a night with the "hi-def yo-yo ma"

note: this was originally published on my museum's blog. i have pulled portions and added a few details.

hold on,
one strong,
and you’ll never be alone,
each day, each night,
we pray our dreams take flight,
cuz i need you, and you need me,
and together we stand for unity.

so goes the hook of “the forum”, a song off of dana leong’s latest album, milk & jade. the artist and his multi-talented collaborators celebrated the CD release at symphony space on friday, march 5 with an audience filled with fans and friends. it was a night that rejoiced in unlikely unions, the chance for long-time listeners and first-time initiates to enjoy leong and his unique blend of hip-hop, jazz, electronic and classical music. dana leong in concert is unlike any other musician i have seen—he is incredibly inventive, weaving his personal history (classically-trained cellist and trombonist, of chinese and japanese descent) with his artistic influences (jazz and pop greats, local NYC MCs, film and fashion), to create a new kind of performance. with a foot propped on his electric cello, he bobbed and moved, occasionally grabbing the mic to emphasize a lyric or reaching to hit his laptop to introduce a new electronic element to the sonic landscape. his biography includes a mention about his work with artists including dafnis prieto, ryuichi sakamoto, DJ spooky, wynton marsalis, yoko ono and kanye west, and i think this best describes him: if all those amazing and disparate artists got together and had a baby (just go with me on this one), it would be dana leong. he is more than one influence, he is more than one style, he is even more than one instrument (and somehow manages to play many at once.) he unites cultures and musical styles in a new way, and makes it wholly his own.

his guests that evening were equally talented. hagar ben ari (who performed live but is not on the album) rocked out on the bass for much of the evening, and added a wistful solo to the opening of “opus one ‘why i cry’”, a hauntingly beautiful song about the tragedies of human life. it is rare that electric bass is played as a melodic (rather than strictly rhythmic) instrument in concert, and it made me wish for more of that. as a former cellist, i recognized some of her technique and was jealous of her skils. core rhythm, the anchoring MC of the evening, is leong’s most frequent collaborator on milk & jade projects, and their chemistry is apparent. it is a pleasure to watch fellow musicians enjoy each other’s work and processes (core rhythm spent much of the night nodding his head and pounding his heart when not rapping), and these two clearly work well together. core rhythm’s lyrics are clever and deep at the same time, and while it can be tough to decipher those lyrics in a live show, the audience got a copy of the words in their programs, which helped quite a bit. the guest rappers were a somewhat weaker bunch in person, though it gets better on CD. as a total "america's best dance crew" nerd, i also thoroughly enjoyed the popping and locking of dancer tommy “hypno” chan, who did a fantastic and fun robot to a song that combined human and technological sounds for a truly modern performance. dana closed the show with a cover of "a change is gonna come" by sam cooke, with his trombone singing the melody. it is a testament to his training and his artistry that i had tears in my eyes; his trombone sounded like a human lament, and it made for a powerful end to the show.

i was lucky to get enough tickets for myself, s, a friend and my mother, who was in town for the weekend. we all loved the show, despite being of different ages (and musical persuasions.) i look forward to hearing him again. symphony space, by the way, is awesome. it looks like it may have been recently renovated, but it is a beautiful space, and a great, intimate place to hear a concert. too bad it's so far up on the west side.

i want to make a pun on "gala"

but i can't i am too tired.

the venue: the mandarin oriental hotel, 36th floor, looking out over the tree tops of central park and the building beyond, lit up like a string of christmas lights after the sky darkened.

the performers: the adorable children of the special music school and philip glass. philip glass, playing his own composition, captivating the audience for a few moments. it was so beautiful, listening to philip glass, looking out the windows at blue blue sky.

the food and drink: begged for (maybe even flirted for?) but worth it.

the celebrities: usher passing through the lobby (short, cute, unobtrusive), bob kerrey (who said to me at check in "bob kerrey", tiny and dapper in his tuxedo, and i said "kerrey?" like i didn't know who he was), philip. glass.

the train ride home: never have i been so glad to see an f train.

this is one of those "only in new york" nights, when you feel so privileged to be a part of this city and its communities of artists, intellectuals and philanthropists. but next time, i want to be seated at the table.

