Negative capability

This shirt seems to be the height of "à la mode" in Iron Harbor this summer. Saturday night I was out with friends, and received FOUR independent and UNSOLICITED compliments about it: "Oh, that's a nice shirt you're wearing." By the fourth comment, it became slightly unsettling. I began to wonder if people were being ironic, or perhaps that by offering praise for this particular shirt they were actually condemning all the unfashionable, boring, poorly fitted and heavily stained shirts that I habitually wear on most other occasions. People don't usually comment on what I'm wearing. I'm not a particular fan of the fashion mags, so it's odd for me to be singled out as a fashion plate.

Admittedly, I had wanted to be in the "casual dressy" style, because earlier on Saturday evening I'd been to a chamber music concert which was part of the PMMF series. The Bergonzi String Quartet (from south Florida) played Mozart, Ravel, and several pieces by the engaging second violinist Scott Flavin. Very engaging - and the strong playing of the ensemble was enhanced by the excellent acoustic of the Reynolds recital hall on campus. The PMMF is in financial difficulties - in part due to the economic downturn and the ensuing decline in corporate sponsorships. There have been rumblings that this may be the last year of the festival. Maybe it would be more successful if there was more "fest" in the "festival." By that I mean that often there doesn't feel as if there is any connecting thread between the concerts - or any real sense of celebration. Why can't we have wine and hors d'oeuvres at intermission - or maybe after the concert? (At least they should get some flowers for the lobby, IMHO.)

Anyhow, after the concert I headed out (without changing) for the night scene. First at Terry's, then at the Down Front Club. We were a big group: Rob and his friend Joan, Rikki, Nashini, DD, Archie, Lara from Boston, Brett and Michael, Pink and Michelle. It's good that we stayed away from the Wine Bar - Rob was a lot more comfortable without running into Erik. Also, I had told him to drink a glass of milk before coming out - it seemed to help keep him in line later in the evening, and he had none of his usual "seediness" on the day-after. It was fun to be in the midst of so many Bright Young Things. They really do come out of the woods on the weekends - who knows where they hide themselves during the week! But I think that the Down Front Club must be owned by a hearing aid manufacturer: they seem determined to induce hearing loss in all their patrons.

This weekend I got to go to an awesome hurdy-gurdy concert! Okay, there were other instruments involved: guitars, a violin, various squeeze boxes. But it's the hurdy-gurdy which gives me goose pimples! It was the Quebeçois roots quartet "Le Vent du Nord," playing the inaugural concert of our ongoing regional heritage festival. This part of the northwoods is suffused with the influence of francophone canada: settlers, place-names, culture. Indeed, I sat between two yoopers of French-Canadian ancestry: CG (one of my current students) and Archie. It was good to see a number of my current students there: I gave extra credit for attending for those in my Canadian History class.

http://www.leventdunord.com/

Yesterday I was on the "Professor's Corner" show of the campus radio station. Two mid-day hours where I was subject to a lite interview and allowed to play lots of my favorite music. The only restriction was that I couldn't play anything that had swearing in it. (FCC regulations - and apparently they've gotten in trouble in the past.) I was able to select a typically yooperprof mix of classical, jazz, electronica and techno. Though the campus dj noticed that I had chosen more downtempo ballads than anything else. I can't help it: sad songs make me happy. These were all on my playlist:

Billie Holliday, "That's Life I Guess"
Chet Baker, "Everything Happens to Me"
Little Jimmy Scott, "P.S. I Love You"
Angela Hagenbach, "Lush Life" (Billie Strayhorn's heartbreaker)
Stephane Grappelli, "Someone to Watch Over Me"
Shirley Horn, "Here's To Life" (Jimmy Scott)

(Also my Scandihoovian faves: Bjork, Mum, Mari Boine and Røyskopp.)

Last night Mac and Erik, Rikki and I went out to celebrate the strong second place (40% of the total vote) showing of "Uncommitted" in Tuesday's Democratic Primary. We all agreed that there was something crooked about the election. To me, it seems that the political elites had manipulated the ballot so that Hill-Hill was on the top of the ballot, while B-Man and the Lawyer weren't on it at all. Maybe it's just sour grapes, but it would have been nice if our votes had actually been for the candidate we support. The four of us went for dinner at the new Lakeview Restaurant. Pretty good: I had Donald Duck and liked his sauce, though Mac was less than pleased with his stringy strip. Also, the service was iffy. It also didn't help that I knew a little bit too much about our server to be really comfortable with her (or her with me.) One of the problems of living in a small town is that everyone know a lot about the personal lives of everyone else.

