25 Minutes of Heaven: Small’s Jazz Club

I have never been so sorry to have shown up late to a live set as I was when I heard the last 25 minutes of Joey G Clef’s set at Small’s this past Saturday night.

Small’s is a legendary jazz club, a tiny hole in the wall place where many extraordinarily talented jazz acts have played. I only recently started venturing out to hear more live music in the past year and this was actually the first time I’d been to Small’s to sit in on a set. The early set.

Unfortunately the Small’s website had an error showing Joey G Clef playing an early set and a later set (even I thought, hmm, that’s interesting…) but it was just a mistake. And so there I was at 9:35, listening to a hugely (figuratively and literally) talented alto saxaphonist and his band play swing jazz – and they were swingin’ it right!

And while I did stay to listen to some of The Jimmy Greene Group, they played a kind of jazz I’m not as into… a kind of somewhat discordant variety where the notes are all over the place and (for me at least) I can’t hook into the rhythm. I can listen to that and appreciate the artistry, but I’ll tell you what – Joey G Clef had people dancing in the aisles. People could not stop moving while his band was swingin.

Apparently he also plays with another band, which he told the crowd. It’s called the Yalloppin’ Hounds. The name alone holds huge promise!

While my 25 minutes of heaven at Small’s was totally worth the $20 cover charge, the next time I see Joey G Clef playing around, or the Yalloppin’ Hounds, you can believe I won’t be late!

P.S. If you’ve never been to Small’s Jazz Club - check it out! 183 West 1oth Street

Jr. Mack at Terra Blues!

Sometimes you see live music and you’re so blown away you have to tell everybody.

Tonight was one of those nights.

After having dinner with a friend, I decided to head over to my favorite Blues club in Manhattan (actually, it’s the ONLY Blues club in Manhattan) … Terra Blues. They attract the best local and international talent around, and Jr. Mack and his band proved again tonight why Terra has the stellar reputation it does as a showcase.

Jr. Mack just got back from Amsterdam, he told the crowd, and he said he was a little jet lagged. If this is how he plays when he’s jet lagged, I can’t imagine how he plays fully rested! He and the band repeatedly brought the house down with his renditions of Born Under a Bad Sign, Melissa (he sits in with the Allman Brothers when they come to NYC) and original tunes like I Believe I Need to Make a Change.

Clip of Jr. Mack playing I Believe I Need to Make a Change:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=suACaSou_JY

Not only does Mack play the blues, he is also a jazz musician and sprinkled in jazz riffs throughout the night. His band backed him up every time, and the second guitarist (Bobby Bryan) did an amazing job alternating the lead parts with Mack and then singing a few tunes too. The bass and drums were also impeccable.

Oh yeah, did I mention Mack was just nominated for a Grammy? Yep, his album And Still I Rise, with the Heritage Blues Band was nominated for Best Blues Album in 2012. He’s really the real, real deal.

If you’ve never been to Terra Blues and you are in the New York City area and like live Blues, you absolutely must go. If you’re lucky, you’ll get to hear talented guitarists like Jr. Mack wail out the blues with such emotion and force, you can hardly stand up when he’s done.

 

The Turn Around

Right to left, east coast to west, then turn around and come back again…

I’m finally back on the east coast in my beloved New York City. I was supposed to spend two weeks in California, but plans changed and I wound up staying a third week. After two weeks on the west coast I started to feel homesick, and by the end of three weeks I nearly danced onto the plane to get home.

When we landed at Newark airport, and I saw the city in the window, my heart leapt up to meet it.

One thing that’s surprised me is how short term vs. long term memory works as it pertains to my travel schedule. What I mean is… after being away from home for three weeks, it feels much longer. I start to lose my day to day familiarity with the places I haunt regularly when I’m not there.

I know this because when I return home and go to my regular diner, for instance, they seem surprised to see me. “Hi!” they say, “I haven’t seen you in a while!”

Yes, they sense it too. I’ve been gone just long enough to seem really gone, and when I come back, it is surprising and somehow feels new. My first diner meal when I got home? Greek salad with toasted pita. East coast diners know how to do that right.

