New York Music Daily

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Tasty Psychedelic Cumbias and Dancefloor Delirium from Consumata Sonidera

Consumata Sonidera opened their set the evening of the fourth at Paperbox with a steady four-on-the-floor beat and a catchy four-chord latin rock tune (what’s up with all these fours?) fueled by guitarist Puffy Ramirez’s edgy, distortion-tinged chords and frontman/alto saxophonist Bruno Navarro’s eerily crystalline lines. And then suddenly drummer Jorge Black hit a cumbia beat…and within seconds the room had filled. The crowd were like rats to a trap baited with bacon – it was almost funny. Navarro seized the moment with his wry, gruff vocals, and the set just got more slinky and fun from there. Consumata Sonidera are a late addition to open that excellent ska/punk bill at Grand Victory on October 10 at 7 PM which also features anthemic Celtic-flavored punk rockers the Crypt Keeper 5 and perennially popular 90s ska band Inspecter 7 headlining; cover is $15 and worth it.

At the Paperbox show, the band followed the first of their psychedelic cumbias with a shapeshifting tropical number that veered between dub and hardcore, wah guitar giving way to a searchlight alto sax break: if the Bad Brains had gone deeper into dub, this is what they would have sounded like. They went back to cumbia sabrosa from there, Billybob’s fat bass anchoring the snakecharmer ambience as the guitar skanked and the sax sailed uneasily overhead. By now, everybody in the impressively multicultural crowd was dancing: imagine that, a dancefloor full of random people who’d wandered in from the flea market in too-cool-for-school Bushwick!

From there they took a rambunctious detour into surf rock with a south-of-the-border tune that alluded to the classic Pipeline, but not close enough to be a straight-up ripoff. Billybob shifted from a deep, reggae-tinged pulse to nimble, trebly lines that he played with a pick, but that didn’t slow him down as the band made their way from cumbia to ska to more doublespeed punk and eventually a long, ominously murky dub interlude at the end of a Mexican folk-tinged dance number, everybody going way down into the abyss. And then Navarro slowly brought them back up out of the smokiness as the guiitar’s reverb-drenched echoes bounced off the cinderblock. They sent another echoey, Guns of Brixton-ish reggae shout-out to their peeps, then back to the cumbias, Ramirez hitting his pedal for some creepy, watery textures. It’s hard to imagine a catchier or cooler band opening a hot set on a Saturday night.

The Brooklyn Youth Chorus Soar Through an Ambitious, State-of-the-Art Program at National Sawdust

To paraphrase Rebecca Turner, Brooklyn is so big because it has to hold a lot of beautiful voices. Last night at the newly opened and sonically exquisite National Sawdust in Williamsburg, approximately fifty of those voices performed an exhilarating, richly dynamic program of new works for choir and chamber ensemble by four of this era’s outstanding women composers. The singers’ average age, from the looks of it, was around sixteen. In case you haven’t seen them, director Dianne Berkun-Menaker has shaped the Brooklyn Youth Chorus into a magnificent, meticulous powerhouse of an ensemble. There are young women in this group who will be able to sing for a living, especially the two high sopranos on the far end, stage right. To the young blonde lady in the black suit and her bandmate in the peroxide pageboy and glasses: stick with this and you’ll never need a dayjob.

As if we need further proof that music doesn’t have to be dumbed down to appeal to younger musicians, this concert was it. These works were sophisticated, employed all kinds of intricate counterpoint, required considerable amounts of what an instrumentalist would call extended technique, and the group rose to meet those demands efficiently and expertly: they schooled the old people in the house. Caroline Shaw was represented by two works, Its Motion Keeps and Anni’s Constant. The former was pinpoint-precise, full of quirky staccato, dizzying polyrhythns, a delightfully dancing groove and the occasional playful, hair-raising accent leaping in unexpectedly. The latter took a comfortable, homespun folk tune and made an ecstatically swinging, sometimes stomping celebration out of it – with some hilariously goofy vocalisms midway through.

For Sarah Small‘s Around the Forest, A Youth Roams – an electrifying, bracing mashuup of Bulgarian folk and postminimalism – the paradigm-shifting composer/arranger and Balkan music specialist was joined by both the choir and her a-cappella trio Black Sea Hotel with Shelley Thomas and Willa Roberts. The trio handled its challenging whoops, microtones and exotic ornamentation while the chorus grounded the piece with equal parts lushness and austerity, bolstered by Small’s darkly ambered string score featuring orchestration and additional composition  by Rima Fand. Small’s inspiraton for the piece draws considerably on her time spent this past summer amongst the trees and bucolic scenery at the Avaloch Farm Music Institute in Boscawen, New Hampshire.

