Gin and Zilbertronic

I jumped the first time I saw it. A boy, perfectly perched atop the Menil Collection, viewable from just beyond the main entrance. Given the height, he seemed quite comfortable, even allowing his legs to dangle below. Nestled near his stomach sat a small drum and he appeared as though he could begin playing at any moment, his arms upright and primed. On this first sighting, though, he did not produce a sound. Yet his sudden appearance and deceptive reality were striking. The boy is a part of the current exhibition designed by artist Maurizio Cattalan, which includes several works hidden in various parts of the museum, including a sprawling taxidermied horse, and a middle finger hanging from a piece of wire placed in the ceiling. Most people don’t see the impudent gesture, while everyone sees the horse, which nearly overtakes the room it’s situated in. Several paintings by Magritte share the room with the overturned horse, which has a piece of wood staked into it reading “INRI.” However, its hard to look at these paintings without having the sense that you’ve turned your back on a crime scene. People greet the boy in all different ways, from furious alarm to laughter and very occasionally, contempt. The second time I saw the boy I was prepared. This time I did not feel a sudden urge to alert any nearby fireman of the drastic situation. But I did notice that now, amidst a building storm, he was playing the drum, and surprisingly well. Both hands were moving forcefully, forming a rhythmic and driving beat. As the wind picked up, so did the drummer, the patter emanating back and forth from the boy’s left hand to his right. A crowd of people watched in wonder, some pointing, trying to figure out what was the trick here.

I knew that staying in Houston over the summer might be hard.  There’s a few factors to consider.  It’s freaking hot.  It’s freaking hot.  It’s freaking hot.  We spent all our money in Charleston.

So when you think about those factors, you end up with the current situation, which is two-fold…

HOME ENTERTAINMENT!

Lots of soccer (I mean, I watched North Korea play Brazil, ok?), excessive use of our DVR to record Seinfeld and Anthony Bourdain, and book-reading.

INGENIOUS CULINARY PREPARATIONS OF THE CHEAPER VARIETY!

We’ve been on a roll lately, as we thrift it up but keep it delicious…For instance, did you know that if you cook raw black beans in water with a jar of 99-cent Chipotle Salsa, it will be delectable?  Or that cooking veggies in olive oil and then splashing them with garlic and lemon juice is the answer to all of life’s problems?  Or that if you cover banana bread with a chocolate espresso sauce, it will suddenly be gourmet?

Hark!  The Charleston odyssey continues, and each ongoing day the prospect of heading back to Houston becomes more and more depressing!  At the moment, the plan is to seal ourselves in an icy lair whilst watching movies and cooking great food for about 3 weeks.

As for Charleston, we’re now at the tried and true stage, having made our way through 90 percent of our food list, sights list, and shows list.  We’re having a blast, and I guess it should be nothing but a pleasure that grabbing coffee and a pastry and heading out to 2 or 3 shows a night has become the norm.

Last night I went and saw Proserpina for a second non-dress-rehearsal show, with Bella along and this time, with a real live audience.  And it was stunning!  Whereas I was somewhat overwhelmed the first time around, by the angst and the swaying music and bare stage directions, this time I got completely lost in the lushness of the music, the women’s chorus that veered somewhere between medieval and morton feldman, the tuba/trumpet/flute trio that signified all the men in the play, Jupiter and Pluto and a sense of unspeakable evil.  What really boggled my mind was that this music was written last year, and yet it sounds different than most any other contemporary music I’ve heard.  It sounds memorable.  I’ve heard music like it before, but Rihm collects styles, effects, and colors and makes them complete in a way that is incredibly rare.   So much contemporary music seems suffused with a spirit of nonchalance or flippancy or crippling immodesty, but Rihm’s music felt important. And that counts for something big.

