Revelations on why I love this city

Reasons #1 and #2:

I’m sitting in Seb’s Market Café, a laid-back-kind-of-groovy oasis I’ve just stumbled into from the outside grit and tired neighbourhood strip-mall feel of Broadway and Fraser. I’m here to check out the Grand Trine Trio, a relative newcomer to the Vancouver jazz scene, though they’ve played together for roughly two and a half years and showcase at Seb’s at least once a month. I try and ignore the brash Mac’s and Subway signs across the street as I settle in.

I admit, I’m only here because my friend David knows the keyboardist, Karen Rauh, and I have no idea what to expect. Cynic that I am, I’m anticipating same old same old, but our smiley waitress (who could be Lisa Loeb in disguise) surprises me straight off with a cute British accent and a quick delivery of beer though the tiny place is packed. The speed at which the ale kicks in reminds me that I haven’t eaten all day, and just as I start to slide into my own little happy land, a low edgy trumpet croon draws my full attention. I blink and realize this bird call is emerging from a bass rhythm that’s crept into the room through the usual restaurant chit chat with such stealth I didn’t even realize I was subtly swaying to the beat.

The bassist, Orith Fogel, is driving the current with an understated pulse that lightly skips like a heart beat and stays grounded at the same time. I enjoy watching Orith as she closes her eyes and grooves. I don’t really think musicians can transport an audience to that “special music place” unless they can get there themselves. Well, I’ve just barely settled in, but Orith is already is there.

I’m usually wary when I see a trumpet in a line up as it often upstages and drowns out other players, especially in such a small place as Seb’s, but Melissa Hammer schools me. Defying her own name, Hammer’s instrumentation tenderly peels my heart from the busy illusions of day with its slow pining call. At first I am reminded of a black and white detective movie with the lone brass rendering the forlorn heart of the city, but it soon dawns on me that this crooning sounds more like Rumi:

Listen to the reed, how it laments,

telling us of separation, saying,

"Ever since I was severed from the reed field,

men and women have lamented at my shrill cries.
But I want this broken heart, torn from separation, so that
I may remind you of the sweet pain of yearning...”

Ok, I know trumpets don’t have reeds, but the essence of the analogy fits and I can’t believe how into it I am this early into the set.

As we taste and nibble away at the tasty fare at Seb's I’m discovering that the Grand Trine Trio has the makings of an engine that delivers both the spirit of aching longing and of joyful reunion. I can see why they have chosen their name, “grand trine” being astrology lingo for the union of heavenly bodies in a triangular formation that fosters a time of harmony and creativity. My only problem with the synthesis at this point is technical. I haven't been able to hear Karen Rauh’s keyboard as much as I would like to. But, when I strain my ears, I like what I hear. Proficient nimble fingers turning out some progressive sharps and flats.

The music shifts, as it will for the rest of the evening, between a variety of soundscapes. We’re now into a Jobim cover, but it is smooth and fresh, kind of like the garlic, fruit preserves and toast. I’m not the only one in the room who’s toe tapping.

Just when I’m thinking some vocals would round out the gig, Orith provides again, this time with clear, cascading melodies reminiscent of a young Ella Fitzgerald and another up and coming Vancouver vocalist, Terra Grimard. (I soon find out they both studied jazz at Cap College. Hmm, they're doing something right up there!) Orith doesn’t go into diva solos, but balances both adventurous and soothing tones with instrumentation for the rest of the night, even getting into some light hearted scatting. As a vocalist myself, at some points I catch myself feeling jealous, a good sign that I’m going to keep my eye on the Grand Trine Trio in the future.

I have to admit, these cats are tight, and something in the groove is getting somewhere special. Ok, maybe not quite to the same professional place as the Kronos Quartet gig I caught at the Chan a while back, but on the map. Baby Talent is still Talent. I’m reminded of the first time I caught Diana Krall on an early CBC show before she went big time and thinking that there was a bit of stardust in her act. I find myself wondering what they could do if they branched out from rearrangements into new territory. But I’m patient to watch the lotus unfold and I’m not ready to lose them to the music machine yet.

Seb’s Café: Live Jazz Friday and Saturday evenings.

Reservations recommended. (604) 298-4403

592 E. Broadway, Vancouver
Links: Map

The Grand Trine Trio:

Bass and vox: Orith Fogel, Trumpet: Melissa Hammer, Keyboard : Karen Rauh

For info contact: orith@excite.com

Links: Grand Trine Trio Website

Thanks to Karen Rauh for provideing photos. Thanks also to Sheila G. and a couple of monks who have shown me that in appropriate times, and with appropriate measure, it is ok to cuss.

Permission for republishing this blog is granted provided that a credit reference and link to this blog page be clearly provided with the reprint. Thanks.

In defence of blogging

This is for those who are not converted. To those who are, you know these reasons, and more.