National Sawdust impresario Paola Prestini joined the chorus to narrate the choral segments of her forthcoming multimedia work Aging Magician, a soberingly surreal collaboration with director Julian Crouch, with lyrics by Rinde Eckert. The pieces worked well as a stand-alone suite, sharing a trickily rhythmic and dynamically-charged playfulness with the Shaw works, but were both more pensive and more baroque-tinged in places. While it wouldn’t be fair to spoil Prestini’s occasional musical jokes, they were pretty hilarious. Throughout the program, the chorus were accompanied seamlessly by the American Contemporary Music Ensemble: Ben Russell and Caleb Burhans on violins, Hannah Levinson on viola and Clarice Jensen on cello, augmented by Dave Cossin on percussion, David Dunaway on bass and Geremy Schulick on electric guitar plus a pianist uncredited in the program.

The Brooklyn Youth Chorus’ next performance will also be alongside Black Sea Hotel to celebrate the opening of the new space at St. Ann’s Warehouse on October 17 featuring works by Shaw, Aleksandra Vrebalov and others plus world premieres from Mary Kouyoumdjian and Sahba Aminikia. There are two performances, one for free beginning at noon and another at 8 PM for $25.

A Rare US Show by Brilliant Middle Eastern Jazz Guitarist Amos Hoffman

Guitarist Amos Hoffman makes a rather long-awaited return trip to Smalls tonight, October 7 at 9:30, where he’s leading a quintet playing the album release show for his new one, aptly titled Back to the City. It’s a return in a lot of ways for Hoffman – born and now once again based in Israel – considering how ubiquitous and highly sought after he was back in the early days of the scene at that club back in the 90s. It’s also a real change of pace, a purist, trad mix of standards like Darn That Dream, Pannonica and Smoke Gets in Your Eyes along with originals inspired by the Wes Montgomery/Kenny Burrell tradition. The album’s not out yet, hence no spotify link, but you can get a very good sense of how individualistic and often genuinely brilliant Hoffman is at his video page. If you’re a fan of Middle Eastern jazz, this guy’s a must-see, and he’s just as well versed in New York postbop.

Like Omer Avital – who holds down the bass chair on the new album – Hoffman also plays oud, and draws deeply on sounds from his native land. The jauntily hypnotic Yemeni bounce on the first of the videos, Machla, with singer Rechela, is a good example of where he goes when he’s in a good mood. Brown Sugar – an original, not the Stones song – goes in a more pensively romping direction His allusively Djangoesque, bitingly nuanced staccato on a seven-minute live clip from Tel Aviv shows what he can do when he’s the anchor in the band. An 2012 clip from the Ankara Jazz Festival reasserts just how tuneful and anthemic his material can be, but also airy and introspective. An older clip of Rea, a tantilizingly Andalucian-flavored jazz waltz of sorts, has the feel of what Dudu Tassa might have been doing ten years ago.

A couple of videos from the Xabia Jazz Festival in 2011 offer a closer look at both what Hoffman will probably bring to the Smalls gig, along with his slinky snakecharmer style. There’s also a galloping solo from Bialik Square TV in the Jacob Fred Jazz Odyssey vein and the gentle, spare ballad All Alone.

A Surreal, Catchy New Stoner Americana Album from Odetta Hartman

You might expect to see someone named Odetta Hartman in a band with people calling themselves Howlin’ Wolf Matsuzaka and Nina Simone Bjornquist. But that’s this singer/multi-instrumentalist’s real name. Her Bandcamp page – where her new album 222 is streaming – is tagged “experimental country club cowboy soul experimental pop future folk new york city.” Auspiciously, it’s available on cassette for seven bucks – cheaper than a download, semi-permanently archivable, safe from phone glitches and hard drive crashes. She’s playing the album release show on October 8 at 8 PM at the big room at the Rockwood; cover is $10.

The opening track is Creektime, a brain-warping mashup of hip-hop and torchy oldtimey blues, with a flurry of shivery strings and a plaintive violin solo when you least expect them. Tap Tap deals with “making deals with the devil,” sparely and nebulously – flitting strings and electronic touches add to the sepulchrally rustic ambience. Hartman runs her banjo through an amp for some tasty distortion on Dreamcatchers, a pretty irresistible and funny return to the oldtimey/newschool dynamic.

