The majority of the crowd was there to see the headliners, but there were definitely some loyal Hunger Mountain Boys fans there who gave a great big cheer when guitarist Kip Beacco introduced the band after the second song. Even for those who weren’t there specifically to see The Hunger Mountain Boys, the band’s hearty bluegrassy goodness fired up the crowd. Originally a duo of Kip Beacco and Teddy Weber, The Hunger Mountain Boys later added Matt Downing on upright bass and they continued to tour, record, and gain popularity in the bluegrass world both among general listeners and critics alike. Then, when Kip’s wife had a baby he took some time off and Adam Tanner (who has played with The Crooked Jades and The Twilight Broadcasters) stepped in for a while before Kip returned. The trio eventually disbanded, much to the dismay of many bluegrass fans both in the United States and the UK, where the band had a big following. This time around it was Kip and Matt, joined by Aaron Jonah Lewis  (who used to play with the band Special Ed and the Shortbus, which later became The Hot Seats) on fiddle and banjo. Throughout the band’s set the musicians performed around one mic, playing a lot of old Hunger Mountain Boy originals along with a cover of Bob Wills’ “That Gal Is Killin Me” and a song written by Aaron Jonah Lewis called “Take Me Back To Tennessee.” The musicians also sang the old traditional “Camp A Little While In The Wilderness” a capella, during which Lewis held his banjo up flat below their mouths, creating a natural reverb that complemented their beautiful three-part harmonies. Some of my fondest memories of live bluegrass music are of The Hunger Mountain Boys, so it was really great to see them again — and sounding almost as good as they left off (hey, Aaron Jonah Lewis is great but there’s no replacing Teddy Weber. Interestingly, Weber is now a member of The Wiyos, a band that actually has two random connections to The Felice Brothers: first, The Wiyos opened for Bob Dylan when he toured with Willie Nelson and John Mellencamp a few years ago, and The Felice Brothers have drawn inumerable comparisons to Dylan and The Band. Second, both The Wiyos and The Felice Brothers played at a Levon Helm Midnight Ramble. There is also a random connection between The Hunger Mountain Boys and The Felice Brothers in that the latter’s current drummer, Dave, used to work at The Rosendale Cafe. The Hunger Mountain Boys frequently played at the venue, so Dave recognized Matt and Kip as soon as he saw them). In any case, The Hunger Mountain Boys is a terrific band, and the current trio is going to be recording some songs, which I can’t wait to hear.

Although The Felice Brothers’ style is quite different from that of The Hunger Mountain Boys, the former did start out heavily influenced by the likes of Woody Guthrie, Johnny Cash, Leadbelly, and The Carter Family. At the earliest Felice Brother shows I can remember, back when they played restaurants and bars where no one paid much attention to the four scrawny fellas enthusiastically belting out songs, their sets often included covers of old folk and blues songs. In fact, at the first show I ever attended the band closed the night with Woody Guthrie’s “This Land Is Your Land.” Although The Felice Brothers’ sound has changed and evolved greatly over the years, it still largely retains those traditional roots. The band has even been re-introducing some of its earlier, folksier songs back into its repertoire — like the heartfelt “Got What I Need” sung by James, or the quiet ballad “Her Eyes Dart Round” – and have added songs like ”Cumberland Gap” (an old folk song made popular by Woody Guthrie, who recorded it during his Folkways sessions in the 40s) and “Tennessee Border” by Hank Williams. In fact, after an epic series of misfortunate events which you can read about here, The Felice Brothers were inspired to record an album (which both “Her Eyes Dart Round” and Cumberland Gap” are on) comprised of eight traditional folk songs and twelve originals in the same vein, available exclusively online. Of course, The Felice Brothers also know how to rock a house, which they did at Helsinki. There was a long break between bands, and before The Felice Brothers went on the anticipation in the room was intense. When the band finally came out, the audience’s energy was unleashed in full as the musicians opened with “Fire At The Pageant” off their latest ”physical” album, Celebration, Florida. From there the band launched into the multi-dimensional and mature (both in regards to the complexity of the music as well as the content of the song) ”Honda Civic,” also on Celebration, Florida , before switching things up and playing some folksier material, including ”Cumberland Gap,” “Tennessee Border,” and the Felice Brothers’ original, “Take This Bread.” The audience started singing along during that last one, and Simone Felice joined his brothers and former bandmates on stage with a washboard in hand. (Simone left The Felice Brothers to form a band called The Duke & The King, and has played with Mumford & Sons. He also frequently performs solo, and will be playing an intimate show at Club Helsinki on Dec. 7th with a few friends, including Simi Stone, his former bandmate from The Duke & The King). Simone stayed on stage to sing “Show Me Mercy,” then later came back out to play washboard during the fan favorite “Whisky In My Whisky.”

In the middle of the band’s set Ian noticed a couple standing on the side of the stage. The woman was wearing a wedding gown and Ian said to her, ‘That’s a pretty dress.” It was soon learned that the couple had just gotten married that day and had their reception upstairs in the ballroom at Club Helsinki. The band invited them onstage, asked their names, and introduced them to the crowd. After wishing them a long life of happiness and giving them hugs, The Felice Brothers dedicated ”Her Eyes Dart Round” to the newlyweds, who walked off stage and slow-danced on the side. After that the band picked things up again and continued to play an energetic set, jumping and stomping on stage. At the end of their show the audience did the same, yelling for an encore, and the band came back out to play “Marie” and “Helen Fry,” the latter of which Simone hopped on drums for. After leaving the stage for a second time, the band came out again after a prolonged absence – during which the crowd chanted “One more song! One more song!” — to end the night with “Frankie’s Gun” and, finally, “Glory Glory.” The crowd clapped and sang along, and the bride and groom came back on stage to dance and sing. I later learned from the manager of Club Helsinki that they’re huge fans of The Felice Brothers and planned their wedding reception at the club as soon as they found out that the band was playing there that night, so that must have been extra special for them. As for the rest of us, it was special anyway. There was a distinct sense of comfort and friendship among the audience and band, and it was a hometown show that felt like just that — home.