And on the west coast, I’m developing a set of go-to places too (a survival tactic). I found a diner, well… let’s call it a diner, but it’s a California diner which is not really a diner but it’s as close to a diner as I’ve found out there. It’s got chrome on the outside; inside it has a counter with swivel stools; a dessert case with eclairs the size of your head; and strange low-slung booths covered in vinyl; plastic plants: all the accoutrements of what is known as “diner.” The menu is decidedly west coast though. Most omelettes come with salsa and sour cream, which is just wierd; and the waitresses don’t call you hon. (I hate that!)

Yeah, Silicon Valley is a massive, sprawling suburb. The towns are intersected by large 10 lane freeways and 6-8 lane expressways and busy four lane “local roads.” The traffic there is oppressive. It is not unusual to be completely stopped on a 10 lane freeway, and when traffic begins moving, you’re doing 10 miles an hour for miles and miles. A trip that should take 10 minutes takes 30 during the morning rush hour. (The price of one gallon of regular gas was $4.35 when I left, incidentally.)

Ahh, it’s good to be home. I can jump on the PATH train for 2 bucks and be in New York City within minutes. I can stroll around my Manhattan and enjoy the early signs of Spring arriving (I’m choosing to ignore the weather prediction for light snow showers tomorrow…)

The thing is, I’ve spent this weekend doing a lot of laundry, paying bills and doing my best to catch up on all the tasks, large and small, that need doing but can’t get done if I’m not home.

For example, the handle broke on my heavily abused suitcase when I yanked it off the carousel at Newark baggage claim. So part of my weekend was spent in the search and acquisition of a replacement.

As I brought the luggage to the checkout, I casually mentioned to the cashier that I had just come back from California and the handle broke, so I needed a new bag, yadda yadda yadda.

She said, You were traveling in California? That sounds so glamorous.

That was the word she used. Glamorous. And I said, well, traveling for work isn’t glamorous, trust me.

But it sounds that way to me, she said.

I asked her, Do you have family here?

She tilted her head quizzically. Yes, she said.

Okay, imagine leaving your family for three weeks and living out of a hotel while going to work everyday, I said.

Her brows creased a little, Oh, she said, I guess I see what you mean. That must be kind of hard.

Yeah. That’s what I mean.

And soon I’ll be hitting the road again. And by soon, I mean tomorrow. I’d better enjoy the minutes and hours I have left while I can…

In the meantime, I’ve got to throw the laundry in the dryer………….

Coming out as Bi…

I’ve been hiding in my New York City closet for some time now, alluding to the fact that sometimes I went to a place far away, someplace I was hesitant to admit I was going… but it’s true:

I’m Bi-Coastal.

There, I’ve said it. I can only hope my New York City friends won’t hold it against me, but I’m cheating on them with California.

It’s been a few months now since I started my new job, which has had me on the run to the San Jose/Silicon Valley area. I’ve been spending so much time there for my job – weeks on end - I’m starting to get to know the place better. I’m making friends in California (at work, but it’s a start to establishing my personal network there…) and going out and exploring new places with them, having lunches and dinners, etc. They’ve gone out of their way to make me feel welcome and for that I’m very grateful. There are already a few people I can easily see becoming good friends with, which is a pretty amazing thing to say after such a short period of time.

Eventually, I will have to pick up my belongings from Jersey City/NYC and relocate to the West Coast, somewhere in the San Jose area. So this bi-coastal living is really only a temporary limbo, but an important one because right now I have the best of both worlds… I can come home on weekends and see my friends and maintain the kind of in-person contact that’s so crucial for relationships, and I get to spend time with my new friends in California when I’m there.

I won’t say it’s all roses and rainbows though, it is strange to live out of a hotel room for weeks on end. I can’t call it “hard” because all of my physical needs are taken care of: food, shelter, clothing… but this life is disruptive to having any kind of routine. It also makes it more challenging to maintain the close personal relationships that are so important to me, without those, I become emotionally adrift in my life. Those are the toughest moments. I’ve noticed a tendancy to feel melancholy when I’m alone in the hotel room at night, sitting and reading a book, wondering what the hell I’m doing with my life… then the moment passes. I do my best to refocus on the tasks at hand.

