Month: August, 2009

Villages at Transfigurations

It’s always neat in Asheville when an event allows me to actually meet and have fun with people I’ve seen/kind of known for years.. the Villages show did that for me, as well as creating some really beautiful moments in Diana Wortham. The combination of visuals, setpieces, and composed sound left me in a trance-like state for much of the set. p.s. for those of you involved, please let me know how you want to be credited and if you have any pertinent website/artist info.

Steve Gunn

I had never heard Steve Gunn before this weekend and am so glad to have seen him live in this context. Gunn is honest in his performance and offers so much of himself while playing live, I felt a bit voyeuristic. I truly enjoyed his set.

Meg Baird at Tranfsigurations!

So at the last minute, Brightblack Morning Light cancelled, and Meg Baird stepped up to the rescue by playing a sweet solo set. It was a delicate and gentle ease into what was going to be a very long day. Baird has just the most angelic voice, and with the addition on a few songs of Jesse from The Violators and Espers on haunting electrified Harmonica, the sound was ethereal and took full advantage of the Diana Wortham Theatre’s acoustics.

Espers! at Diana Worthem, Transfigurations

I have been waiting a long time to see espers. In fact, when writing this piece, I sat on the patio of the Admiral for hours drinking bourbon and writing. and listening to I & II.

Espers: Crisp but fuzzy

Hailing from Philadelphia, a city ripe with artistic and musical talent, Espers achieves a sense of familiarity with their music, the feel of an aged photograph in one’s hand, a recurring dream. The lo-fi feel of their self-titled 2003 release is a study in contradiction, well-mixed but still raw, crisp but fuzzy. Brooke Sietinsons, Greg Weeks and Meg Baird are masters of duality, achieving both indulgence and affliction. Delicate vocals from Baird and Weeks, surprising string arrangements and a lack of traditional percussion combine to create a nostalgic and ephemeral end, an exquisite cascade of harmony. In fact, other than percussive elements created by flute, recorder, keys and stringed instruments (everything from dulcimer, autoharp, bass, violin, cello, and viola to traditional six- and twelve-string guitars both plucked and bowed), the only real percussion comes from finger cymbals and chimes.

After releasing a record of cover songs entitled The Weed Tree (2005), their second record of original material, II (2006), feels darker, and, still achieving the duality of their 2003 release, a slightly more electrified sound. The use of a buzzing, droning tone under many of their arrangements pushes a vibration through the layers, creating a full-bodied effect, and with the addition of Otto Hauser, Helena Espvall, Chris Smith and an even wider range of instrumentation, their ability to be extremely versatile and maintain a distinct style endures.
— Lydia See

(Rest of Article Here)

here are some of my fav shots from the Espers show, and you can click HERE for a slide show of ALL ESPERS SHOTS or HERE for a slide show of ALL TRANSFIGURATIONS uploaded thus far. (begins with Espers)

ALSO: while you do that, you could stream some tracks from the show from my friend Andrew’s Blog

more transfigurations pictures!

what an amazing and out of control good time. [click for updated slide-show]

Coathangers at the Grey Eagle during Transfigurations

Washington Post Article: Asheville, N.C., Has a Song at Its Heart

Washington Post Staff Writer
Sunday, August 16, 2009

Speedsquare (By Dominic Bracco II)

Speedsquare (By Dominic Bracco II)

In Asheville, music is everywhere. From church bells and buskers to pipe organs and drum circles, the city pulses with soundtracks as different as the experiences it has to offer.

On a warm summer night, I could hear the drums from blocks away. Instead of a steady bum-bum, though, the sounds drifting through Asheville’s downtown core made an exuberant cacophony: the thump-a-thump of hands slapping djembes, the ching-ca-ching of tambourines, the dong-dong of a cowbell and the shuff-a-shuff of shakers, the toc-toc of claves and the broo-roo of a didgeridoo, plus the sound of many hands clapping. It’s all part of the eight-year-old Friday night drum circle that takes place in Pritchard Park, a little landscaped triangle in the middle of this western North Carolina city.

On brick steps and boulders ringing the park sat silver-haired matrons in preppy knits, young Rastafarians in dreadlocks, elderly Asian ladies, bearded white men in dashikis, young kids with their parents and teenagers in flip-flops. In the center of the park, a handful of drummers manned huge kettle drums, and others shared congas or passed around beaded gourds, wooden blocks and bells. Dancers twirled, swayed and bounced in the warm summer breeze.

click-through for rest of article

[article found on awesome, friend-run]