A full night of folk music was scheduled, with local musicians Liv Carrow (who performs solo and with the band Pocatello) and a girl named Pat from the band Nature Films both playing solo sets to open. Also performing was Evan Levine, who used to live in Hudson but currently resides in PA. Unfortunately, I missed the first two performers, but I did make it in time to catch Levine, who was great.  He opened with Mississippi John Hurt’s “Make Me A Pallet,” and his set included classics like “I’m In The Mood For Love,” “Bei Mir Bist du Schoen,” and “I Can’t Give You Anything But Love.” Although Levine’s musical style is unique, it is undeniably inspired by musicians of the Depression era, and when listening one easily gets lost in the songs and forgets that it is, in fact, the 21st century. Towards the end of his set Levine was joined by a local jazz flutist who happens to be an old friend of his, Stuart Quimby. Levine is very much a free spirit musically speaking, and he likes to play around with time signatures as it suits him, creating a sense of spontaneity that’s unusual and refreshing but could also be hard to follow. Quimby did an amazing job, however, and watching the two converse on guitar and flute was exciting, especially given the high caliber of each musician.

Levine actually co-produced The Howling Kettles’ new album with the band (he did the recording, mixing, and engineering), and after playing his own set I was delighted that he also played on upright bass with Moss and Emmer for the band’s set. Throughout the evening all of the performers played without amplification, the dim lights casting a beautiful glow on the smiling faces of those sitting at the bar or scattered on the floor. The Howling Kettles also played unamplified, but as soon as the band’s first song was over no one was left sitting on the floor. Instead, people stood or danced, and the band even led an impromptu dance lesson of sorts, leading some contra dance steps. To close their set, the musicians played a cover of “Ida Red” – a traditional song made famous by bands such as Bob Wills, Uncle Earl, and Asleep at the Wheel — and The Howling Kettles’ version of it was a hell-raising barn-burner. The audience joined hands in a circle and danced around the musicians who clustered in a trio in the middle of the floor, and I can’t think of a better way to have ended the night.

As for the band’s new album, it is more fully developed than the previous one, a reflection of the band’s evolving and maturing sound. It’s got a little of everything you would want from a bluegrass/folk/roots music album: dance-inspiring heel-kicking songs like the band’s take on “Skip To My Lou,” which opens the album; hearty, full-bodied songs like “All The Way Left”; droning, slide-ridden Appalachian-inspired fiddle tunes like “Dry ‘N Dusty” (one of my personal favorites on the album); banjo-led ballads like “Badly Bent,” which also features some really nice vocal harmonies and is another favorite of mine; the beautiful “Wolves “A Howlin’”, which opens gently with banjo and vocals before double-stringed fiddle joins in; covers of classics like “Poor Liza Jane,” “Hesitation Blues,” “John Hardy,” and “St. James Infirmary”; and the gentle lullaby-like “Rock That Cradle” that closes the album. If you’re looking for the polished, newgrass music that’s so prevalent today, this isn’t the band for you. However, if you’re looking for a young generation’s take on authentic bluegrass, folk, and blues music with a whole lot of spirit and a whole lot of fun, The Howling Kettles are a sure bet. Keep up with this young duo here!

Kicking off the music on Friday night were Richard Buckner and The Felice Brothers – both local acts, Buckner being from Kingston and The Felice Brothers living in the Rosendale/New Paltz area – who played a co-bill at The Old Dutch Church on Wall Street. It’s a beautiful building with a magnificent arched ceiling, a wall paneled with stunning stained glass above the alter which the musicians played in front of, and phenomenal acoustics. Although Richard Buckner is a Kingston resident, he tours overseas a lot and doesn’t play in the Hudson Valley very much. I love his music and was thrilled to find out he was playing at O+, but I talked to many music-lovers from Kingston who had no idea who he was or that he lives there. After his set at the fully packed venue, however, I have a feeling that’s going to change. A burly guy with a long beard and even longer hair, Buckner is coarse around the edges with a well-worn attitude about him. It comes as a suprise, then, to hear a clear and powerful, yet disarmingly tender voice come from such a big, if not a little unruly, presence. Buckner was roaming around before his set but people just ignored him, probably because most didn’t even know he was the one playing, but as soon as he started they were captivated. The low-key musician told the audience that he bought the guitar he was playing at the Salvation Army down the street and that he was excited to have gotten $700 worth of dental work done at the festival that morning but skipped over the mental health booth, which he probably should have stopped at, drawing laughs. Buckner’s ironic, wise-cracking, dry-humored personality between songs is in contrast to the songs, which are incredibly intelligent, witty, poignant and sometimes devastating in an incredibly artful and prolific way. His style of writing and singing is really unique, and I can’t say enought great things about this completely underrated musician and poet of our time. Playing with him at O+ Festival was Otto Hauser, a fantastic drummer who lives in Hudson. (Hauser was also playing the next night in the same venue with his drum duo, “The Anders Griffen/Otto Hauser Drum Deluge.” I’ve seen the two drummers before and was blown away, so it was a performance I was very sorry to miss — especially because of how great the two drum sets must have sounded in the acoustics of the church.)