OH, and it's not too late! i am still begging for my charity bowling team to help raise money for HIV/AIDS research through broadway cares. you don't have to sponsor my every pin bowled; if you go to the link below, you can donate online. (you can also mail cash and checks to me in brooklyn. email me for my real live mailing address.) every $5 helps (although every $25 helps even more!) if you donate, i promise i will bowl my best in your name, and in the name of raising money for a very important cause. you can click here to donate $5, $10, $25 and $100,000,000 to the cause. i know it can feel like a lot, $5, but it would make a real difference to those working to find a cure. if you have ever read something i wrote and liked it, or laughed at it, or thought about it again, please consider donating. i promise even a little bit makes a big difference. the bowl-a-thon is next monday, june 2, so please donate soon!

old new york, young new york

one of the things i like about my job is the variety of people i get to work with. i especially like the elderly people, because they are so comfortable with themselves. like marthann, who wears the most amazing outfits i have ever seen. like an all-denim outfit that included denim wings on her pants legs, and a necklace and earring set she had hand-made out of house keys. or joyce, who has worn heidi braids every day of her life, and probably cat's-eye liner for the last fifty years. or evelyn who gave us all copies of a cd she had made of herself singing french opera songs. she is my favorite, evelyn, in part because she always seems completely surprised that i recognize her, pleasantly surprised, and calls me things like "lovely" and "sweet". today she looked at my name plate and said "oh, lastname? is that how you say it?" i have one of those impossible-to-pronounce-unless-you've-heard-it-before surnames, and when she pronounced it perfectly, i was surprised and said that yes, that was it. then she asked if it was czech (and it is slovak), so i was even further surprised. she went on to tell me that she was israeli, and was shipped to prague when she was a young woman to work for a diplomat there. a real idiot, she said. she was pregnant and had to hide her pregnancy (or she would have lost her job), and he used to call her into his office every five minutes for various reasons. there was a safe in her office that she had to lock every time she stepped away, and every five minutes her little tiny pregnant self had to lock and unlock and open the door of this giant safe. "i had an easy delivery," she confided, "after getting up and lifting the safe so many times." she still remembers driving through czechoslovakia in the middle of a rainy night (which i told her was still more than i had seen of it.) now she lives in new york, with the daughter she put through college ("she has more education than i ever had" she told me) who chairs the german department at nyu. she almost stopped her story half way in, claiming i wouldn't want to hear her old story. i told her to remember more for the next time she came in.

tonight i met up with a good friend of mine from college, in town for a few days for an interview, at pianos on the lower east side. (it's been a real reunion week for me.) we talked the usual, discussing current relationships, jobs and living situations (that adult stuff), and he made me laugh like he always has. he is not seriously considering a move to new york, but it was good to see him and catch up, to pretend this is what it could be like if he moved here. (i think my goal is to eventually get everyone i care about to move out here so that i have my circle around me again.) i stayed out later than i usually do when i am alone (i'm a real wimp about that train ride home late), in part because i was sad to say goodbye to him. i miss people, ya know? but it is good to feel young and free in new york.

much music

things i like to do:
sleep
shop
eat
take in some culture
things i got to do yesterday:
all of the above.

