Sunday, we returned from a mini-tour of Kansas clubs, playing at The Brick in Kansas City, The Artichoke in Wichita, and finally the Emma Chase Cafe in Cottonwood Falls. Clubs? A string quartet in clubs? Yes, you're reading correctly. Since this summer, we have been planning to blaze a new path, presenting performances in bars, galleries, clubs, and other spaces more intimate than the typical concert hall. With the help of our new manager, we began our club tours with appearances in Lincoln Nebraska (our home base), Brooklyn, Houston, Manhattan (NY), Massachusetts, and just this past week, Kansas.
Why play in clubs? We have noticed that performances in smaller spaces tend to be much more vibrant for the audience. In addition, by playing in spaces not normally associated with a string quartet, we plan to test our theory that this music is really great even for people who actively avoid listening to "classical music" or who at least have never attended concerts, including a younger variety of audience member than is traditionally seen in a concert hall. In short, we hope to show that in fact, classical music in general (and string quartet in particular) is not just alive, but in fact needs no "dumbing down" in order to appeal directly to what most classical-minded folks refer to as an "uneducated audience." Uneducated audience - what an unfortunate term! It implies both that the music is too complex to simply like it, and that the people listening are too dumb or lazy to make the proper effort to grasp the complexity.
So, to our great surprise and delight, we have had nothing but positive feedback from our audiences, and even from the press. At the Brick, the audience was about 130 people, packed in with barely any standing room, and they screamed after we finished each movement. Jonah (our violist) told the audience we were testing the waters bringing string quartet into a club, and they literally roared, one guy shouting "FINALLY!!"
For our performances in clubs, we like to split up multi-movement pieces and re-formulate the movements in an order that interests us, so that we can create a more dynamic sense of expectation, a sense of "whoa, what will they do next?" This also banishes the traditional taboo against clapping between movements, something that typically turns off a neophyte at a classical concert. It's hard to enjoy a performance when you're worried about liking it "too much" or liking it in the wrong way. Also, with different acoustical challenges at each club, we re-assess our set list at the door, sometimes dropping movements that may be too quiet, sometimes re-ordering pieces so that the music is even more intimate than our original plan. The idea of choosing what to play onstage or even the same day as the concert is completely foreign to the classical world, where presenters ask for complete program information a year in advance or more, in order to advertise a complete season to their subscribers.
At the Brick, we were scheduled to go on at about 9 PM, but the warmup band, the Jeff Harshbarger Trio, a jazz group that mysteriously featured four musicians for this gig, didn't start playing until about 9:15ish, so we grabbed a table in the back of the bar. As we sat, more and more people arrived, ranging from gray-haired people who looked a bit frightened to 30somethings clearly comfortable with the surroundings. I even played a game of Judge Dredd pinball on the bar's pinball machine, something decidedly absent from the backstage of Carnegie Hall. Another big difference between Carnegie Hall and the clubs we've played in thus far: Carnegie Hall has a backstage area. We have to just run on stage and begin playing in clubs.
After Jeff's trio finished their half hour set, we went up on stage, and set up. The Brick has a sound guy who is quite good, and so he set up some nice microphones and we did a sound check. 4 speaking mics, and 2 central mics for the quartet sound, so that it picks up a more accurate blend than individual instrument mics. In the future, when funds allow, we plan to purchase special instrument mics that fit on the bridge and take them with us, but the Brick's setup was good for now. It's very weird to do all of the backstage preparation on stage, but the audience is used to this kind of thing in a bar.
We began with the introduction to Jefferson Friedman's 3rd Quartet, a great quartet that we commissioned with help from Brooklyn Friends of Chamber Music in 2005, and premiered in New York's Alice Tully Hall. This movement is spectacular for opening a club set because it opens with a 30 second crescendo from nothing and then launches into an intense 2-minute ride. For the rest of the first set, we played Mozart's K. 465 first movement followed by Kansas City-based Zhou Long's "Song of the Ch'in" (1982), then we played the "Romanze" from Brahms's C Minor String Quartet, "Chasqui" from Gabriela Frank's Leyendas, an Andean Walkabout, and finally a cover tune. The cover is Prince's "Go Crazy" arranged by Jeff Louie for quartet. It's a fun tune, and is another experiment for us. After a short break, we played the complete Icefield Sonnets by Pierre Jalbert, a 3 movement work based on poetry of Anthony Hawley (who happens to be our first violinist Becca's husband). Before each movement, Becca read the corresponding poem. To close off the set, we played the last movement of the Brahms C Minor quartet. The crowd demanded an encore, and so we obliged with the slow movement from the Mozart K. 465 quartet.