After Richard Buckner and Otto Hauser’s set, The Felice Brothers came onstage amongst cheers from the crowd. Dave Turbville left the the band and the new drummer, who has known Farley for a while, is also named Dave. As for the rest of the musicians, they switched it up during the show, with James on either accordion or piano, Ian on guitar or piano, Farley on fiddle or guitar, and Christmas on bass. They played a stripped down acoustic-electric set, performing a lot of the country and bluegrass covers I haven’t heard them bust out in years as well as a mix of new and old originals, and the band sounded really great. Although I have liked every album The Felice Brothers has released, there’s something indescribably comforting about the band’s down-home early style and music. Highlights of the night at O+ included a warm country cover of Hank Williams’ “Tennessee Border,” a rousing version of Reverend Gary Davis’ “Where’d You Get Your Liquor From,” and a rollicking cover of the Appalachian folk song made popular by Woody Guthrie, “Cumberland Gap,” that got the crowd dancing in the aisles. The set also included touching renditions of The Felice Brothers’ early originals “Trouble Been Hard,” “Got What I Need,” and ”Her Eyes Dart Round” (see a much younger version of the band playing that song here), as well as some swingin’ songs like the more recent ”Honda Civic,” “Frankie’s Gun,” and “Run Chicken Run.” Sometimes The Felice Brothers’ shows can get a bit wild and out of control, both on the part of the audience and the musicians. I’ve been to concerts where members of the audience were drunk, rowdy, and rude, and the band’s playing wasn’t that great. However, the performance at O+ was really special and I have to wonder if the fact that there wasn’t any alcohol being served played a role. In any case, the musicians look so darn happy to be doing what they’re doing, and although they may be in their mid- to late-twenties they still retain a distinctly goofy boyishness and have an unassuming presence on-stage. On a bad night they might be a little bit of a mess, but on a good night The Felice Brothers are pure magic. On Friday, it was the latter.

Le Quatuor Ebène (The Ebène Quartet) is a dynamic group of young musicians utterly devoted to their artistry. In my book, the Quatour Ebène is one of the top three string quartets in the world. While some quartets are incredibly adept at one particular era or style — for example, the Baroque period (c. 1700-1850), the Classical period (c. 1750-1830) or the Romantic era (mid-1800s to early 1900s) – the Quatour Ebène’s true brilliance lies in its ability to take on any style within the classical genre and play it equally fantastically.

And the critics have taken note.

The quartet has received numerous glowing reviews in prestigious publications such as the New York Times and Gramophone, winning plenty of awards along the way. Not content within one genre, however, the members of the quartet are also avid and proficient jazz musicians. This is evidenced by the quartet’s jazz and pop album “Fiction,” which includes a wide array of covers, including music of The Beatles, Miles Davis, Chick Corea, and the theme song from the film Pulp Fiction. Concert-goers at Maverick Concerts in Woodstock, NY got to hear both sides of the Quatour Ebène last week, when the group gave a jazz concert on Saturday evening followed by a classical concert on Sunday afternoon.

On Saturday, the musicians played tunes from “Fiction,” and their playing was immensely passionate and vibrant. In between incredible solos with an inspired and improvisatory feel, the musicians also utilized their instruments in non-traditional ways; Raphaël plucked his cello like an upright bass, Gabriel and Matthieu tapped their instruments creating percussive sounds, and at times Pierre even tapped his metal music stand with his bow, evoking the sound of a cymbal. The quartet’s playing was truly thrilling, and after each piece the musicians had barely played the last note when the audience broke into applause. Highlights included “Mirsirlou” from Pulp Fiction, Miles Davis’ “Nothing Personal,” Wayne Shorter’s “Footprints,” a fiery Piazzolla tango, and a surprise encore of the quartet singing “Someday My Prince Will Come” in French. The musicians’ vocals are just as good as their playing, and the gorgeous four-part harmonies were accompanied by a fantastic musical arrangement of the grand, sweeping waltz.

On Sunday, the quartet played Mozart’s Divertimento in F Major, K.138, Fauré’s String Quartet in E Minor, Op. 121, and Tchaikovsky’s String Quartet No. 1 in D Major, Op. 11. The Mozart was darling and flirty, at times with a hint of melancholy, and the Quatour Ebène did a marvellous job of bringing the charming music alive with sensitivity and sophistication. As Maverick music director Alexander Platt stated of the musicians, “they find a thousand more surprises in the music than I ever thought possible.” The musicians did a similarly excellent job of playing the Fauré quartet, which was based on sketches from an earlier, unfinished violin concerto by the composer. Before the concert, first violinist Pierre joked to me that he hoped the Quatour Ebène wouldn’t put people to sleep with the music, which he said was “special.” It certainly doesn’t follow conventional structure, for the piece is somewhat shapeless and shifts form throughout, meandering through the pages of music. Everyone was captivated by the quartet’s playing, however, and if the concert hall was extremely quiet it was because the audience was in awe at the beauty and solemnity of the piece, which contains haunting melodies and an overwhelming sadness — until the last movement, anyway, which is quite animated and has multiple textures created by pizzicato (plucked), staccato notes, and legato passages. The Tchaikovsky string quartet the Quatour Ebène played was his first of three, and a spectacular one at that. The third movement in particular is my favorite, which features a repetitive theme, sharp contrasts in dynamics, and forceful, dramatic music.

The musicians of the Quatour Ebène have a great ability to discern precisely what each piece or composer requires in order to play the music to its full potential, and their level of both skill and heart is astounding. The quartet’s albums are undeniably superb, but they do not do justice to the enthusiasm and energy the musicians bring to live performances. If you have the opportunity to see the Quatour Ebène, don’t miss it!

I had a chance to catch up with three of the musicians for the following interview before Sunday’s concert.

The Quatour Ebène is:
Pierre Colombet, violin.
Gabriel Le Magadure, violin.
Mathieu Herzog, viola.
Raphaël Merlin, cello.

How long have you been together?

