Los Hombres Perdidos / Las Guitarras de España @ City Winery, March 21 '13

My family and I enjoyed an evening of genre-defying music provided by Los Hombres Perdidos and Las Guitarras de España at City Winery in the West Loop restaurant district of Chicago. I initially classified these groups as world music fusion ensembles, but I dislike the phrase 'world music', and fusion music has unfavorable connotations to it. Genre-defying and cross-cultural collaboration are better descriptions of what we enjoyed that night. 

City Winery opened about 6-8 months ago, and hails originally from New York City. They make their own wine, which is stored in enormous vats at the front of the restaurant, and are housed in a beautiful industrial-styled loft restaurant, with high ceilings, rustic but elegant decor, and dim golden lighting. Despite the lovely setting, I felt as though the place lacked heart. It seemed too corporate, presenting itself as more of a cash cow than an intimate and soulful wine bar.

We were forewarned to not order food at City Winery because the kitchen is apparently struggling. Entrees are often unavailable, service is friendly but not efficient (perhaps due to the closeness proximity of the tables to one another - navigating such a maze without tripping or making a mess can't be easy for a server), and the food is supposedly sub-par. Nevertheless, we ordered a dessert plate of macaroons, and were, in fact, quite disappointed. So, don't order the food. Stick to their good wine list.

Los Hombres Perdidos consisted of talented musicians (drum set, bass, sax, trumpet, guitar, vocals), but frontman Colin Bunn's somewhat awkward stage presence unfortunately distracted from his solid guitar playing and generally tight ensemble. Las Guitarras de España blended flamenco, Indian, Cuban, and Spanish music together through a traditional flamenco combo (guitar, voice, and flamenco dancer) joined by tabla and veena, a difficult instrument that isn't commonly played. Saraswathi Ranganathan masterfully blended as well as virtuosically soloed on the veena, joining and interweaving with Carlo Basile's beautiful flamenco guitar playing. Wendy Clinard, flamenco dancer, added a physical and fiery dimension to the evening, with her energetic dance performances, and two special guests from Senegal performed on the kora, a 21-string West African instrument, as well as the talking drum, a percussive instrument that's played on one's shoulder, where pitch is manipulated by pulling on a cord that raises and lowers the timbre. The sonority was thrilling, with a rawness of emotion and a deep understanding on the part of the musicians of the musical styles they were sharing with one another. At one point, the  group of musicians on stage was so diverse, one could not help but smile and be proud of the musical and cultural melting pot that is Chicago. 

The Jordan Years / The Congregation / The Skinny @ Subterranean, February 1 '13

Nine of us piled into a five-seater car on a snowy, blistery night, and headed for the Subterranean for a fun show put on by The Jordan Years, The Congregation, and The Skinny. The Skinny was already playing when we arrived around 9:30 PM, and showcased skillful chemistry as well as the most complex songs of the night, with psychedelic rock chord progressions and clear jazz influences. All proficient musicians, they put on a good show but didn't need to employ any stage antics in order to do so, which I greatly appreciated. I wish there'd been a larger crowd to add some energy to the room.

The Congregation, led by Gina Bloom's powerful soul-inspired voice, reminded me of a raucous 60s soul/rock wedding band, the sort that gets everyone dancing. Some may take the comparison to a wedding band as an insult, but I write it as a true compliment - a band that can get everyone moving is always a good one. Sometimes, Bloom overpowered until the brass and sax would jump in, but perhaps this was due to the acoustics of the venue. She, along with guitarist Charlie Wayne, appeared as the musical centerpieces of the band. 

The Jordan Years also has its roots in soul, but with a darker sonority and more instrumental intricacy than most soul offers. Wes Restless, whose solid falsetto took me by surprise, had an impressive dynamic range and fine control over his chords. One of the best musicians that night was the organ/keys player, whose name I can't recall and is unfortunately not mentioned on their website. His solos were everything a good solo is - virtuosic, melodic, developed, and confident without trying too hard. 

The Subterranean is a laid-back, Chicago-styled neighborhood venue, with vintage dark wood, no pretension, lots of Big Ten folks, and cheap beer. There are three floors: the first is a hall for DJs and spinning, the second is at the main stage level with the main bar in back, and the third is a gallery with high ceilings, a smaller bar, and has good views of the stage and main floor. Acoustics aren't always the most balanced, but the stage isn't far up from the main floor, which is nice for bands and their fans. I would be careful if wearing heels/drinking while playing there; the twisty and narrow staircase to the green room looks perilous. 