Transitions are, by definition, in-between spaces. They aren’t intended to be permanent places to rest, they are a moment in time when you are in limbo, neither here nor there, neither one thing or another.

That describes how I’m feeling these days, I’m neither in Jersey City or San Jose. I’m not with my closest friends as much as I had been, and I’m not with my new friends as much as I could be.

Yesterday I was on a plane from California to New Jersey. In a week or so I’ll be on a plane from New Jersey to California. And so it will go, and so I will go. It’s not an easy thing, living in this in-between space, in this bi-coastal life, but I’m managing for now and hope to find a place inside myself where I can call home, a resting place that is both here and there… one thing and the other.

California is Not Like New York City

I am prepared to admit a lot of things on this blog, and today, I’m prepared to admit I’m a bit irked. I’ve been on the road for a few weeks, with another week to go so it’s no wonder my patience is wearing thin.

Yes, I’m in California right now on business and I have a complaint. Everyone here is just so damned friendly. As a New York City girl, I can’t tell you how annoying that is.

“Hi!” someone will invariably say to me, just in passing, with a full mouth of sparkling white teeth. How vomitous. What’s worse, they really mean it to be friendly and inviting.That’s just icky.

Tonight, I checked into my hotel and the gentleman behind the desk ran through the usual… thingie to put in your car for parking, room key, breakfast information. Then I asked whether they had an onsite gym. Yes, he said, but you have to go outside because it is in the building next door. You walk through the doors on the other side of the fireplace (the one in the middle of the lobby, incidentally) and then you (insert more directions and my hapless look, knowing I was going to get lost.)

Then something happened that could never, EVER happen in New York City or within a hundred miles of NYC. He came out, from behind the desk mind you, and said, “Well, it will just be easier if I show you,” and began walking towards the door to go outside. I followed him in a daze, wondering if everybody gets this kind of service out here.

He showed me exactly where to go, including the hidden elevator on the other side of the courtyard I needed to use to get to the 2nd level, and go over the bridge between the two buildings to get to the fitness center. (By the way: WTF? Why is the fitness center outside and one building over and an outside elevator ride and five miles of courtyards away? I don’t know, but this is how Cali seems to be sometimes with no rain or bad weather, like, ever. ANYway…)

Meanwhile, if that exchange had happened in New York City, it would have gone like this:

Me: Is there a fitness center?

Him – with a sniff of indignance to even suggest that they WOULDN’T have a fitness center: Yes.

Me: Oh great, where is it?

Him: It’s on the map. (vague flit of his hand towards an unintelligable map, with no GPS coordinates for the fitness center.)

Me: I see. Would you be able to point me in the right direction?

Him: Just looking at me.

Him: Well Ms. Deminski, here is your room key and map (sliding it across the marble counter top), the elevators are ‘over there’ (another flit of the hand) and let us know if there is anything else you need, or feel free to speak to our concierge. (Read as: don’t even think of asking me for more help, and the concierge who is on his cell phone talking to his boyfriend isn’t going to be much help to you either. Now move along!)

Ah, New York City, you gotta love it. The fresh cold slap in the face everybody needs from time to time to remind them they are in a big, beastly city that can chew them up and spit them out in a heartbeat. It gives me the shivers just thinking about it.

You know, people warned me about California. I should have listened to them. Friendly people, beautiful weather, fresh food and smiling faces everywhere.

It’s enough to make this New Yorker homesick.

Mark Flood’s Art Star show in Chelsea

I attended an art event in Chelsea at the Zach Feuer Gallery today put on by artist Mark Flood as a part of his new exhibition at the gallery called Art Star.

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The show consists of a series of word paintings with sayings like “Museum Whores” and “Alleged Artists” and a video showing the judges from the Bravo TV show The Next Great Artist, but what the judges are saying is over-dubbed. Instead of giving real critiques, they are dubbed with computer generated voices and completely trashing the hypothetical artist they are discussing… then on the walls of the gallery are large canvases painted black in the center with borders of painted lace. (Lace paintings are works Flood has been known for in his career and how became known.)