GLM: It will be thirteen years in September.

Did you meet in college?

GLM: At music school in Paris, yes, at the conservatory. We are not from Paris, but we met in Paris for studies and continued.

The quartet is based in Paris, though?

RM: Yes.

Recently there has been a lot of press about the London Olympics, as I’m sure you know, and I read that many of the athletes’ spouses and significant others are similarly athletes. I know that Pierre’s wife, Akiko Yamamoto, is a pianist – she actually recorded Brahms’ Piano Quintet in F Minor with Quatour Ebene. What about the rest of you guys? Are your wives or girlfriends musicians?

GLM: Mine is a pianist, yes. A solo player.

Do you find it’s helpful to have someone else who knows the industry, and how does that work with scheduling?

GLM: The schedule is very difficult that we share together. It’s quite impossible. I mean, we have a maximum of two weeks holidays together a year, but most of the time when I am on holiday she is not and I follow her playing concerts, and then she does the same for me. We just try to be together.

Raphael, last night you mentioned that three of you are now fathers. How has that affected your scheduling, as far as touring goes?

MH: For the moment, it has affected nothing.

RM:  But I think we have a different perspective of the real necessities of being in a quartet together. We make relation with the time we would prefer to spend with children so we try to reduce the time with the quartet, which every quartet growing up knows. This first period you have to get a real vision and sound, and a system in order to allow every situation to be stable. And then, when we become adults with private lives asking more, demanding more time, then we have to make compromises. Probably we’ll reduce a little bit of our touring, but it’s a big question.

Do you think as you’ve gotten older and more mature together as a quartet, it requires less time because you know each other better as musicians?

MH: Yes.

GLM: Sure.

RM: And we have different methods to practice and to spare some time.

MH: Or to not practice… (laughs)

RM: (laughs) Or sometimes we can also just stay home and, you know, do nothing.

How has becoming parents, which is a pretty big life event, affected your playing? Does it inspire you differently?

MH: I don’t think it has affected in any way how we play. When you play it’s not only inspiration, it’s work, practicing… Of course the first day, or the first week, maybe, but after that you’re a father and you don’t think about your child all the time when you’re onstage. So, the emotion can come without emotion. The emotion is in the music, not especially in your heart, or in your stomach, or somewhere. So actually, I think when we are parents, we are parents. That’s another step of life, and we have a job which is playing music in a string quartet, enjoying music and giving pleasure to the people it we can.

You guys have immense sensitivity to one another’s timing and phrasing. You seem to understand each other, and breathe at the same moments. Does that come from practice alone or is that partly because you guys connect so well as friends?

MH: It’s always practicing.

RM: Practicing, yeah, rehearsing.

You play classical, jazz, pop, there’s even a little bit of rock elements to some of your music. Is there a particular style you have an affinity for, or that you enjoy playing the most?

MH: It depends on which of us it is. Raphael prefers jazz, pure jazz if I may. We [gesturing to Gabriel] prefer maybe pop/rock, and Pierre enjoys everything. I love American song music, for example. Maybe  I’m also the one who loves not especially the tango but bossa nova more, this kind of thing. And that’s why you have all these influences–

RM: [interrupts] Inside the arrangements.

MH: — inside the quartet, inside the concerts. It’s like a basket. Everyone puts some music in it, and after that, something will come out of the basket and it’s music from Quatuor Ebène.

Have you ever considered Celtic music?

GLM: I did when I was alone, when I was younger. But I never put this influence into the quartet. Maybe I should, maybe I should. That’s an idea. Maybe next time I will tell them that’s my favorite.

MH: It’s possible, it’s possible.

GLM: Yeah, yeah, why not…

Are there any projects that you guys are currently working on?

RM: Yes, but it’s in a long time.

GLM: We have a Mendelssohn project which will be released by September. But there is another crossover project, yes, we are working on a bit with [Europe] Ecologie, but that’s all we can say.

Great! Thanks so much for taking the time to talk with me.

RP: No problem!

Suite for Unaccompanied Cello No. 2 in D Minor, BWV 1008        J.S. Bach
Prelude
Allemande
Courante
Sarabande
Menuett I & II
Gigue

Sonata for Cello and Piano        Claude Debussy
Prologue: Lent
Serenade: Modérément animé
Finale: Animé

Sonata for Violin (Cello) and Piano in A Major, Op. 8       César Franck
Allegretto ben moderato
Allegro
Recitativo: Fantasia
Allegretto poco mosso

Opening the program was Zuill Bailey playing Suite No. 2 in D Minor for Unaccompanied Cello by J.S. Bach. In the gorgeous prelude the low notes on cello are almost guttural, balanced out by light high notes that seem suspended in air. The next movement is more lively, quickly jumping from string to string, streams of notes sometimes broken by a delicate trill or a sharp, heavy bow.  The Courante is very rapidly played, only an inch or two of the bow’s length being used at a time, but it’s still very musical and expressive. The Sarabande is achingly exquisite, the notes drooping from the cello in a despairingly beautiful way. The Minuetts begin haltingly, numerous spaces between the notes, and throughout the movement throaty chords are balanced out by trills and light staccato notes, creating a complex texture in the music not unlike that found in the opening movement. There are halting passages in the Gigue as well, but for the most part it is continuous and ends the piece on a cheery note.