Lazy LA – an oxymoron, right? – has a delicate, distantly Brazilian lullaby feel – is that a tenor guitar, maybe? By contrast, Batonebo is a stark, minor-key noir guitar blues. Limoncello is a heavy-lidded, torchy come-on, Hartman’s voice doing that tenth-wave Billie Holiday thing that never seems not to be all the rage among girls with acoustic guitars. The most unselfconsciously attractive and anthemic number – i.e. the big hit – is the oldschool soul-inspired Hard Wired. The album winds up with the surreal Lucky Dog, which may be fueled by the “suspicious contraband” that Hartman alludes to. Throughout the album, she impresses with her dexterity and insightful familiarity with a vast expanse of instruments and styles usually far beyond the reach of most bedroom popsters. Not bad for the scion of an independent New York pizza parlor mini-empire.

Tenor Saxophonist Noah Preminger’s New Live Album Revisits the Fresh, Radical Original Spirit of Bebop

In a lot of ways, the Noah Preminger Quartet’s new live album Pivot is retro to the extreme. It captures the spirit of bebop from back when that music was new and fresh and radical, rather than just a McGuffin to justify a whole lot of pointless soloing. And while some people might say that the Ellington band would never have played half-hour versions of Bukka White songs like Preminger’s regular group does here, that’s wrong. In fact, when they played the blues, the early bop crowd often went back to the same source material that White referenced. The two songs on this album are Parchman Farm Blues and Fixin’ to Die Blues, each captured live in the roughhewn confines of 55 Bar in the West Village, where the tenor saxophonist and his band – Jason Palmer on trumpet, Kim Cass on bass and Ian Froman on drums – are reprising them with an album release show on October 7 at 10 PM. Cover is $10.

The album title refers to the device where a band swings the music without a set meter – again, an old early bop trope. From the first seconds of the carefree, shuffling bass-and-drum interlude that kicks off Parchman Farm Blues, it’s an instant immersion: it sounds like an edit, picking up from where the band just starts to simmer. Calmly and matter-of-factly, Preminger and Palmer expand on the song’s brooding minor-key hook as the rhythm section bubbles along: you could dance to this if you wanted to. Cass keeps things very close to the ground as Froman rides the cymbals and the snare, steady but loose-limbed. There’s a lot of space in the soloing: everyone seems in agreement that there’s plenty of time to get the job done and no need to rush.

Preminger’s smoky blues riffage eventually picks up toward glissando territory, but it’s getting to that point that’s just as much fun as the methodically spiraling crescendos, and even there he plays it closer to the vest than is typical in extended excursions like this. Palmer seems to be charged with the job of Secretary of Entertainment and gets that out of the way; otherwise, he mirrors Preminger’s approach, with a tinge of New Orleans rusticity. And even when Cass gets to take the spotlight as the horns drop out, the swing never stops.

He opens Fixin’ to Die Blues tantalizingly and allusively as Froman almost imperceptibly builds a ghostly swirl, the band following the much of the same trajectory as the first number from there but with a generally more hard-hitting drive. Eventually they reach the point where there’s an exchange between Preminger and Palmer mirroring an old field holller, and a handoff that seems to completely catch Palmer by surprise, so he channels a cool Miles vibe in resistance to the fray underneath. If this album can be summed up in a sentence, it’s that the group never loses sight of the simple fact that this is blues, and as long as they go, they never stray far from that underlying poignancy. The album’s not officially up at Preminger’s site yet, but you can get a good sense of his general purposefulness at his music page.

Dan Trueman’s Crazy, Versatile New Keyboard Software Gets a Workout at le Poisson Rouge

Let’s say you’re a keyboardist and sick of the same old notes: as Wadada Leo Smith would say, maybe you feel hemmed in by the “tyranny of the key of C.” Maybe you want to voice the kind of in-between notes that a fretless instrument can deliver…or you want to go inside the piano a la George Crumb…or you’ve got a fondness for microtones or weird tunings in general. But as much as you’d like to bring in a real piano that you can play around with and/or torture a little, there’s no way it’s going to fit through your doorframe, or up the five rickety flights of stairs to your place…and you can’t afford a crane and a crew to pop out the window and put it back in again. Not to worry: Dan Trueman‘s new Bitklavier software, compatible with any MIDI keyboard, will empower you many times over. To illustrate its many capabilities, Trueman has a new album, Nostalgic Synchronic, played by So Percussion‘s Adam Sliwinski and streaming at Bandcamp. The album release show features Sliwinski and So Percussion, pianist Cristina Altamura playing Bach, and Trueman airing out his chops on the hardanger fiddle this Tuesday, October 6 at 7:30 PM at le Poisson Rouge. There will also be Bitklavier workstations set up for adventurous keyboardists to have fun with. Advance tix are $15.

