Shannon Fields and I started talked in the early winter of 2008. He was booking four months in advance for the calendar at John Zorn’s venue, The Stone. Each month one person picks all of the music that will be played there, two seatings per night, one at 8pm and one at 10pm. It’s a wonderfully rigid place: they don’t serve food or drinks and they don’t accept demos. You have to be invited. Once that invitation came, I didn’t think twice before accepting it. The time and date were set for Saturday, February 7th, 2009. All I had to do was get myself to New York.

Performing Twilight & Ghost Stories in front of an audience involves highly controlled group improvisation and a loose sense of composition. There are three prewritten sections in the piece for an acoustic guitar tuned to Open C. The rest of the group has no idea how they will be used, what they might play or whom they will accompany. Some players receive specific rules or requests that the others do not. I write out charts ahead of time that help me organize instrument combinations, then I use a light box to conduct the group once we begin. The most important consideration, however, takes place long before the performance: choosing the right musicians.

Diane Cluck is one of the most intense and gifted improvisers I have ever played with. She was the first to person to confirm and it gave me early confidence. Known for focusing his immense energies on whatever instruments are set before him, Tom Abbs is a restless artist. The upright bass he brought to the performance had a didgeridoo cut into it, allowing him to alternate low end attacks. Once I read that The Stone had a Yamaha grand piano in residence I knew I would ask Mick Rossi to play it. Rossi’s work with the Philip Glass Ensemble and his own solo albums reveal a dexterity of imagination and sense of humor all to rare in the jazz and classical elite. Katie Young was the third musician who was an original contributor to the Twilight & Ghost Stories album. Her bassoon would be much needed tone in a group dominated by string instruments. With half of the group in place I contacted drummer Chad Taylor, a musician whose thoughtful, propulsive drumming with the Chicago Underground Duo I have long admired.

Naturally, I asked Shannon to participate as well. His production and arrangements with Stars Like Fleas are themselves sophisticated combinations improvisation and composition. Composer and producer Roberto Carlos Lange is perhaps better known as half of Savath & Savalas or one of his other myriad pseudonyms: Boom & Birds, ROM, or Helado Negro. Roberto has a sharp ear for melody and rhythm which would serve the performance even if he was limited to samplers and delay pedals. Lastly, G. Lucas Crane (of Vanishing Voice) and Grey Gersten were confirmed for alternate seatings. Lucas and Grey, on cassette tapes and electric guitar respectively, are both gifted improvisors and I knew they would lend color to the sets they performed in. Finally, photographer Scott Friedlander was hired to document the evening. He kindly served as the de facto master of ceremonies addressing the audience prior to the performances and establishing an etiquette for the night.

In 2003, my wife and I took a road trip across the country. It was a fast and loose affair that masqueraded as a solo guitar tour for me. In reality, it was an extended honeymoon in which we saw the country for the first time. We ate Kentucky Fried Chicken in Shelbyville, Kentucky. Our car broke down in a Sunday in Utah. We made it as far east as Charlottesville, Virginia, but our trip to New York did not materialize. Once the group was put together, I invited Adriana come to New York with me. We would spend a few days walking around the city, eat incredible food and, for the first time, she could see a live performance of Twilight & Ghost Stories. We packed a week’s worth of clothes into one bag and used the rest of our luggage to transport all of my equipment. I left my acoustic guitar at home and hoped that I would be able to borrow one in town. A few days before the performance, I talked to Lars Gotrich who said he was traveling from Washington DC to attend. He would bring his guitar on the bus, the one he played during the first live Twilight event in Athens, Georgia.

On Saturday afternoon Katie Young graciously called to excuse herself due to a nagging cold. After a few moments of slight panic I remembered that my long time friend and band mate, Danny T. Levin (of Create (!)) was in town on a tour of his own. He sent word that he could make the 8pm seating but, because of prior plans, wouldn’t be able to stay for the second set. I was also contacted by Jeff Hylton-Simmons who offered to help with microphone stands, engineering and makeshift cinematography. Without Jeff’s help at the 11th hour, the shows would not have started on time and they certainly would not have been captured with such clarity. In less than three hours we set up lighting, live sound and recording for nine musicians, and made arrangements to the stage and seating area. The group was laid out in a cramped horseshoe and we blocked off a number of seats in the back with a shared table for Roberto and Shannon as well as the grand piano. Once the doors opened, every seat before us filled up and the remaining audience members walked through the stage to take a seat behind the ensemble.

Early February was still in the heart of a cold New York winter. Every day the temperature climbed ever so slightly from 15 to 35 degrees Fahrenheit. Somehow, by showtime on Saturday it was a downright balmy 60 degrees. Maybe it was the beautiful weather or the assembly of these musicians, maybe it was the previews in Time Out and the NY Times. Whatever the reason, the show was deeply successful: both sets were standing room only and the music we played was nuanced, energetic and unpredictable. Small shadows bounced off the walls behind each musician as he or she was brought into and out of the piece. It contained the intimacy and drama of good theater.

Once the first set was over I talked to Danny, whose cornet playing gave the group a dynamic, melodic voice. He said he needed to grab something to eat and change his plans. He would be back for the 10pm seating. Regrettably, G. Lucas Crane’s schedule became so troublesome that he was unable to attend. Talking with friends who had driven from Lancaster, Pennsylvania and Rochester, New York I was snapped back into the moment itself. There I was in the company of everyone assembled: smiling, talking, shaking hands.

At one point during the second set, both Grey and Diane locked into a loping key where he supplied a few well chosen chords and she, a melody and lyrics. Earlier, Mick brandished drum sticks and began pounding out sharp rhythm on the strings of the grand piano. No sooner had he begun, Chad’s light flickered on, he picked up sticks of his own and they were off to the races. All the while, Roberto was sampling the entire group in real time, throwing on feedback and letting it all die out in a wash of reverb. Shannon alternated from understated glockenspiel and chiming autoharp to skronking clarinet and Tom Abbs bulldozed his bass without mercy. The music was alive.

A few days later on the flight home, somewhere over the border of South Dakota and Wyoming I was listening to Paul Motian’s Story of Maryam. That night, both Motian and the incredible Cassandra Wilson would begin individual residencies at two different NYC venues, an embarrassment of riches. For one night however, I was honored to share the stage that is New York City.

FUTHER READING
NY Times Preview
Time Out NY Preview
NY Press Review
Bomblog Review
Prefix Magazine Photos