The opening movement of Debussy’s Sonata for Cello and Piano begins with chords on piano before cello enters. The movement is quite bluesy, and the music is also a bit dazed at first before it finds its footing and theme. The second movement is also jazzy, cello opening plucked like an upright bass and creeping onward accompanied by bluesy chords and staccato notes on piano. There are also legato passages full of vibrancy, but the movement never loses a sense of whimsy — if not drunken — fun. For the last movement the cello’s bow bounces over the strings, plays legato passages, or isn’t used at all when the cello is plucked, in a comedic, animated, and delightful finale. Before the piece Zuill explained a little story that goes along with it, although it’s one that Debussy didn’t want people to know. In the story, a harlequin is recovering from the previous night’s adventures involving drinking (hence the wooziness expressed in the music of the first movement). However, after stumbling around he comes across a beautiful maiden who captures his heart. In the second movement he attempts to serenade her (the cello mimicking a mandolin), although his hung over attempts at playing music are somewhat lackluster (hence the humor of the second and third movements). Even if you hadn’t heard the story these characteristics are present in the music for you to draw your own conclusions, which is even more fun.

After intermission Koenig and Bailey took the stage to play what was the latter’s first ever Franck sonata. We have Maverick music director Alexander Platt to thank for the selection, which was a beautiful one at that. This season Maverick is featuring numerous works by César Franck, tying into the “Tour de France” 2012 schedule which, in addition to Franck, features works by Fauré, Debussy, Ravel, and the contemporary American composer Philip Glass who has ties to France, having studied there with Nadia Boulanger. Zuill Bailey stated that he is hesitant to take on the immense task of learning new pieces unless he is sure they are absolutely worth it and can be added to his already impressive repertoire (as opposed to learning a piece for one performance and never playing it again), simply because mastering a piece takes so much time and focus. He also stated that he doesn’t trust the opinions of many people, but that he has deep trust and faith in Alexander Platt’s choices. However, before beginning the piece the self-deprecating Bailey joked that he would reserve the right to comment on whether or not it was a good sonata until after he played it – and that his decision would depend upon how he played it, drawing chuckles from the crowd — but at the end of the piece (which was played brilliantly, by the way) he relented that it was, in fact, a great piece. Indeed, it is, and from its opening the sonata is full of deep, rich tones and a glorious melody. Piano and cello form a stunning duet, and the music is breathtakingly beautiful but also intense. Piano has moments of solo playing but it is cello that is at the heart of the music, and when the latter temporarily stops playing to give the spotlight to piano its presence is greatly missed. The second movement opens with piano running through passages of music, cello joining shortly after. Although the movement is much darker than the first, it contains a similar lyrical beauty and theme. The music is nearly continuous and slightly frantic, although it does slow down temporarily near the end. That doesn’t last long, however, and chords on piano signal a shift once more as the music returns to driving force of its opening for the last 30 seconds, if not even more frantic than before. The third movement has two sections, Recitativo and Fantasia. In the Recitativo cello rises and falls, emotionally charged as it sweeps across its range. For the Fantasia, the music is more improvisatory and mysterious. Powerful in a subdued way in that it’s never over-dramatic or flashy, the movement is strong, beautiful, and ultimately devastating. The final movement has everything: an incredible melody, a broad range of dynamics, legato passages, staccato passages, solos, duets, and great strength yet also delicacy. A culmination of all that preceded it, the final movement returns to the theme found in the first movement and as a listener you feel a comfortable sense of the familiar, like you’re finally home.

Although the pieces described above were the only ones listed in the program, Bailey and Koenig treated listeners to a few additional pieces. The first was the first two movements of a harpsichord sonata, I believe by the composer and harpschordist François Couperin. The piece is very stately, although the second movement is played incredibly fast, and Bailey’s control over the bow and his instrument in general was truly astonishing. Next the musicians played Massenet’s “Meditation” from Thais, a piece originally written for violin and piano although it has been transcribed for other instruments and played by the likes of cellists such as Yo-Yo Ma. Hearing it was a special treat for me, because the poetic and enchanting piece contains one of my favorite melodies of all time. To close the program, Koenig and Bailey played “Flight of the Bumblebee,” a real crowd-pleaser. As Bailey played, his fingers flew over the fingerboard as a smile played on his lips. He preceeded the piece with a story of how he has always liked watches and in 11th grade he walked into a watch store to browse. The owner apparently saw the cello case on his back and asked, “You’re a musician?” When Bailey replied that he was, the owner then told him, “You’ll never be able to afford these on a musician’s salary.” The man then asked Bailey which watch he liked, and when Bailey pointed to one the owner told him that if he could play “Flight of the Bumblebee” on the cello he could have the watch. Maybe Bailey couldn’t play it at the time, but 25 years later he did a damn fine job at Maverick.

The past two months found me incredibly busy and, consequently, I wasn’t able to keep up with the musical offerings in the area as much as I would have liked. Things haven’t exactly quieted down, but with Maverick Concerts opening for the season last weekend I have made a point to clear as many Sunday afternoons as I can for the rest of the summer to enjoy the incredible 2012 Maverick schedule in store (which you can view here). This year Maverick celebrates anniversaries of the French greats Ravel and Debussy, as well as the 75th birthday of Phillip Glass–an “honorary Frenchman,” as Maverick music director Alexander Platt has put it–who is American but studied with famed French composer and conductor Nadia Boulanger in Paris. Although I was unable to attend Maverick last week, there was no way I was going to miss this past weekend’s concert by one of my favorite quartets, the Shanghai Quartet with guest pianist Pedja Muzijevic. The program is below:

3 pm:

Prelude: Pedja Muzijevic, piano
Franck: Prelude, Chorale and Fugue

4 pm:

Mozart: String Quartet in B Flat Major, “The Hunt”
Ravel: String Quartet in F Major
Schumann: Piano Quintet in E flat Major, Op. 44

Cesar Franck’s Prelude, Chorale, and Fugue is quite a moody work. The first movement is stunning and the music is expressive, but not to the point of garishness. Balanced between strong chords and sensitive runs and circles, it is deliberate yet also has a sense of ease and improvisation. The music of the first movement is decidedly lonely in spirit, but that of the Chorale conveys a more full and bright narrative although it doesn’t entirely shake the shadowy sense of isolation the first movement introduced. The final movement, the fugue, contains a dizzying array of notes which spin from the keys in a manner seemingly unconstrained by the limitations of time–although very precisely played–and the ending is absolutely majestic. Freedom within boundaries is the marking of a great composer, and that is something Franck achieves brilliantly.

