orchestra was paying attention to what D'earth had to say. He pushed them, encouraged them, challenged them, and praised them. And they responded.
Violinists Frank Wu and Guillaume Bailey, rehearsing Ephemera, 16 June 2011.
Veronica's role is central to the piece -- after all, she sings the poems -- but she isn't the only soloist. Frank Wu and Guillaume Bailey play violin solos that owe more to folk or even bluegrass than to jazz. On the other hand, solos by Emily Kuhn, trumpet, Paige Rammelkamp, sax, Samantha Marshall, flute, and Andrew LaParade, trombone, are right in the jazz pocket.
A couple of weeks ago, I dusted off my favorite old cameras and headed up US 29 to Old Dominion Speedway, in Manassas, Virginia, for Bug Out 69. It was part of my never-ending rambling through the more obscure byways of American car culture.
I also figured that it would a lot of fun. What could be better than spending the day with hundreds of slightly wacky Volkswagen collectors, restorers, and racers from up and down the eastern seaboard and beyond? Nothing that I could think of.
It's not a Bug, but it sure is pretty, in a rat rod kind of way. Bug Out 69, Manassas, Virginia, 29 May 2011. (Photo copyright John Edwin Mason, 2011. Click on the image to see a much larger version.)
You can read the rest of the story and see many more of photos of classic VWs, hot rod VWs, drag racing VWs, their proud owners, and the Miss Bug Out pagent(!), on my racing blog, here.
Note: Ekapa, Greg Davids, Mike Campbell, Mike Rossi, and Dave Ledbetter have offered their memories of Basil. Please scroll down to read them.
Basil Moses, perhaps the finest jazz bassist that South Africa has ever produced, died on Sunday morning, after a long battle with cancer and the effects of a series of strokes. He was 70 years old. The family that he leaves behind includes his brother, Cliffie, a guitarist, singer, and bandleader, who was his closest musical collaborator. (You can read a brief obituary, here.)
Basil was usually a sideman and almost never the star, but what an amazing sideman he was. The musical foundation that he laid down with his bass was as steady as a rock. When he soloed, he combined grace and technical brilliance, a cascade of notes with a wonderful melodic sensibility.
I also like this video of Basil playing with Richard Ceasar (piano) and Ivan Bell (drums) at the Green Dolphin, the venerable Cape Town jazz club which recently shut its doors. It begins with Basil in mid-solo. Cape Town loves its smooth jazz. I'm not sure that Basil did, but he sure played the heck out of it.
I was lucky enough to have met Basil about a decade ago, just as I began my research into Cape Town's musical cultures. We became good friends, something that allowed me to spend several hours, one long summer afternoon, talking to him and Cliffie about their lives and careers. I'll have much more to say about Basil in a few days. For the moment, I want to note the passing of a wonderful man and musician.
Update, 7 June 2011: I just received word that Basil's funeral will be held on Friday, June 10th, at the Anglican church of St. Mark the Evangelist, in Athone (Cape Town), at 9:00 in the morning.
* * *
Ekapa just left this comment. It deserves a place in the body of this post:
Yes, Basil had his reservations about international smooth jazz, the Kenny G type (he said he liked some local stuff which he regarded as fusion), but like a lot of good musicians in Cape Town, he was a practical man. In a conversation I had with him a few years ago he in essence said that he loved his audience and that he loved to play music, and if his audience wanted smooth jazz he was going to give them the best smooth jazz there was. Rest easy chief.
Greg Davids, a producer and a presenter on Cape Town's Fine Music Radio, offers this beautiful remembrance:
I had a front row seat to Basil Moses's musical might for many of my formative years, he was my first jazz hero. Basil was a mentor from the time of my being a bedazzled witness to the making of the Four Sounds only recording and for which my Dad, Robert Davids was the co- producer along with Ivan Weir. The band for the recording included Cliffie Moses on guitar and vocals, Basil on Bass, Richard Schilder on piano, Billy Dollie on drums and rounding off the section was an Italian American, Silvio with Sicilian connections and in hiding in SA on flute. His surname was never revealed in the album liner notes. I attended some rehearsals and the legendary album photo shoot that took place on a Sunday morning just down the road from our and the Moses homes. The location was the 7 Steps in District Six. After the shoot, a kind Lady who owned the house adjacent to the steps invited the crew and band in for tea and koeksisters and I acquired my first distaste for milk in tea and my first sweet tooth for Cape Malay confectionary!
Robert Davids composed two tunes on the album, Katrina and Beverley both sung by Cliffie Moses, one of the most under appreciated jazz vocalists and guitarists in this country. My uncle Stan Davids designed the album cover and another uncle, Bobby May was the album photographer. Basil Moses contributed the tunes 7 Steps and Down from Slavery, Richard Schilder, the pianist on the date composed the balance of music. Basil and Cliffie Moses were the quintessential jazz muso's for this 4 year old but also for many of our very finest jazz guitarists and bassists that have risen in their wake.