yesterday was wonderful. i had the day off (thank you, dr. king) and so s and i woke up in a sleepy tangle at the glorious hour of 11am. we met mk and my owf for lunch at dizzy's (the "finer diner") for delicious brunch ("but you didn't have brunch!" said s, when i said how much i like going to brunch this morning on the train. ah, but i like the idea of brunch.) no work, and yet we still found ourselves together and heading to the upper west side for a piano marathon at merkin concert hall. it was such a wonderful way to spend the afternoon. stephen flaherty (broadway/film composer) opened the performance with some of his own pieces and a fats waller tune, and then our boss played a rachmaninoff piece that was really fantastic: brash, emotional, beautiful (a virtuoso piece indeed.) it was incredible watching him play; i love observing people in their element, and in this case, piano truly is his passion, and you can absolutely see it. he looks more at home at the piano than the computer keyboard. he was followed by this wonderful jazz pianist, jonathan batiste, who played his own compositions and was really fantastic, stomping his feet and getting the crowd clapping along. i was completely impressed with him and his joy for the music; again i say i am utterly inspired when watching someone at their best. the hall was filling up so we left to watch "piece for 100 metronomes" (literally 100 metronomes get set off and you listen to them wind down to completion) and enjoy some champagne in the vip lounge. i should add "hanging out in the vip lounge" to the list of things i like to do.

post-piano we went shopping. there is a banana republic across the street from where we work and i tell you, it is hard not to shop everyday. i found a fantastic gold dress on sale sale sale. and then i bought a magazine holder, for my newly re-arranged room (and cleaned! i came home last night and s had completely reorganized our closet and i was so excited and in love i couldn't believe it!) and then i went home and ate an apple and listened to boyland's dating strategies. they refuse to listen to my opinion, even though i am a) a girl and b) in a relationship. but no, they're right, they probably do know better. then i did laundry (which despite being lazy about, is also on my list of favorite activities. so satisfying to have all my clothes clean and hangered or folded!) and then i went to bed. and yes i am now blogging at work, but it is my lunch break (though i have already had to answer four different questions.)

till next time.

magical night

i had the kind of night that i could only ever have had in new york. my organization had their grand re-opening on tuesday night (read about it here!) it was the grandest event i have ever attended. we dressed up after work, all of us ladies doing our make-up at our desks, borrowing shoes and hairbrushes (like being back in the sorority house) and headed downstairs. there was a red carpet, and reporters and photographers from the times (clearly), and champagne and cubed seared beef and miniature latkes. the center looks absolutely gorgeous, with new channel glass and red walls and two floors for mingling. the concert was fantastic, with wonderful performances from the friends of the center, esther heideman the soprano sang brightly and clearly, and "face the music," the sms group that plays contemporary music, performed a new reworking of an award-winning contemporary piece. there were adults and children of all ages and neighborhoods. the company, the libations, the performances were all perfect. all in all, i felt so proud to be a part of the experience and boy, did i feel fancy. now i can't wait for the gala.

grown up life

my office had our holiday party this evening at the home of our executive director. she has a lovely apartment in the west 100s, a two and a half bedroom, two and a half bath beauty, with a kitchen you can cook in and an open living and dining room with a wall of windows. it was well-decorated, with pottery from south american travels and pictures of the family at the homestead in greece. the apartment felt chic but welcoming, and i just fell in love with it. it was the kind of new york apartment i dream of, where i could live and entertain and feel was an oasis in this city. (i really need to strike it rich asap. and how.)

the party itself was fun, with latkes aplenty (we are a formerly jewish arts organization.) i sat with the women i work with and we talked and laughed and drank wine, and it reminded me of when my sister and i were little and my parents would have their book club over. we would be relegated to the back bedroom with movies and snacks, already bathed and pajamaed, allowed to stay up past our bedtimes. every now and again, laughter would burst from the living room, and occasionally we would sneak through, on a kitchen pretense, to catch a glimpse of the adults talking and eating and drinking. it seemed like so much fun, that adult world of witty conversation and linzer torte, and tonight i felt like i had finally arrived. i was at a work party for my own office, not the guest of a parent, i was drinking wine with my fellow adults, talking about gala events, occasionally bursting into gales of laughter loud and happy enough to make a child in the next room curious. i had a real adult birthday yesterday, and went to a real adult work party tonight, and it is starting to feel less like i am playing at being a grown up, and more like i am actually growing up. and i like it.

bill cosby=totally right (minus the jello is for everyone thing)

kids do say the darndest things.