On the flip side of things, we went and saw Die Roten Punkte, a comedy-cabaret-punk act consisting of two australians (there, the secret is out!) who are pretending to be a german brother-and-sister punk act, modeled on the White Stripes.  (Their name translates as the Red Dots…)  I went because the concept seemed so strange.  What kind of crossover is there between German culture, punk music, and comedy?  More than I thought, at least.  They put on a show that was eclectic and fun, with jokes centered on sibling rivalry, alcohol consumption, and ridiculous song lyrics.  They used audience interaction, having us dance and talk, as well as ruthlessly mocking those who thought fit to slip away mid-performance.  But…it never fully came together.  I was rooting for them, for their bravery and daring, trying for a new concept.  But their songs hit one note of laughter and then kept at it like those awful skits on SNL.  One song was entitled “oh my god, yeah,” which, sung in a spirited pyschotic way by drummer Astrid was almost surreally brilliant but also slightly annoying.  Another was entitled, “I am not a robot, I am a lion,” and after the 4th roar, well, I got it.

Ah, to brighter things.  We also saw the polish jazz pianist Leszlek Mozdzer play a really nice hour-long set in a small theater on the College of Charleston campus.  It was smooth jazz meets Chopin meets piano cluster meets John Cage.  He couldn’t help but put all sorts of objects inside the piano, from a rag to a bottle to books, and sometimes the results were great, especially when used for synth-like effect with these Euro-jazzy ostinatos, acting as bass, percussion, and melody.  Though Bella thought the music got a little tired at a certain point, I could listen to piano improvisation all day!

And we found the edge of the world, in Charleston.  A little lighthouse at the edge of Folly Beach, overrun by pelicans and dolphins, and absolute beauty.

Well things down in Charleston have certainly got busy in a hurry.  With the festival starting a few days ago, the town is buzzing with people and posters and performers, and its hard not to get swept up in a bit of the excitement.  Last night we went to see Les Ballets Trockadero de Monte Carlo, a troupe of all-male dancers who performed Swan Lake, an absurdist spoof on John Cage and Merce Cunningham, a Bach revue, “The Swan,” and some other small scenes.  The show, lasting almost 3 hours, was greeted with raucous laughter and applause, and its not hard to understand why.  It was such a perfect combination of grace and humor, nimbleness and chest hair, that even a non-dance person could get into it.

I also got to see the dress rehearsal of Proserpina, a new opera by Wolfgang Rihm, which features a girl’s choir of zombie-like teenagers twitching as they repeatedly say, “you’re ours, you’re ours, YOU’RE OURS!”  It’s bleak, expressionistic, violent, and stark.  What’s with germans?  Yesterday I played a concert of Rihm music, that was well attended and received!  And no one left!  The music is engaging but incredibly violent and full of angst, so I wasn’t sure what to expect from the Charleston crowd.  Beyond a few poorly timed sneezes and coughs, it was a terrific audience.

Tonight I’ll go to see the Colla Marionettes perform Haydn’s Philemon and Baucis, which got written up in the Times today.  This is also the project that Bella is working on.  (Right this instant, she’s shepherding a crew of Italian Marionetteers to the local Piggly Wiggly grocery store so they can create an elaborate Italian feast for some lucky patrons…)

Man there is a lot going on.  Lastly we went to see Nick Cave’s Soundsuits at the gallery across the street, and though there was no dancing, it was a wild, vibrant, exciting exhibit.  Just really fun to look at, both for the weird trinkets hidden in the suits, and just the eccentricity of the design.

I know, I digress.  What have we been eating, you wonder?

Fried Seafood Platter at Dave’s Carry-Out: Captures all my favorite things; Fried food.  Eating outside.  Scallops.  Fries.  Deviled and Fried Crab!

We’ve made two trips to a dynamite bakery we found, Wild Flour Pastry: Had a mozzerrella, pesto, and tomato scone with hanging cheese particles, an oozing double chocolate cookie, and a crackly nutella and banana puff pastry.

In other news, our coffee moratorium is officially over.

I’ve been running a few times since I arrived in Charleston, but tonight had a different feel about it.  What was it?  The night was slightly humid and hot, it was cloudy, there were some odd smells about, and, I had two cups of highly caffeinated coffee!   My eyes are bulging, my fingers trembling, my mind racing, and yet I feel GREAT!  When I was training for the marathon earlier this year I used these gel paks with caffeine, and maybe its a result of not being a coffee-drinker until I was about 21, but the stuff gets to me, in a big way.  Didn’t matter how many miles into the run I was, how depleted or bored or frustrated I might be, a little perk seemed to make it all go away.  Tonight I was able to trace my way to the water and run along it for about a ten-minute stretch, with the setting sun at my back.  As I try to get back into writing, one of the things I want to dwell on is the process of discovering a city through running.  For me, its one of the most exciting ways to experience and learn a city.  I rarely make a specific route, instead sketching out a direction or landmark, and wandering my way around.  Charleston is perfect for this kind of running, with narrow streets, garden paths, and just general beauty.  Unlike Houston, I’m not in danger of running into a multi-lane highway on the edge of the local neighborhood, and for that, I am most sincerely grateful.

