Wednesday, July 4, 2007

i did it!

i did it! i sang in a jazz club in paris. in montmartre no less. on rue lepic! (famous hangout of van gogh, picasso etc). was one of those famed caves where the music is played in a basement and the walls are covered in stones to look like a cave.

when i saw the advertisement in pariscope for the event i was a bit suspect. my neighbourhood is the sexed up (and not in an attractive way) part of town where peep shows and x rated theatres abound. knew i would be stumbling home late and heavily endowed as i am, i have been getting a lot of comments while walking in the area in daylight.

anyway, the place was called autour midi...minuit. nice restaurant upstairs and nice, completely non-sketchy basement. was one of the first to arrive and as usual, band was late starting by about 45 minutes. when did get on stage was a trio. pianist was earnest guy, very similar to carrie bradshaw's gay bespectacled friend (stanley?). bass player was very frainche, lanky, long hair, unframed specs, loved him almost instantly. turns out the deal was that they would play a set and then open things up for musicians in the crowd to join in. very much like it is at the Rex in Toronto. my heart skipped a beat. could not believe that an opportunity had presented itself so early in my trip to sing. didn't have my camera or my music with me. probably what made it happen in the first place. no expectations, right?

so when the time comes i approach the pianist and give him my top three suggestions, he leaps at the suggestion of lullaby of birdland. excited, i grab a pen and record the lyrics as i am notorious for forgetting them. the room starts to fill up and a lot of music school kids show up as well as some seasoned musicians who have since left the intense scene for day jobs.

just like in toronto, jazz jams and vocalists don't mix. even though i was the first on the list, i didn't end up going on until about an hour into the jam. the music was great. one group of twenty somethings were great. the pianist was five foot nothing but played like he was carving and shaping the melody from the keys like a sculptor. he almost stood as he played, scatting aloud as he played, his fingers ahead of his ideas. was quite incredible to watch. the chemistry between players throughout the evening was also amazing. one of the only times you see affection and open admiration among men. would look at each other and smile when were grooving collectively and would nod approvingly after a buddy did a wicked solo.

the room was reverent, really knowledgeable, clapped after solos! the only other singer was a skinny, fried haired, granolaesque woman who was tone deaf but did a very personally meaningful rendition of summertime. she was up there when i went to go up and the host suggested she play some harmonica on my tune and i almost died! as it was the bassist didn't know the tune and the key that i told them to play was a bit higher than normal. thank god i played stupid when she asked me what key we were in. she didn't end up playing after all, we were all grooving so well i don't think she had enough experience to know what to do with herself. had a great time. i was in good form and sang well. was confident, looked at the audience, experimented a little bit and had a great, repeat the line three times ending.

when it was over, drummer said 'bravo' and piano player said 'great stuff' the people sitting near the front nodded and smiled, an old guy winked, the people sitting next to me said 'tu as une belle voix'. was extrememly satisfying but once i got started i wanted more!...

it has been overcast every day since i arrived and has rained every day. there was a downpour yesterday so i ended up going to see a movie in le marais. was oceans 13. gratefully was in english with french subtitles. not a great film but it looked great and the non sequitors between clooney and pitt were great.

went to the centre pompidou today. was raining again! is a great space with some great work. i am not a great fan of modern art but i want to like it so i thought i would give it a try. great sculptures outside on the water, great views of the city. was a fantastic exhibit made of wood with glass bottles, a velvet cape and glowing light inside. the upper permieter of the piece read 'art is a guarantee for sanity'. have decided that it is my new mantra and want to have t shirts made in honour of it. will have to write a song about it.

one exhibit by annette messager was fantastic. really pushed the boundaries and said something new. first part was a series of stuffed oversized cut up body parts in sacs on pulleys that randomly would rise and fall. there was a room of stuffed animals whose limbs were mixed up or missing, also on pulleys that were in cirque like orientations and moved in odd ways. was like watching stuffed animals come to life, they had a strange life though...another room was filled with a red satin sheet. under the sheet was a village. the cloth billowed from another room. the fabric would billow from wind artificially produced creating an effect of the fabric seeming to pour and spill over the city.made you want to move away to prevent it from reaching you. when was at its peak, black skeletons of odd creatures came down to the ground on pulleys. fantastic. yet another room had black looking dust bunnies, about 50 of them, suspended on thin thread blowing in the air like frozen birds.

was caught in rain shower on the way out and ruined my shoes, developed a tonne of blisters, walked for miles for a shoe store to buy flipflops to save me. when bought them and got brief reprieve, rained again and plastic toe thong thing generated new set of blisters!

had quiet night with friends.

off to read my edition of 'le monde'

a tout a l'heure!

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Hmmm. Paris? Piano? Reminds me of a movie:

Jeanne: I fell in love with him when I first heard him play piano.

Paul: You mean the first time he got inside your knickers.

Jeanne: He was a child prodigy; he was playing with both hands.

Paul: I bet he was!

FYI - stay away from sullen American widowers...