To what degree is this album a demo reel – lookit all the wild things my gizmo can do! – and how genuinely musical is it? Obviously, Trueman is having a ball with all the echo and backward-masking and pitch-bending effects, and as much as his eight etudes here seeem obviously designed with those things in mind, the music is more listenable than you might expect – and trippy beyond belief. An apt comparison is Vijay Iyer‘s work on the actual acoustic prepared piano on Hafez Modirzadeh‘s cult classic Postchromodal Out! album from a couple of years ago. The first track is minimalist, steadily rhythmic and staccato, showcasing how subtly and intricately echo can be deployed, along with minute changes in pitch that are all the more prominent considering the tune’s static quality. The slow second piece mimics the almost glacial shifts of tidal motion, with gentle variances in rhythm – an important and useful feature of the software – and the decay of notes. The third takes a simple, folksy melody and quickly disassembles it, with dizzying, rhythmically altered echo: imagine an acid flashback experience of slapback reverb.

Track four has creepy fun with a steady raindroplet tune. The one after that, a homage to Norwegian pianist Christian Wallumrød, wastes no time shifting from what promises to be a Beatlesque psychedelic rock stroll and then offers a look at how the software could be applied to blues or jazz riffage. Etude six is especially tuneful, a jauntily echoing, balletesque number exploring the software’s rhythmic effect on counterpoint: the point seems to be, “see, you can play Bach with this.” The seventh piece, an old Norwegian folk melody transposed from its original strange tuning to an arguably even stranger new one, relates to how neoromantic phrases can be cut, pasted and staggered. The concluding etude, slow and steady, offers a delightfully menacing hint at where David Lynch could go with this. Let’s see – there’s a new Twin Peaks series coming up, isn’t there?

Looking Forward and Back to a Couple of Tantalizing Album Cover Nights

An allstar cast of downtown New York talent got together this past August 27 at Hifi Bar, where they played Young Marble Giants’ cult favorite 1981 album Colossal Youth – right at the same time that the regrouped original band was doing the exact same thing at Royal Festival Hall in London. It’s not clear if the London show was recorded, but thanks to Elemental Films – who’ve also captured a ton of amazing, rare footage of Molly Ruth, the Shootout Band and many others – the night was immortalized, and you can watch it on youtube!

“In the year 1980, songs like Babe, by Styx and Lady, by Kenny Rogers were at the top of the pops…and this album was happening at the same time, something beautiful and stark and more powerful because it had such a sense of loneliness about it. Becuase of that, it has withstood the test of time. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to listen to Babe – I want to listen to Colossal Youth,“ organizer and Elk City forntwoman Renee Lobue explained with more sincerity than snark.

Without further ado, Lysa Opfer stepped to the mic for Searching for Mr. Right, guitarist Sam Weisberg supplying a spare proto-skronk as bassist Tom Shad held down a similarly stark reggae pulse in tandem with syndrum player Joe Fee. Shad, in particular, had a ball with Philip Moxhan’s incisive, all-over-the-place lines, pretty much note-for-note with the original, for the most part sticking to a biting, trebly tone. On guitar, Weisberg and Andy Wellington beefed up the originals, no surprise since they were using far better amps and a real sound system as opposed to a cheap four-track recorder. Speed the Plough‘s John Baumgartner supplied aptly swirly, noir-tinged organ lines when the songs required them. On the other hand, most of the singers – some of them guys – lent their own original style to the vocals rather than trying to match Alison Stottam’s muted, moody vocal delivery.