In other news Bella and I are discovering Charleston at a pretty good pace.  Today we went to an absolutely terrific and charming place called Hope and Union Coffee, with a very minimalist website, and a very awesome menu of skillfully-prepared coffees and espressos, and nutella and banana croissants.

The day before we celebrated the third day of Bella’s birthday extravaganza with a trip to Slightly North of Broad (S.N.O.B.), a restaurant I’d seen written up and recommended umpteen times, and which cultivated a sort of casual yet elegant southern charm.  (White tablecloths, tailored waiters, cornbread service)  We feasted on Shrimp and Grits (loaded with butter and house-made sausage), and a plate of House-Smoked Ham, Cheese and Tarragon Souffle, and fresh Long Beans.  The Shrimp and Grits were flavorful, spicy, comforting, and positively unctuous.  And as for the mixed plate, whoever thought to pair a light-as-air cheese souffle with delicious smoked-ham jus is a veritable genius, IMHO.

More adventures to follow, I assure…

Things I’ve noticed in 3 days in charleston:

This city could give a masterclass on pastels.  Specifically pinks, oranges, yellows, and that kind of lime-puke-green shade, seen most prominently on shoulder-strewn sweaters.

It’s pretty.  Really totally gorgeous.  The buildings are historic, old, refined, and inviting.  It feels like its always been here. There are palm trees, kumquat groves, and ivy.  And garden walks.  Lots of little gated walkways through the city leading to nowhere in particular.

People amble.  I’ve even started doing it.  I’ve seen about 3 people in a rush since I got here and wondered what they were so concerned about.  Sun, breeze, and water.  Why rush?

Flying Lotus – “Cosmogramma” – Effortlessly cool. Jazz for the 21st century. How does music this painstakingly organized sound so damn relaxed and grooovy?

Local Natives – “Gorilla Manor” – An amalgamation of all animal bands. On purpose? Fleet Foxes, Grizzly Bear, Animal Collective, stripped down to basics with a bit of punk edge on top.

Sleigh Bells – “Treats” – M.I.A. for white people.

Voila! It’s almost finished. After a tortorous session of  editing code, clicking refresh, and wondering what the hell just happened,  my website is almost fully operational, with sound and video clips, cool backgrounds, and some lame attempts at humor. In fact, there’s a link to this here site, which, though having sat defunct for quite some time, may soon enjoy a renaissance!

Here it is…Enjoy!

Ben Zilber

It’s certainly been a long while and yet things haven’t changed all too much.

Its 70 degrees and sunny while the rest of the northern hemisphere gets to appreciate and then slowly resent the onset of a fall/winter period.  I’m still re-organizing the music on my hard drive.  My synthesizer playing is becoming epically ecstatic and irritating.  Philadelphia sports teams are breaking my heart again!  As always, the majority of my time is spent in a small confined carpeted room with a piece of metal tubing.

Yet the NEW!  It’s quite amazing!  Bella and I have our own place, and its wondrous, surrounded by an abandoned massage parlor on the one side and a dentist’s office on the other, meaning there is no use or purpose for blinds!  And windows on all sides, old glass ones with streaks, sunlight spilling in, a spiral staircase…  Almost every day we bike the 2 miles or so to school, which brings us through the Menil grounds, over Highway 59 (where sometimes we can enjoy the breathtaking sight of stopped cars as far as the eye can see, or occasionally 9/11 conspiracy theorists with a sign saying “If you believe it was a hoax, honk”), through the Rice suburbs, and to school.  Every so often there is an obnoxious motorist, but for the most part its clear sailing, although that doesn’t diminish my desire for an air horn/bell/other musical accompaniment.

Here is the place!