my soundtrack to the morning commute is usually the podcast of this american life. (are you there, ira glass? it's me, magical-newyork. please record me telling pithy life stories to an indie rock background.) anyways, last week i was listening to "kid logic," and it was one of my favorites. i had some crazy kid logic myself. (i thought all liquids turned into orange juice in your stomach, since urine was slightly yellow, and orange juice was the only yellow liquid i knew. and no, i did not think orange juice was urine, nor did i ever try to drink my own pee. i just figured that's what that was.) i work with children on a regular basis, at my community arts program, and last week i was in the elevator with a group of kids and had this exchange.

little girl: i'm the tallest person in my class.
me: are you? i was never the tallest person in my class. i was always the shortest.
little girl, considering this information: well, you do look pretty short.
me: yes, i guess i am. (mind you, she was about seven, and only barely came up past my waist. but i guess if she's used to looking up at adults, she didn't have to look up quite as far.)

and she's right, i am short.

white teeth

i grew up in a very white town. you could probably count the number of black students who graduated in my high school class on two hands. maybe even one. (there were two high schools in town; somehow i ended up at the "rich" one. rich is a relative term there.) because everyone looked like me, and lived like me (it was also a middle-class college town), and thought like me (liberal, too), i never really thought about people who might look or live or think differently. not in an ignorant or xenophobic way, just in a "it never crossed my mind because it didn't need to" way. does this sound terrible? i don't mean for it to. i'm just trying to explain where i came from. the first time i was the only white person in a room, i later told people about it, because it was such a wholly new experience. i had never been in the minority; i wasn't scared or uncomfortable, just really interested in how it felt.

one of the reasons i love new york so much is because so many of the people here don't look or live or think like me. most of them don't even speak my language. i love riding the subway and seeing unique faces, listening to languages i can't identify (but whose rhythm and cadence i can still appreciate). i like knowing that i am different for other people, too, that i'm not like every other girl they see or know, that i speak my own language. (travelers to the land of s and i would really feel in need of a translation dictionary.) this is also one of my most favorite parts of my job. i work at a community arts school on the upper west side, and most of our faculty are foreign-born or bred, and many are multi-lingual. our director and another coordinator also speak multiple languages, and as i sit at my desk, entering data or answering the phone, i get to listen to conversations in hebrew and russian, and the unique english spoken by israelis, germans, russians, poles, koreans, and native new-yorkers. i feel like this makes my office particularly pleasant to be in. we may give piano lessons, but our languages have a music all their own.

oh, and a spasiba to my readers (and commenters.) that's russian for thank you. it makes me glad to know i am not the only one finding the magic. or reading this. how many times can you read your own blog, really?

a real famous person!

on monday (i know, much belated) i was walking to the columbus circle station to catch the train home and eat the taco salad i was planning to make (it was no-money mondays) and i was looking in front of me when i thought to myself "that looks like dustin hoffman." he was yawning. and then when i got closer to him and his tall companion, he moved from yawn to words and i heard his dustin hoffman voice, and i got very excited. i had a huge grin on my face the whole way to the subway, and i even tried to call my mother but i had gloves on and it was too complicated. he was very short, also. this is exciting for two reasons:

a) i love dustin hoffman. he has been in a lot of movies i love for a variety of reasons. (see: hook, kramer vs. kramer, i heart huckabees.)

b) i NEVER see famous people. i am famous for this inability. when i was in school, janeane garofolo banked at my bank; i never saw her. (side note: i knew how to spell garofolo, but not janeane, which i had to look up.) matt damon got coffee at my starbucks; i never saw him. ben stiller and christine taylor lived on my block; i never saw them. they filmed sex and the city outside my door; i saw only jennifer cooldige (whom i like very much, but she is no sjp.) i was once walking with my family and bernadette peters was walking in front of us and later they were all "ooh, bernadette peters" and i was like "when?! how did i miss that?!" so for me, to see a celebrity, is kind of exciting. next i want to meet one. or be one. whichever.