The video tape of the judges was, for me, the most amusing part of the exhibition because of the cynicism Flood is showing about the whole way art is promoted by galleries and museums and how artists are commodified and sold.

Today’s event consisted of a panel of 10 men who all claimed to be Mark Flood, and 2 moderators who were there to ask the Mark Floods questions. One of the panel participants was actually Mark Flood, but he never identified himself as the “real artist” and similarly none of the questions that were asked of any of the Mark Floods sitting on the panel were answered seriously. All of the questions and answers were amusing and ironic, with one of the Mark Flood’s pretending to be a tree, another was a cat in a cage, and still others who pretended to represent some part of Mark Flood’s personality (narcissist, sell out, business person, musician, etc.).

Not too many years ago I would have found this kind of art exhibition completely ridiculous, but these days I think I can appreciate the humor and cynicism Flood is depicting in the show. The world of “high art” has become (has always been?) controlled by powerful forces and heavily driven by money. Who becomes the next “art star” has probably very little to do with actual talent and more to do with the proximity of an artist’s relationships to art power structures and influence.

Unfortunately though, I didn’t find the paintings in the exhibition to be “art star” worthy – but I could not figure out if that was purposeful by the artist. Perhaps Mark Flood wanted to create a set of paintings that would be seen as mediocre to underscore his point about how actual talent is irrelevant in the face of all these power structures at play. Or maybe the idea was that mediocre paintings are what galleries are selling today, along with the hype selected artists get by being represented by those galleries.

Regardless, I can appreciate the narrative commentary Flood provides in the word paintings and the video installation to underscore his points, plus the pointed humor he uses to get his message across. The art event today was a lot of fun, although I learned nothing more about Mark Flood as an artist by going, the 45 minutes I spent laughing at myself as an audience participant and laughing at the 10 Mark Floods give silly answers to silly questions makes light of what can normally be a serious endeavor to try and understand what an artist is trying to say with their work.

If you’re in the Chelsea area, I’d recommend checking out the exhibition… the gallery is located on 22nd near 11th Ave. and Art Star will be in residence there until October 15th.

New York City Music: Dizzy’s Club and Terra Blues

The other night I decided to “stay up late” and go to Dizzy’s Club for the ‘hang set’ at Jazz at Lincoln Center to see the Bryan Carter Trio.

It was the first time I’ve seen a live performance at Dizzy’s Club, which is located in the Time Warner Building at Columbus Circle on 59th Street (at the southern edge of Central Park.) The club is a beautiful space with a wood paneled interior and an intimate, cozy club setting with small tables facing the stage.

Also unlike some clubs in New York, the tables were far enough apart that everyone has their own space, as opposed to some clubs where you are practically sitting on top of the people next to you.

Dizzy’s Club was set up to give everyone who wants to see live jazz a chance to do it in a great setting for an extremely reasonable price. The cover charge at the door for the ‘hang set’ which runs from 11pm – 12:30am Tues, Wed, and Thurs is a mere $5 per person. Once you get in, you do have another $5 minimum drink or food requirement per person, but it would be impossible to find such a fantastic place with a great view at that price.

The Bryan Carter Trio was a group of three young musicians, a pianist, base player and drummer who made their debut at Dizzy’s Club the night I saw them. Not only had they never played at Jazz at Lincoln Center before, it was also the first time the three of them were playing together for a crowd. They did not disappoint either, they gave us an hour and a half of high energy jazz, some laughs and a great time.

In addition to Dizzy’s Club, I have another favorite music hang out in New York City: Terra Blues. As far as I know, Terra Blues is the only Blues club in Manhattan (unfortunately BB King’s club in Times Square is NOT a Blues club).

Terra Blues is a small venue located on Bleeker Street. They have the most authentic local and national blues talent come to play there, and on any night you can hear some truly amazing acoustic or electric blues depending on whether or not you see the early set (acoustic begins at 7pm) or the late set (electric blues begins at 10pm and runs until 2am during the week or later on the weekends.)

The cover at Terra Blues is $10 bucks a person, but you can come in for the acoustic set and stay through the electric set and it’s all covered by your $10 spot. They do have a drink requirement too, I think it might be 2 drinks per set per person, but it’s well worth it for an entire night of Blues entertainment.