I enjoyed seeing Richie behind the bar, though. He helped me select a good Spanish syrah to go with my duck. Gotta love those Spanish reds!

Indeed. Yesterday was kind of long – the last flight of my return journey, Detroit to Iron Harbor, was delayed three hours due to freezing rain and a flat tire (!). I had a full twenty-four hours of traveling. But my luggage and I made it back without any additional wear and tear – not evident wear and tear, anyway. What’s in my suitcase this morning? Some dirty clothes, several new Scanihoovian CDs, and a jumble of new Norwegian memories. Memories especially of diverse and interesting conversations with friends, aquaintances and strangers. But I purchased no gifts on this trip: no trolls, no glasswear, no semi-kitschy sweaters. Sorry family and friends: the dollar’s in the toilet and so you’ll all be getting schlock made in China this year. (Don’t eat the lead paint.)

These discs supplement my growing collection of Musica Nordica:
a) the latest release of the Sami songstress Mari Boine
b) “The Last Resort,” a 2006 collection from Danish electronica groover Trentemøller
c) a newish CD, unavailable in the US, called “ER” by the Norwegian trumpeter Nils Petter Molvær



Those conversations: I have the most interesting discussions when I’m in Norway. Among the topics of discourse over the last few days: Universal Sign Language for the Deaf; the United Nations mission in Bosnia; Oslo real estate prices; the relative merits of Belgian vs. English beer; and the novels of Haruki Murakami.

I enjoyed my forays into Oslo’s night scene. Of course, I’ll have to sell one of my kidneys to pay for my bar tab – if they are still worth anything after this last weekend. Osloians release their Protestant inhibitions in those hours after midnight. (Me too?) Some of the scenes I witnessed in the wee hours might have been stolen from a Charles Bukowski novel; others were positively Fitzgeraldian (F. Scott, that is.) Oslo seems to have plenty of Gatsby’s these days, and they aren’t shy about flashing their “loadsamoney” around.

I particularly remember one enthusiastic Norske gentleman I met after midnight. He was celebrating something; I couldn’t discover what. But he was very generous – when he discovered that I was a “visiting American all alone in the big city,” he bought me two Mojitos and a “Brazilian bomb”. And I was certainly not the only recipient of his largesse. He purchased ten (10) whiskey and soda drinks, paid for them in cash (!), and had them all laid out in front of him. His plan was to give them out, one at a time, to attractive females as they passed by. In all my days of playing Barfly, I’d never witnessed such a ploy, so it was sociologically quite interesting. Oddly enough, some of the women to whom he offered the drinks refused them; as if there was some kind of catch involved. But my friend was undaunted; he didn’t take rejection easily. Unfortunately, I left after he gave away his third drink, so I didn’t get to see how the experiment worked out.

Some scenes from this last weekend's Hiawatha Music Festival here in Iron Harbor:

The Wiyos, a Ragtime Blues & Hillbilly Swing Trio from Brooklyn NY. So much fun!! I'm always a sucker for a good washboard player, and their washboardist is killer! (Not bad on the kazoo, either!)


The Carolina Chocolate Drops, an African-American stringband quartet (banjo, fiddle, mandolin and drums), playing in the traditional style of the North Carolina piedmont. Wow they were good!


Yid Vicious, an upbeat klezmer band from Madison WI. Gosh, I can never get enough klezmer!



http://www.thewiyos.com

http://www.myspace.com/carolinachocolatedrops

http://www.yidvicious.com

Those were my highlights, though of course the duo of John Williams (concertina)and Dean McGraw (guitar) was nothing to sneeze at.

Hiawatha - also known as "Hippiefest" here - is one of the social highlights of the summer. The location, in the woods of "Tourist Park," is speical: it really has the sense of being an enchanted place, cut off from the everyday world. I love it also because I get to spend time with folks who I haven't seen for yonks. Some of them (like Darth and Xenia) live here in town, and I never see them because they have toddlers and they trapped inside their homes. But Hiawatha gives them a chance to let the brats - er, I mean the adorable little ones - to run free. Other people come back to Iron Harbor specifically for the festival. Like Tricia, who came from relatively nearby (Chicago) and Sal, who came from a very long distance (Alaska). It's probably been seven years since I last saw Sal. She's now living in Fairbanks and playing piccolo for an Army Band. (really, I'm not making this up.) With Sal, it doesn't matter how much time has passed. She's someone I made a connection with - what, 10 years ago? - and it's still felt.