But many of those voices were as individualistic as hers, and made these new interpretations every bit as compelling as the originals. Paula Carino‘s assertively velvety vocals on Salad Days beat Stottam at her own game, a real treat. Earlier, Toot Sweet‘s Mary Spencer Knapp ramped up the angst over the stuttering bass and guitars on Constantly Changing. The Bush Tetras’ Cynthia Sley added color and dimension to the title track, and Lobue brightened up The Man Amplifier. Lobue, Carino, Opfer and Verena Wiesendanger joined voices at the end for a bittersweet take of Final Day. Even Hifi owner Mike Stuto – the man stoking the “starmaker machinery behind the unpopular songs,” as Kendall Meade recently put it – made a cameo on the mic midway through The Taxi.

Another cover night that could be off the hook happens this Monday, October 5 at 7:30 PM when a similarly talented cast including jazz and folk noir chanteuse Erica Smith and fiery, gospel-infused belter Lizzie Edwards play Paul McCartney’s Ram album all the way through at Bowery Electric. Shad being one of the masterminds of the Young Marble Giants night, it’s likely that he’ll be a big part of this too, alongside Charly Roth, the rare player who’s equally adept at drums and keyboards, plus a similarly strong band alongside them. Cover is $10.

CC Carana Opens a Killer Twinbill Sunday Night at the Treehouse at 2A

Noir songwriter CC Carana opens an excellent twinbill at the Treehouse upstairs at 2A with a rare live performance this Sunday, October 4 at around 9 PM. Reliably charismatic, intense ghoulabilly/Americaa/blues crooner/personality Reid Paley headlines at around 10.

Carana has an intriguing, elegant ep, Maybe Because, streaming at Bandcamp. The opening track, Thank You For Breaking Up With Me sets the stage, a slow, slinky, saloon blues-tinged piano ballad with aching strings, Parker Kindred’s brushy drums and Carana’s sarcastic lyrics. It’s something akin to Tom Waits covering Harry Nilsson.

The second cut, I’m Tired is a gorgeously Lynchian, swaying Nashville noir pop number, Carana’s volume-knob guitar fading up and around Tyler Wood’s eerily twinkly piano. With its eerie slapback guitar and spare drum thud, See You Again goes deep into noir blues shadows, Carana’s melismatic, distantly soul-inspired voice flitting elusively through the melody. Nobody Wants to Die blends the best of the two styles, part Twin Peaks ballad, part doomed blues, a tersely vivid look at a “broken man’s dreams.” The final cut is Still a Clown, a sad, soaring oldschool soul anthem in the 6/8 time signature that Carana likes so much. If dark rock is your thing, this is a show worth coming out for on a Sunday night.

Jenifer Jackson Treats an Intimate New York Crowd to a Rare House Concert

Artists who for better or worse get pigeonholed as singer-songwriters usually don’t have much in the way of instrumental chops. And bands with sizzling instrumentation often don’t have much in the way of lyrics or vocal alchemy. But that’s what Jenifer Jackson brought to a hushed, rapt house concert in comfortable, congenial Upper West Side digs last night. Not that Jackson should be, or for that matter, is somebody who necessarily gets tagged as a singer-songwriter. It makes more sense to call her a magically protean bandleader, whether the band behind her is playing psychedelic rock, bossa jazz-tinged songcraft or newschool honkytonk – or oldschool honkytonk. She also happens to be one of the pioneers of the house concert circuit. This one was a typically eclectic duo performance with Kullen Fuchs, who didn’t bring what might be his best instrument, the vibraphone. But he did bring his guitar, accordion, trumpet, percussion and ukulele and showed off elegantly virtuoso chops on all of them. Is there any instrument this guy can’t play?

Since her cult classic 2000 debut, Slowly Bright, Jackson has been through a million incarnations and these days, rather than settling on Americana, Beatlesque bossa-pop, pastoral psychedelia or C&W, is likely to bust out all of those styles in concert and this was no exception. Her voice was plush and airy, and stronger than ever in the low registers, like Rosanne Cash with a wider sonic palette. These house concerts, she explained, have forced her to come out of her shell onstage, to be the raconteuse and generally hilarious presence that she is once she’s out of the spotlight. So there were a lot of explanations on where and how songs came together, Jackson reminding that nothing in her catalog is what it seems; there are always umpteen levels of meaning. So it was interesting to discover that the windswept, poignantly desolate anthem All Around was not a Gulf Coast tableau but a wintry New England beach scene inspired by a momentary break on Cape Cod during a recent tour.