After Pedja played the prelude concert the Shanghai Quartet took the stage, opening with Mozart’s String Quartet in B Flat. The first movement begins robustly, but in a very dignified and stately manner. Full of trills and arpeggios, the movement involves a delightful playfulness between the four instruments, closing with elegance and finesse. The second movement also contains a distinct refinement, and midway through the music becomes dance-like, a charming waltz full of decorative figures. The Adagio third movement opens slowly by all the instruments, first violin then taking up a hesitant melody accompanied by the other three instruments, interrupted first by cello, then viola. This continues throughout the movement, although the legato melody ultimately belongs to first violin which shines with radiant beauty. The last movement begins full of life, dashing from the first note with nimbleness. The music is nearly continuous, never resting except during a few breaths of silence, eventually finishing with a grand flourish (and, as was the case at Maverick, hoots, hollers, and stomping on the floorboards).

If Franck successfully achieved freedom within boundaries, as I mentioned earlier, Ravel was a master at such an accomplishment. His music is a story, a mood, an expression, flowing as though unconcerned with meter but always somehow within it. As a listener, however, meter often seems nonexistent (unless you are a musician, composer, or conductor yourself). On a subconscious level it is likely the average listener is aware that a steady tempo is being kept, but you don’t always consciously realize this because not only is Ravel’s music less rigidly structured than that of composers such as Mozart, the music is so emotional and captivating that listening is more about the story the music weaves than anything else. It is one of my favorite string quartets, and in a moving introduction the Shanghai Quartet dedicated the piece to the recently late husband of Susan Rizwani, a board member and former chairwoman at Maverick (as well as a longtime friend of the quartet’s). Unfolding as though in a dream–or perhaps itself a dream–the opening of the first movement is translucent until the pulse of the music increases as it crashes in a downward spiral, only to change and become even more full of wonder as it rises once more. The music never entirely belongs to this reality, at times ethereal, at others dark and mysterious, and the dynamic and emotional range is bold and somewhat aggressive, creating a dramatic and hypnotic mysticism. While listening, everything fades away until there is only you and the music, and that is Ravel’s true magic. The second movement opens with plucked strings, desperate but never frenzied. A few bars later three ascending violin trills signal a change before violin begins a stunning melody that viola mimics, the two fluttering over the other instruments. The movement is full of trills, pizzicato notes, and sharp accents, creating exciting textures. There is a slow, legato section of the movement which viola introduces with a sustained note, but even that section contains a feeling of unrest. Eventually all the instruments fall silent momentarily as cello is played with plucked notes, the rest soon joining in and leading back to the flying melody of the opening. After the re-introduction of the main melody the piece closes with two final plucked notes. The third movement is solemn to start, shifting into a slightly warmer mood as it progresses but never losing its sense of melancholy. Played with  muted strings for most of the movement, the instruments take on a shadowy quality and there’s something devastating (in a beautiful way) about the music that is almost impossible to put into words. The music is incredibly emotional, and it evokes the essence of what it means to be human and to love and lose. The final movement is powerful from its bold opening, and there’s no quiet mysticism in this movement as there is in the first. The music seems desperate at times, conflicted between forceful and gentle passages, the former winning out at the end as the piece bursts forth towards its end, closing with a grand upward sweep. I don’t generally believe in humankind being capable of perfection, but Ravel is an exception because with his string quartet I believe he achieved it.

Schumann’s Piano Quintet in E Flat Major, Op. 44 opens with all five instruments playing simultaneously, and although different instruments carry the melody throughout they play in unison for a considerable portion of the first movement. Even though at times one singularly carries the melody and there are also some lovely duets and conversations between violin and cello, the instruments are all largely equal and the music is more about the quintet as a whole than its individual parts. To close the first movement the music returns to the strength of the opening with all five instruments playing together, and it’s flashy enough to be a finale. From there, things quiet down with the opening of the second movement which has a repetitive melody, hypnotic in its persistence. Shortly after that the music frees up, each note a legato extension of the next creating one continuous stream of music, until the initial melody returns. That leads into a more dramatic section of the movement, which is played with sharp bows. The music changes again, however, back into the drooping legato notes before finally returning one last time to the opening melody although the final note is unexpectedly sheer and light. The next movement is led by piano forging onward, and the stringed instruments have no choice but to keep up or fall behind–and keep up they do. In the middle of the movement is a sweet passage, a stark contrast to what came before and what comes after, the latter being even more rapid and breathless than the former with a heavy hand and driving force. This movement is also flashy enough to be a finale, but it isn’t. At last the finale does come and, interestingly, at first it’s less dramatic than the first or third movements. It’s lighter than either of those two, although still very strong. Its power is a little more understated but still ever-present, and as the movement progresses so does that power, interspersed with moments of calm. A complete break from all sound heralds the beginning of the end of the movement, and as the end draws near the music becomes more incessant. Its perseverance is what makes it stand out above the previous movements, and the climax is drawn out which effectively puts you on edge until the resolution at the end of the piece which truly is magnificent.

The Shanghai Quartet is one of the finest in the world, and I can hardly believe that Maverick-goers have the honor and pleasure of seeing the musicians in as intimate and low-key a setting as Maverick Concerts. During intermission the quartet and Pedja chatted with people, and at the end of the concert the entire audience was on their feet within seconds shouting praise. The concert was truly spectacular, and sitting in the chapel in the woods, as Maverick is affectionately known, I couldn’t help but think to myself, with music in my life nothing can be too bad.