Through the years Basil guided my earliest knowledge of the form, selflessly conducting lessons on jazz and letting me into his world via deep conversations about favourite musicians like Bill Evans and Scott Lafaro and pin sharp analysis on Shorter compositions or Hancock phrasing. It was to Basil that I went to first, armed with a cassette of Jaco Pastorius music, what followed was hours in blissful bass world. Often something I would play him would lead to him becoming tearful and then me too. These impromptu meetings all took place at Bonds clothing stores, first in Claremont, then in Kenilworth Centre Cape Town and where Basil secured my first real casual earning job as a student. The money was not great, in fact my travel costs left just enough for a coke and pie but the music lessons were priceless. The other platform for ingesting this giant’s musicality was with him as member of both the Four Sounds and Henry February’s bands which performed at clubs like the Five 2 Four jazz club. All of the jazz standards of the day by Parker, Miles, Monk and Evans were performed by talent that could easily of been deputies for the original musicians performing in those bands. Basil’s strong hands, bold statements and perfect intonation summonsed the bass brigade seated in the audience to attention one Saturday after another. He cut through the front line of Mankunku and brothers Ngcukana to sway, swing and soiree us into bass heaven. Basil was a good guitarist as well with that most valuable asset, a great feel. I was enamored by Basil's big sound on bass, something he achieved on both Fender and the double basses. To me, he was a writer, a Walt Whitman, a James Baldwin. He wove beautiful lines into the music and told wonderful tales, his use of glissando was his poetic license. I remember when he decided to stop walking on the bass, a very conscious decision but it never stopped him from swinging. His playing was solid with a great sense of time. When Basil soloed a presence emerged, one found in great leaders, he spoke in a way that captured your attention, his tone was firm but gentle. Basil Moses was our Master of the subterranean and Captain of the 4 strings.
Mike Campbell, a superb bassist and a professor at the University of Cape Town's South African College of Music, left this comment:
I knew Basil for many years, since the 60s actually. We never crossed paths on the stand much, both being bassists, but I always loved the way he played and will remember him with much admiration and respect. He played bass the way it should be, with passion and total commitment to the music, as if every note was the last he would ever play. I hope he's with Jimmy Blanton and Ray Brown now, because they deserve his company.
A comment from Mike Rossi, jazz saxophonist, composer, and professor at the University of Cape Town's South African College of Music:
Basil was not only a great musician but a great human spirit. His energy was contagious, he made you play; he never went through the motions. It was always a joy to play with him especially when playing material not often heard in Cape Town. He knew all the tunes, changes and sure helped a bunch of less experienced pianists along the musical path.
We will miss you Basil however, the music and that smiling persona you left us will always remain.
From Dave Ledbetter, pianist, guitarist, bandleader, and composer:
I played duo , trio , quartet and quintet music with Basil on guitar or piano for over twenty years and what a time we had. We never once had a bad gig. Instead we had an absolute ball creating wonderful music effortlessly and without fear.
I miss him a lot and on the bandstand most of all. I would never need to discuss what we would play and in fact would often just play one song into the next. When we played with Kevin Gibson (which was a lot) I would just start and Basil would hear immediately and respond like he had been playing that song that way his whole life. What a giant!
We would also as a rule try not to play the same song the same way or in the same key more than once. Basil's musicality was such that one could just do this on the fly. He loved that on the edge approach to the music so much. His eyes would light up , we would both smile and he would just dig deep and find that place every time.
There are not too many musicians that one can say one has that rappore with in a lifetime. Basil was certainly one of those key figures to me and too many I am sure. I am eternally grateful for the love and support he showed me as both friend and musician over the years. I wrote a Blues for him which always reminds me of him called, "Blues for Basil," which he used to love playing. I feel really so blessed to have been able to play with him so often and in terms of swing... he was King! A beautiful gentle soul with the sweetest of hearts and a smile that lit up a room.
CLAW? What heck is that? Well, the initials stand for Collective of Lady Arm Wrestlers, but that really isn't the answer.
What you need to know about CLAW is that it's part sport, mostly theater, and entirely hip. The idea of getting a bunch of wacky women together to arm wrestle for charity came together in Charlottesville, Virginia, several years ago. In the last couple of years, it's been spreading across the country, and the new shtick that Lady Wrestlers have been coming up with elsewhere is spectacular.
My friend, Billy Hunt, and Brian Wimer, his comrade in arms, are documenting the CLAW phenomenon in their film Claw -- Collective of Lady Arm Wrestlers. Right now, they're raising money on Kickstarter to finish it, and they need your help. With a week left to go, they're still looking for a few more pledges to reach their goal of $5,000.00. At that point, funding will be secure.
I'm backing the project, and I hope you will, too.
By the way, if you're coming to Charlottesville for Look3, the Festival of the Photograph, you'll be able to check out some of Billy's CLAW photos at Cafe Cubano, right on the downtown pedestrian mall (which is where most of Look3's activities happen).
* * *
PS If you're seeing a big blank white space in the middle of this post, you're probably using IE. Try switching to another browser. For some reason, IE doesn't like Kickstarter videos. Or you can just click on the link, that will take you to the Kickstater website.
Recent Comments