The duo did that one on guitar and uke, Jackson artfully shifting the harmonies around: she never plays a song the same way twice. The ballad Heart with a Mind of Its Own, with Fuchs on accordion, became a blend of Kitty Wells C&W seasoned with Tex-Mex flavor – and an unexpected trumpet solo from Fuchs midway through. Likewise, Fuchs matched Jackson’s brooding vocals with his washes of accordion on the bolero-tinged southwestern gothic waltz A Picture of May. They reinvented an old favorite, the Beatlesque, ornate When You Looked At Me, arguably the best cut on Jackson’s full-length debut, as a big twin-guitar anthem. Later the two entertained the crowd with a droll country duet from Jackson’s forthcoming thirteenth (!) album. Guest violinist Claudia Chopek came up to add lush, dynamic textures and vivid solos on a handful of numbers, all the more impressive considering she’d never played with the group. Likewise, a guest flutist added aptly ethereal textures in tandem with Fuchs’ soaring horn on Whole Wide World, a tropical soul number.

As entertaining as the rest of the set was, arguably the best song of the night was a hypnotically dreamy, understatedly plaintive Americana waltz, After the Fall, from Jackson’s 2002 Birds album:

Love is an ocean
Love is a stone
Love is a wish that you make on your own
If all of these ghosts would just leave me alone
I know that I would be free

Can a song get any more universal than that?

Jackson’s current US tour continues; dates are here, with a return hometown show on Oct 21 at 8 PM at Hole in Wall, 2538 Guadalupe in Austin.

A Towering, Exhilarating World Premiere and a Rare Symphonic Gem at This Fall’s First Queensboro Symphony Orchestra Concert

If there was any proof that ordinary New Yorkers, especially those who might not be found at Lincoln Center or Carnegie Hall that often, are hungry for new orchestral music, Sunday night’s concert on an otherwise ordinary residential block in Flushing was living proof. The Queensboro Symphony Orchestra‘s previous concert, a benefit for Nepal earthquake relief, drew a crowd of at least five hundred people. This particular evening, the orchestra picked up where they left off with a robust, brass-fueled take of Glinka’s Ruslan and Ludmila Overture. But the two pieces de resistance were both by contemporary composers.

A rarely performed version of James Cohn’s Symphony No. 4 was the first. Conductor Dong-hyun Kim led the ensemble seamlessly through its diverse and erudite blend of idioms, its broodingly nebulous first movement and angst-driven, blustering finale, an evocation of the Soviet invasion of Hungary in 1956. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call this Cohn’s 1812 Overture, although it ends on a somber and distinctly unresolved note. Allusive, wounded, grey-sky cinematics gave way to anxiously tricky metrics and a burst of sudden certainty when all of a sudden the inevitable conclusion presented itself. Cohn is a new discovery for this blog, perhaps better known in Europe than he is here (the Slovak Radio Symphony recently recorded three of his symphonies). His music would enrich a much greater audience.

The concert hit a towering, exhilarating, majestic peak with the world premiere of the symphonic version of Paul Joseph‘s King of the Mask. Originally a piano suite for ballet, the composer takes his inspiration and the work’s title from the series of paintings by visual artist Roman Valdes. Perhaps due to Valdex’ background in puppetmaking, there’s a carnivalesque quality to his work, drawing on 60s psychedelia as much as impressionism, Joseph’s music reflecting the latter a lot more than the former. This magnum opus turned out to be both Joseph’s Pictures at an Exhibition and his Scheherezade, a major work in the neoromantic repertoire that will be performed widely once conductors discover it. It’s a twenty-part series of variations on several cinematic themes. Among them: a heroic overture worthy of Tschaikovsky or Cesar Franck, both crushing and poignant; a balmy, summery pastorale; bitterly moody, Ravel-esque rainscapes; monster-on-the-prowl menace; neblous cloudscapes that grew stormy and ominous; and a lushly swirling climactic theme that will probably get plenty of movie soundtrack action in the years to come. Joseph’s orchestration filled the hall from the murkiest registers of the basses to the very top end of the violins and winds. Joseph accompanied the orchestra on electric keyboard, essentially performing the role of a glockenspiel.

And the spectacle didn’t stop with the music; surprises from dancers and a cameo for singers lept from the far corners of the hall when least expected, to max out the mystery. Joseph, who is the orchestra’s composer in residence, implored the crowd to be still until the suite was over – this ensemble being a rapidly emerging borough institution, this audience knows Joseph’s work and likes it. They finally rewarded the performance with an explosive series of standing ovations. Watch this space for upcoming performances by this enterprising and exciting new orchestra.


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