I've had a few debates lately with friends who are not convinced of the art and utility of the blog. I agree that reading large amounts of text on a desktop computer with a glary screen is substandard, but on a nimble laptop, pda, pocket PC or other notepad device, I think it is the way of the future of words. And in manageable bites, anything is possible. Reasons:

1. the prevention of the needless slaughter of trees (yay!)
2. it's easy access
3. it's cheap (well, once you have the computer set up)
4. it's as disposable as "delete", but still archivable
5. it's sharable at the push of a button
6. it's super graphic or minimalist with ease
7. it's non publisher mediated, closest thing to anarchy I've seen in a while
8. it doesn't take up a lot of space
9. it doesn't leave piles around your place
10. it's faster if you know how to type
11. you can create them or read them from whatever turret or cave you hapeen to be in
12. it's the only way some people can get their information out (such as http://riverbendblog.blogspot.com/ or http://www.meetvernon.blogspot.com/)
13. Some people even think blogging is a cause worth fighting for like http://stop.censoring.us/)

We can take a lot for granted.

What do you think?

Feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments section. I will read them.

The Way of the Banana Slug

I am honoured to start my blog with this, my ode to the...



Banana slug? "Eeew gross!", may be your first reaction, but try to suspend the space before conclusions...

There are a few reasons why banana slugs have been on my mind and why I'm sharing my blog space with them. Perhaps my friend Minda's long standing affection for them has finally steeped into my consciousness. Or it may be due to another one of my friends, Gretchen Elsner, who is a fashion designer and pop up book maker. She's made a pop up banana slug book for adults (that I hope will soon be published!) reminiscentient of Eric Carle's The Very Hungry Caterpillar, one of my favourite children's books.

Or maybe banana slugs are on my mind because I'm growing to see that they are an enigmatic BC treasure, veritably, a molluscan nudibranch cousin gone AWOL from the sea bed, and thriving out of water without a shell! Curiouser and curiouser... Some might say that I can relate to them because I've been something of a slug myself in finally getting around to writing. And yes, I too know something of aestivation...



But more than any of these things, like most elusive entities that lead us off the prescribed path, I think it's something else I'm picking up on the breeze. An enchanting something I possessed as a child, but later lost to the wind. The same mysterious something that caused students at the University of Santa Cruz to pick this "lowly" creature as their mascot (even though their chancellor resisted), and the citizens of California to almost vote it in as the state mollusc of California.

What kind of enchantment are banana slugs slowly weaving on those who take time to listen to the rustling leaves and watch them weave across the forest floor? What secret green language do they speak, and clandestine dances do they perform on moonlit nights?

From actors in method form, to poets, mystics and anyone inclined, we can all benefit by invoking the ancient, yet down-to-earth, spirit of the banana slug any time we feel wound up, out of touch with our bodies, or off centre.

I find myself wondering if perhaps the banana slug meditates on the universe or existence. Or even (and more likely), rather than getting caught up in their minds the way we do, our glossy golden friends may regularly be closer to angelic bliss or a nirvana-like state than most of us.

Now, before you start thinking I popped some pills before writing this blog, consider that the neurotransmitters (i.e. serotonin, dopamine, oxytocin) that bring to us the kinds of elated states we have traditionally thought to be the privilege of Homo sapiens have actually trickled down the evolutionary chain to us from our more "primitive" and "animalistic" ancestors. (A more reasonable trickle down theory in many ways than economic variants.) For example, take dopamine, linked to sexual desire and feelings of pleasure:

The catecholamine dopamine is present in both the central nervous system and in the peripheral tissues of molluscs, where it is involved in regulating reproduction.
(Mukai, Kiehn and Saleuddin. 2004)

What? Well, the above quote means that dopamine is both in the neural and bodily tissues of mollucs, including our banana buddy. Well, do you think that when the hormones/neurochemicals that "regulate reproduction" kick into gear slugs feel nothing? Well if you ever witnesses slugs or snails mating you would have the answer—of course not! Dopamine and other hormonal and neurochemical substance are the law givers and task masters of animal cells. They squirt out, slugs feel. Just like us. So, the above slug meditation is not sooo far fetched.

The chemistry of pleasure, and I would argue, bliss, is necessary to survival. We may look different on the outside, and have structural differences inside, but when it comes to what is needed for survival and reproduction, biology is remarkably efficient. So, in spite of our outwardly differences, inwardly, we have many of the same master neurochemicals pumping within that govern bodily function and feeling—indicating we may experience similar states, like the elusive bliss.

To top it off, in spite of all of our "human" achievement in terms of civilization, we may have also forgotten a few things along the way that the slugs have not. If you were to really hang out for a while and compare the average leisure time of a banana slug with that of a typical human being, you may start to wonder about how far we've really come. And, when you're stuck in traffic or burning the midnight oil on a deadline, just think about them out in the woods hanging out or silently cavorting in the free moonlight.

Their quiet forest lifestyle is remarkably bodhisattvic. A reminder of what we've left behind. And, in many ways, maybe an indication of where we are going.

——————————————————————

Note that images and text are hyperlinked to sources and info to peruse at your leisure. Questions and comments welcome!

The author of this blog holds the sole copyright to written material herein. Please leave me a comment if you would like to use this material in any way.
I'd be happy to oblige. Thank-you and namaste.