Paris Werewolves

The Emperor Quartet, throwing it down in Kapuzinerkirche , Vienna If Vienna is best known for anything, it is music. I wont argue the merits of Mozart vs. wienerschnitzel . Suffice it to say, Vienna excels at both but one just has more world-historical street cred than the other. Going to hear and see live music performances in Vienna is just about as easy as finding delicious  wienerschnitzel . Between the Staatsoper (State Opera House), the Konzerthaus , or just about every church and any kind of indoor space you can think of, you can get inexpensive tickets to hear superb musicians playing the great hits of yesteryear from Wolfgang Amadeus, Johann Sebastian ... and the rest. And it sounds lovely, and familiar, a truly beautiful and memorable experience for those of us whose only know European classical music from Bugs Bunny cartoons.   Think I saw this dude one time on Letterman. Vaguely remember a baby backup band. Not only is it easy to indulge in Eine Kleine Hohekultur ...

Chez Papa, 7th Arr. I've lamented elsewhere that professional jazz is bumping up against a cruel arithmetic logic—namely, the paying audience gets older each year, with more listeners going to their rewards than are replaced by younger fans going to the shows. That seems true for jazz played in concert venues and recorded for albums (or whatever passes for albums these days), but less so for jazz played purely for the joy of listening to or making music—that is, jazz as a form of folk art or communal expression. Two things have got me thinking about this lately. The first is that we've fallen into a nice routine of having lunch occasionally at Café de Mars, a neighborhood place that has a jazz duo every Saturday. The duo consists of an immensely talented guitarist who is joined by a few rotating accompanists on violin, cello, or second guitar. The set list is jazz standards, played usually in the Hot Club style with touches of Wes Montgomery, Kenny Burrell, and Barney Kessel. ...

Earlier this week we took in one of the shows at this year's Festival Jazz à Saint-Germain-de-Prés. Trumpeter Erik Truffaz's quintet was playing at the Odéon-Théâtre de l'Europe, a space for "les comédiens français" inaugurated by Marie Antoinette in 1782. Ceiling by André Masson (1965). The show was great, mostly an homage to film scores of classic noirs, the French new wave, and spaghetti westerns. For me, it really settled in about midway through when the program steered back to club jazz, including a duet for guitar and trumpet in the vein of Barney Kessel, and an accompaniment for two songs by a torch singer (whose name went past me in a blur of mumbled French). I could not bring myself to take photos during the show (etiquette, being present, etc.). From up in the balcony it was clear that many in the seats below were essentially recording the entire gig on their phones. I'm often struck by how much scorn is heaped on younger people for use and over-use ...