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Tag: concetta abbate mayflower

Microtonal Merrymaking at the Mayflower

It was a treat to get to hear Concetta Abbate on Sunday at Mayflower Bar in Fort Greene. Abbate is best known as a violinist and composer of beguiling chamber-pop miniatures, but she’s also a magically nuanced, expressive singer. Lately she’s been working on finishing up her Master’s at Columbia, so she hasn’t been playing out a lot.

This time was a rapturous, mostly improvised duo set with Kyle Farrell, who played a marimba-like instrument invented by Skip Laplante. Its series of eighteen evenly tuned metal pipes covered the span of an octave, laid flat atop a styrofoam box doing double duty as resonator and carrying case. Guitar maven Bob Bannister, who was in the house, called it a styrophone, and the name stuck.

Abbate began the show by improvising gracefully strolling melodies. singing and then riffing on a series of Rumi poems from an older and almost surrealistically literal English translation. Meanwhile, Farrell kept the otherworldly, microtonal ripples and pings going, occasionally using a daf frame drum for extra texture or rhythm. Later in the set, he removed a handful of pipes to pare down the available tones for what ended up sounding both more western and more Asian, depending on how close the harmonies were.

Singing in Spanish, Abbate also treated the crowd to a couple of Peruvian tonadas, one a plaintive traditional number and the other an original inspired by a training ritual employed by shamanic healers. After the set was over, impresario Rose Thomas Bannister – who has one of the deepest address books in New York and runs the weekly music series here – took a playful turn on the mallets. The show this coming Sunday, Feb 19 stats at around 2 PM and features excellent cellist/composer Leah Coloff, who’s best known for her Lou Reed collaboration but has an impressively eclectic solo catalog as well.

Concetta Abbate Brings Her Elegantly Enigmatic Violin Songs to Ember Schrag’s Fort Greene Hangout

Like many violinists, Concetta Abbate is classically trained, just as likely to be found playing Ravel or Paganini as she is her own music. She finds inspiration in poetry, literature and scientific observation. The point of the “pocket-sized songs” on her loosely thematic new debut album, Falling in Time (streaming at Bandcamp) is that despite how distracted we are by the demands of dayjobs, family and (yuck) technology and social media, we mustn’t cut ourselves off from the world around us because it’s so interesting. Abbate isn’t necessarily telling us to stop and smell the roses, although she might encourage us to stop and watch the waves at the river’s edge…or the faces on the platform as the train pulls into the station. Abbate finds meaning and beauty in the seemingly mundane, translating that tersely and imagistically into a series of brief, often barely two-minute songs that could be called chamber pop or art-rock but really defy categorization.

She’s playing some of them on April 12 at 2 (two) PM at Mayflower Bar, 132 Greene Ave. just off Waverly in Ft. Greene as part of the weekly Sunday afternoon series booked by brilliant Great Plains gothic songwriter Ember Schrag, who has collaborated with her in the past. Take the G train, if it’s running (check mta.info) to Clinton-Washington; you can also take the C to Lafayette Ave. and walk straight up Greene about seven blocks. Abbate is also playing the third room at the Rockwood on April 27 with singer Tine Kindemann’s pensively psychedelic chamber pop group DK & the Joy Machine at 7 PM for $10 plus a strictly enforced $10 drink minimum.

Some of the songs on the album are just multitracked violin and vocals, Abbate altenating between bitingly terse neoromantic, sustained lines and dancing pizzicato. Others are much more ornately orchestrated. Abbate works a misty, jazz-tinged expressiveness on the opening track: “Looking for a key we can follow, and many days are many lines, too many walls that we could climb,”she muses. The second song, Burst is characteristically allusive and enigmatic, fire as metaphor for jumpstarting something – a career path? A passage to clarity? The video offers a few hints.

A jazz-tinged trip-hop number with piano and acoustic guitar, Fish is a snide portrait of a slimy guy who can’t get enough. Vibrato-heavy multitracked strings color Leaves, an achingly autumnal instrumental diptych. Firefly balances woundedly lush orchestration with noir guitar jazz: imagine Karla Moheno with strings. Spring has an aptly hopeful, dancingly wistful pulse. Then Abbate picks up the pace with Sun Song, a glistening, bittersweetly gorgeous Laurel Canyon folk-pop miniature.

She sings Oh Little Shell with a velvety, smoke-tinged delivery over spiky layers of pizzicato violin and acoustic guitar. Then she switches to Spanish for Tonada al Tiempo, with its understatedly impassioned flamenco touches. House has an eerie horror-film music-box feel echoed in its foreboding lyrics. Then, with Cave of Stars, Abbate takes that eerie ambience to even more gothic, Siouxsie-esque proportions.

Wooden Box reverts to a dancing trip-hop groove, followed by the fiery flamenco jazz of Elements. The album – a stealth contender for one of 2015’s best – winds up with Thought Thieving Hen, a surreal take on eerie early 60s style Skeeter Davis Nashville orchestral pop.