Sound Opinions is worth a listen

I just wanted to put in a plug for the podcast/Chicago Public Radio show "Sound Opinions"(http://www.soundopinions.org/). It's been around since the early 90s, but I discovered it only recently. The hosts, Jim DeRogatis and Greg Kot, are seasoned rock critics and writers, and are eloquent, well-informed, and have interesting and diverse musical tastes. I don't always appreciate some of their selections as much as they personally do, but I always end up learning something from the show that sparks my own creativity. Jim and Greg discuss the music industry from both business and artistic perspectives, review old and new artists' current releases, invite guest artists to perform and give interviews, and also provide listeners with informative rock history lessons. They discuss bands that came way before my time but pioneered sounds and movements to which I can nevertheless relate. Does anyone know of a good show or podcast like this for classical contemporary/new music?  

Occupy and Reclaim

I'm in the middle of a truly riveting book, Girls to the Front: The True Story of the Riot Grrrl Revolution by Sara Marcus. It chronicles the rise and eventual unintentional disbandment of a social revolution that was started by girls in various parts of the United States during the late 80s. As punk rock arrived on the scene and flourished in the Pacific Northwest and DC (the parts of the U.S. that are most specifically discussed in the book), more and more women and girls found themselves excluded from the forefront of the movement, and sought out a presence to make themselves heard and supported. Forming bands, writing zines, and playing music served as an effective and powerful tool in communicating stronger support for organizations like Planned Parenthood and rape crisis centers, and also for a society that would no longer tolerate abuse against women and girls. The book is beautifully written, with smart lyricism that speaks to anyone who was alive during the 90s. 

During the past few weeks, a fire that burned inside me for many years has been relit. I grew up in a strict Jain Marwari family, where observing obstinate traditions and playing specific and limited gender roles (for both men and women) were the accepted norms. My paternal grandmother was brilliant but misunderstood, with an IQ that was supposedly off the charts. My maternal grandmother was a hard worker and possessed a great deal of wisdom, but was belittled for her sometimes odd idiosyncrasies and struggled to earn respect from the men in her family. My own mother and other women of her generation subsequently did not have access to continuing education, and were placed in traditional familial roles, despite their courage, intellect, and enthusiasm for learning and absorbing. Due to these preventative circumstances, my mother encouraged my sister and me to fully develop and not be afraid to step up to bat. As I look at my life up to now, I really do wonder if I have done all of these women enough justice. 

My older sister spent much of her childhood contemplating and challenging some of the social rules that we girls and young women were expected to follow ("Why should I sit that way? I like sitting this way." "Why can't guys look at my face when I speak? I have breasts, DEAL WITH IT."). After realizing what possibilities existed in the world of college grassroots organizations, she quickly became involved with the feminist majority on her campus, and eventually become a top leader in the organization. She also studied abroad in India, and worked in women's clinics and with battered women. I idolized my sister (still do in many ways) and followed in her footsteps, championing my own passionate causes in high school, including sexual orientation by co-leading my high school's Gay-Straight Alliance. These activist pangs continued through out college in liberal Boston, where Bush had recently declared war on Afghanistan and Iraq, and the protests to be attended were of no small number. It seemed as though so many communities and people needed voices, and I wanted to help in some way. 

I moved to Germany, and somehow, everything sort of shut off. I became engrossed in music, and threw myself into understanding and exploring European culture and its musical roots. Gone were the days of passionate protesting, although I continue to sign petitions for various causes every single day. Also, the arts were enough of a cause to occupy my mind for a long time. As bankers made billions, the arts lost billions in funding. It seemed as though the only ways to survive in today's hostile world were to become a doctor (preferably specializing in something like dermatology so that you could rake in a good salary), use your intellect to sell out to Wall Street and Corporate America, or to marry a rich asshole. 

But beyond the whole 'how the hell do I survive' thing, I find myself also questioning the arts, and specifically, classical music. What are we trying to achieve with it? Are we relevant today? Is sitting in an orchestra and playing for a very specific and limited class of people the best that I can possibly do? 

In 2011, nearly twenty years after the Riot Grrrl Revolution that occurred when I was just seven years old, it seems as though many of the same problems are coming back in full swing. Just last year, we had to forge a battle to save Planned Parenthood yet again. Female politicians and leaders are still critiqued and observed foremost from a sexual/physical standpoint. It's hard to believe, but we are in fact still at war. I'm just not sure about what to think of President Obama anymore. And closer to home, the Vienna Philharmonic only just appointed its first female concertmaster, Albena Danailova, in 2010 (side note: I don't even know what to call the position: female concertmaster, concertmastress, concertmistress? No one on the internet seems to know, either, because we haven't had this situation occur often enough, it seems), and everyone is thrilled about this. 2010? Really, guys? 

Weren't these issues supposed to have been resolved in the 90s? Why do people have to protest on Wall Street (again)? And why are we gloating about women in orchestras in 2011 when women have been revolutionizing rock and roll for literally decades? Why is classical music seemingly behind the social times? Or are women in rock music purely another money-making facade accessory? In which type of industry (besides sex trafficking) have women truly flourished? What is it going to take to create truly sustainable change, and what is my role in all of it? What can I do?