I’d like to mention a special shout out for Saron Crenshaw. He’s an extremely talented bluesman who plays Terra Blues regularly for both the acoustic and electric sets (I’ve seen him play both.) Crenshaw has what I’d call a Blues soul, someone who has been playing blues all his life and when he gets up on stage his talent and energy is unstoppable. If you get the chance to see him live for the electric set with his band, you’ll know what I mean.

Terra Blues Calendar: http://www.terrablues.com/cal/thismonth.html

If you enjoy jazz or blues in Manhattan and want to shout out the name of your favorite club or venue in the comments section – please feel free – and keep on grooving, these musicians need their audiences to thrive!

Happy New York Saint Patricks Day!

A funny thing happened on the way to Istanbul

Sometimes you have to love life’s serendipity. In this age of the internet, in the 21st Century, people from all over the world are being brought together in ways we never could have imagined perhaps even a decade ago.

So when a Turkish short film maker from Istanbul contacted me via my blog contact page a few days ago to ask me if it would be okay for her to potentially use one of my short stories as the basis for one of her short films, well…

I read her email. Then I read it again, to make sure I was really understanding it. Then I read it a third time, thinking I probably still wasn’t following what she meant. But yes, there it was – would I let her use my story as the basis for a short film?

The funny thing is … the story she is interested is about characters and settings in New York City, but it was published in a journal in Europe, and then she read the story in Turkey. How is that for a modern-day connection? Kind of funny, right? I thought so, anyway.

And my answer was, this is such an interesting idea, I want to see where it goes. So she and I have agreed to discuss this more (via the internet, of course – or maybe we’ll Skype some day when I figure out how to do that) and see how we can make it all work.

So I’ll keep you all posted on the progress that we make in our new international artistic collaboration. Maybe it won’t go anywhere, or maybe we’ll collaborate on a really fun short film that will amuse audiences all over the world. Maybe I’ll be writing my first story-adapted-as-a-screenplay for this endeavor, or maybe I’ll watch from the sidelines as this thing evolves and be available to provide artistic input. Who knows?

What I do know is I’m excited about the possibilities. I love the idea that my little story, a vignette snapshot of an interaction between two people, may come to life with a director and actors who may not even be speaking English when the story is filmed, but there it’ll be. Something that came to life off the page and onto a screen. Or screens.

Maybe it’s not a coincidence that I’ve seen short film programs at the Tribeca Film Festival for the past five years running. Maybe it’s also not a coincidence that friends have said some of my stories are very visual for them and they can see the story from a camera’s eye view.

And maybe it’s no coincidence that artists from all over the globe can come together and choose to collaborate and see where it takes them. I know I’m looking forward to where the journey leads.

New Piece at Right Hand Pointing!

My new prose piece New York City has been posted as a part of the wonderful, amazing, incredible Right Hand Pointing Cities Issue.

A permanent link to this story will also be available on the “Published Stories” page too.

Enjoy!

New Story Published at Spilling Ink: The Girl at the Chelsea Hotel

Hi everyone, the new issue of Spilling Ink is out and my story The Girl at the Chelsea Hotel appears in it!

Please check it out at: http://spillinginkreview.com/issue-7/carol-deminski/

Enjoy!

Photos: The Dakota and Central Park Reservoir

Today was a great day, the weather was beautiful and clear and warm enough to be comfortable. I spent the afternoon going to a few museums in New York City, and I walked through Central Park. The Dakota has such a great presence on the reservoir.  I was on Central Park West looking east, and got some reflective shots in the water.

The reflection of the Dakota in the Central Park Reservoir, NYC

 

I also loved how the light was casting long shadows at the time I walked by, so I caught a shot of two women walking together and talking while their shadows follow along behind them.

 

Shadows of New Yorkers

 

 

And of course depending on your perspective, you can take a picture where the entire city looks so small in comparison to the reservoir, it almost disappears…

 

Central Park Perspectives

 

 

 This shot shows more of the architectural beauty of The Dakota building, I think it’s spectacular.