A graduate of the Berklee College of Music in Boston, MA, Sam Moss has released five albums of solo guitar music (with a sixth in the works) as well as several other records with the multiple bands he’s in—and Moss is still in his early twenties! What’s more impressive is that his solo work and the bands he plays with all have a very different sound. Even within his own playing he draws from a wide range of influences, some seemingly at opposite ends of the musical spectrum, citing sources such as “pre-war American country, blues, and folk . . . post-1950 pioneers of outer sound . . . and contemporary solo guitarists” as inspiration. In his latest release, a solo EP titled “Neighbors,” poetic tales are sung by haunting vocals and spun against the sparse backdrop of the innately lonesome-sounding banjo and guitar. Engineered by Eric Carbonara (who is also an accomplished musician), the album is beautifully done.

“Neighbors” opens with the title track, Sam Moss’s voice bending and arching over the dark, moody sound of the banjo which has its distinct pluckiness but at times sounds more like a Middle Eastern stringed instrument such as the qanun. The next song, called “Spiders On The Ceiling,” features guitar and voice. The vocals possess an echoey quality, radiating in waves from the source, while the music consists of thoughtful guitar noodling. I say thoughtful because that’s just what Moss’s playing is; it contains a sense of improvisation and freedom while also remaining fundamentally structured, a difficult duality to achieve but when you do the results are absolutely compelling. Within the structure of the song and its time marking are unexpected slides, quirks, and nuances in the dynamics that give character, depth, and life to the music.

The third track is “Blue Moan Blinds,” an energetic banjo-pickin’ tune something like a bluegrass version of an Irish hornpipe that really showcases Moss’s personal banjo style and technique, followed by “Desert Dogs” in which the vocals bear a sweet and lonesome quality. After that is the only song on the album Moss didn’t write, the traditional American gospel song “Lonesome Valley.” He’s in good company since it was covered by musicians such as Woody Guthrie, The Monroe Brothers, Pete Seeger, and Elvis Presley. Last on the album is “Rotary,” a quiet and somewhat wistful song about the nature of life and the moments and cycles it contains—a fitting end for the album which is pensive, heartfelt, and hearty.

“Neighbors” is available here. (As if his musical accomplishments weren’t enough, Moss co-founded the label his record is released on, Not Nothing Records, AND he also designed and silk-screened the album artwork!)

For more information on this incredible youngster and his current projects, bands, and tours check out sammoss.net.

A great jazz musician and professor, Malcolm Cecil, once said to me that there are two elements vital to jazz: swing (meaning energy or bounce) and improvisation. The Lucky Five Jazz Band possesses both of these qualities, and front-man Kip Beacco is a scholar in his own right with extensive knowledge about the history of jazz. The Underscore Orkestra also possesses the qualities essential to jazz (although in addition to jazz the musicians also play a mix of swing, European folk tunes, and original material), and I had the immense pleasure of seeing the two bands play a co-bill at Club Helsinki last Saturday. Although The Lucky Five Jazz Band and The Underscore Orkestra each played a set, the musicians from each band also played together on and off throughout the entire show for what was a great night of music and dancing. Not wanting to miss out on the latter, when they weren’t busy playing many of the musicians even joined the dancers in front of the stage!

The Lucky Five is an ensemble of Hudson Valley- and Berkshires-based musicians that boast an impressive repertoire and have been delighting audiences with sweet swingin’ tunes for a few years now. Early on the band included saxophone and piano, but the current line-up is a little different. Those two instruments have been replaced by duo fiddles, and the band also added pedal steel guitar. In it’s entirety The Lucky Five now consists of Lukas Schwartz and Jonathan Talbott on fiddles, Pete Adams on pedal steel and vocals, Matt Downing on bass and vocals, and Kip Beacco on guitar, clarinet, and vocals. And the band is sounding better than ever. The musicians’ dedication to their craft, combined with  enthusiasm for the music, has created a tight group that balances beautiful orchestration with stellar improvisation. Playing tunes like “Bye, Bye, Blues,” “Pistol Packin’ Mama,” “Hesitation Blues,” and “Sweet Georgia Brown,” this band puts smiles on faces and inspires dancing.

The Underscore Orkestra is really a collective that has a rotating cast of musicians, although a few are constants (such as Jorge, the ringleader of sorts). I’ve seen the Orkestra with varying numbers, but at the Helsinki show the band was in full force like I’ve never seen it before with upright bass, electric bass, sousaphone, guitar, banjo uke, accordion, trumpet, fiddle, and percussion. The band plays a combination of original material as well as swing songs and old folk tunes from all over the world, and the musicians opened their set at Helsinki with a quietly beautiful tune from Turkey on accordion and guitar. Many of the tunes The Underscore Orkestra plays have compelling melodies and uneven time signatures (as many traditional Eastern European folk tunes do), and the songs the musicians did write are indistinguishable from those they did not. Evoking the tradition of gypsies both in music and lifestyle, The Underscore Orkestra travels the world in a caravan (okay, so it’s an old bus). They band technically even finished its latest album on the vehicle, because Jorge had to listen and discuss final adjustments with the engineer over the phone between gigs. That’s what you have to do when you play eight to ten months out of the year, as this group does. Like true troubadours the Orkestra brings joy, storytelling, and music filled with fiery spirit wherever they go.

Club Helsinki is a swanky venue. Between the vibrant red curtains hanging behind the stage, the lounge- and cabaret-style seating, and the warm glow of candles on the tables and decorative paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling, the club inspires a sense of glamour and elegance. The space is, however, transformative. I’ve been there for countless concerts since Club Helsinki opened its Hudson doors two years ago, relocating from Great Barrington, MA, and for each show the club has absorbed the spirit of the performance and performers. Whether it be an intimate evening of blues (David Jacobs-Strain) or a wild night of blues (Popa Chubby), a rockin’ rockabilly show (Eileen Jewel or JP Harris & The Tough Choices), psychadelic and experimental rock (Avondale Airforce), surf rock by musicians wearing Mexican wrestling masks (Los Straitjackets), disco pop (Heloise & The Savoir Faire), a Balkan dance party (Raya Brass Band, Golem, or Slavic Soul Party!), a Latin dance party (Grupo Fantasma), a funk/soul dance party (Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings), a night of  swing (Lauren Ambrose and The Leisure Class or The Lucky Five), or perhaps one of the many variety shows hosted by The Wiyos, Club Helsinki seems a magical place that, like the Room of Requirment in Harry Potter, suits the needs of those within it. That’s one of the things I love most about the club, and on Saturday it was transformed into an energetic African dance party and celebration during one of the best concerts I’ve seen yet: the Afrobeat ensemble Seun Kuti & Egypt 80.

There are concerts that are entertaining, and those that are contemplative. Then there are concerts that are life-changing, and Seun Kuti and Egypt 80’s show at Club Helsinki this past Saturday fell into that last category. The performance was a reminder that music can be — indeed, should be — political, or at the very least should contain substance worth singing about. Music is a powerful vessel for education and change, for it can be used to spread values, ideas, and opinions. In addition, some people feel threatened when confronted with ideas or opinions conflicting with their own, and such feelings are partly diffused when you place opinions within a source of joy such as music. The music of Seun Kuti & Egypt 80 contains all of these qualities and more, and each song is not just a message but a celebration, even if the message itself is one of frustration or anger. In fact, like blues, which is sung and played to rid the blues, the songs of Seun Kuti & Egypt 80 express injustices and harsh realities while  the musicians provide the ability to restore the spirit through the vibrancy, soul and passion of their joyous musical expression.

Although Kuti is an energetic performer, stalking side to side on the stage and dancing around using his whole body, he also has a quiet intensity. There’s something in his boyish yet sultry voice and earnest face that is compelling, and even though it is his movement that captures your attention in the first place it is his eyes that draw you in. No stranger to performing, Seun’s first experience being on-stage came at the age of nine when he performed with his father, the famed and well-loved Fela Kuti, and the young Kuti has continued to use the arena to carry on the legacy of his father while paving his own way and bringing his own music, personality, and voice — both literal and figurative — to fruition. There is a rich cultural history surrounding song and dance, especially that of Africa, and Kuti honors that history while making his own.

Check out a video from the show below:

And the music video for the band’s powerful song, “Rise”:

Evan has a big personality. He exudes a warmth of spirit that lights up a room and has a hearty belly laugh that he lets rip frequently, uninhibited and with robust enthusiasm. These characteristics stream into his music, evoking in the old-time swing and blues the character that the original musicians playing it would have most certainly had. Evan tells me that he sometimes gets so taken with playing that he becomes faint, and he frequently develops bruises underneath his fingernails from playing so hard. While I would hate to see the fellow pass out during a show, it is because he puts so much into the music that listeners get so much out of it. Although an unseen force, the energy and passion of Evan’s personality and playing spreads out from his heart like a net, catching everyone around him and filling them with a sense of familiararity and ease. Between playing old standards such as “I Can’t Give You Anything But Love, Baby,” “Make Me A Pallet On Your Floor,” and “Dinah,” Evan joked with those standing or sitting on stools and on the floor, talking to those he knew and those he didn’t alike with the same sense of comaraderie. He was also joined by a local musician, Stuart Quimby — an impressive flutist with keen improvisational skills — for “Honeysuckle Rose” and the Depression-era “Brother, Can You Spare A Dime.”

String Band went on next, playing an assortment of folk, blues, and country tunes. Although the band is comprised of only two musicians — Sam Moss and Jackson Emmer — they played quite a surprising number of stringed instruments, rotating between banjo, guitar, mandolin, and fiddle. Between the warm sounds of these stringed instruments and the hearty vocals, this is music that makes your spirit feel restored. A few highlights of their set were “John The Revelator” (a favorite song of mine), a beautiful rendition of “Shady Grove,” and an old blues song called “Salty Dog,” which Evan joined in on. The band also played a fun song called “Jug Band Music,” preceding the song with an explanation of what jug bands are for anyone in the audience who didn’t know. The Spotty Dog is actually a bar and bookstore, and during the explanation of jug bands one thing led to another, ending with the musicians requesting an empty growler from the bartenders. Evan proceeded to play the growler as one would a jug as the musicians finally launched into the song. After that the band played what they said is a great square dance song, and the wildest scene I have ever witnessed at The Spotty Dog took place.

A spontaneous contra dance took shape.

There were some dancers in the audience who joined together and called out steps like “alamand,” “do-si-do,” and “swing your partner,” and even when the song ended and the next began the dancing continued. By the end of the night nearly everyone in the room had joined in, and the audience’s collective intention seemed to be to break the floorboards with their stomping. At one point the dancers lined up and made a bridge with their arms, taking turns going under it, and even String Band member Jackson Emmer joined the fun, working his way under the bridge while continuing to play banjo as both Sam and Evan played guitar. It was then that the vacant fiddle was taken up by another local musician in attendance — a friend of Evan’s named Max — making a quartet for the last few songs of the night. The entire concert was honestly slightly surreal and one of those experiences that can never be replicated. It was amazing while it lasted, however, and for those privileged to be there the memory of the night is one that will always remain.