Afterwards, we hung around to get our free beers and talked with Jeff Harshbarger and to a few audience members who stayed around. This wasn't the kind of conversation you have after a classical concert. You know, "where did you study" "why did you choose to play that new piece, it is very interesting" "do you know X quartet?" No, we talked about where you can find the best barbecue in KC, hilarious band moments and had a generally great time.
The next morning, after a great lunch at Arthur Bryant's, we drove to Wichita. We weren't expecting much, as one audience member had quipped that Wichita is like Detroit without the charm, but it turned out to be a nice town, not unlike other midwest towns we've played in (South Bend, IN, Peoria, IL, etc.) Around dinner time we headed over to the Artichoke. Unlike the Brick, if 130 people had tried to fit into the Artichoke, there would be no room for oxygen. The Artichoke is small, and fits the stereotype of a classic, heartwarming dive where you might expect there to be an occasional fight, all in good fun, of course. The sign outside reads "FRI CHIARA. GREEN BEER ON TAP SAT." There is a speaker with 4 cables we can "plug into" which almost qualifies as a sound system. We decide to go acoustic for this night.
For about 3/4 of the club dates, we have used no amplification at all for our instruments, but this is the first time we've not used speaking mics. We started with the Friedman as usual. Unlike the Brick, the TV is still on, showing a basketball game of Kansas State, although the volume is muted. The hood fans in the kitchen are making enough noise to be disturbing, and we are squeezed into the corner with not quite enough room to play. My goal in life for the next few hours will be not to accidentally kill Jonah or Julie with my bow. Mid-set, we realize that the Zhou Long, which is ethereal and quiet for much of the movement, will not work, and so we switch out our set list onstage. This first set becomes Friedman, Mozart, Leyendas "Chasqui", Brahms C Minor first movement, and the Prince. Backstage, we rework the second set, so that it starts with Leyendas "Tarqueada" followed by the second Icefield Sonnet "Glass is a Place," then the last movement of Brahms's C Minor quartet. For an encore, we play Leyendas "Coqueteos."
The bar's owner Pat, who wears a gray T-shirt with "USMC" in black letters, appears right before the first set. He makes a terse but warm announcement midway saying the cover is $5 and goes to help pay for our gas money, and aren't we a great band? We've never been referred to as a "band" but it feels like the right thing, even as we launch into a movement of Brahms. Pictures at the show were taken by Wichita-based photographer Bruce Ward.
After the show, the audience of about 25 gives us a standing ovation, and many come up to talk with us. One woman insists that classical music is in fact dying because it is so snobby, but that we are keeping it alive with what we are doing, and that the Prince was beautiful, beautiful music. I even meet a cellist who is looking at going into music as a career and may audition for UNL where we teach. He stood behind the bar, just over my shoulder for the entire second set watching the music intently. We find out from our spies that in fact the feeling of needing to play louder was an illusion, the kitchen hood fan noise did not transmit beyond the corner where we were playing. What a relief! When getting the cover money from the owner, he tells us that two audience members insisted on paying $50 rather than the $5 cover charge, another nice surprise.
The next morning, we set out for Cottonwood Falls, a little town in the Flint Hills of Kansas. The drive is gorgeous, we took the scenic byway 177 off of the Kansas Turnpike. Our hotel, the Prairie Fire Inn and Spa, is a one-story drive-up 10-room hotel that is very quaint, but inexplicably has wireless internet. Times are a-changing.
When we head over to the Emma Chase Cafe, the proprietor, Sue, is ready for us, and serves up a marvelous meal for dinner. The menu is a choice of either Irish Stew or Corned Beef, although she makes a delicious baked potato with vegetables for Becca as a special accomodation (Becca's a vegetarian). Sue, like many of the people we met, is truly salt-of-the-earth, down home, good people. One of the patrons asks us in a thick accent if we're the orchestra playing tonight, and tells us how excited he is to hear us.
The cafe seats maybe 35 people, but we've heard that over 100 tickets were sold 3 weeks ago. They mystery is solved when she takes us next door to the venue we will perform in. 130 seats or so are arranged in a semi-circle around our chairs. There will be no food or drink served while we perform. Immediately we realize that this not only is this much closer to a concert hall than a rock club, the audience is used to "pickin'" rather than rock or jazz, and so we re-arrange our set lists. For the first half, we will begin with the Mozart first movement, followed by the Zhou Long, then the second movement of the Mozart, and we'll play the entire Icefield Sonnets and finish with "Chasqui" from Leyendas. For the second half, we'll begin with the complete Brahms C minor, and finish with "Coqueteos" from Leyendas.
As we warm up an hour and a half before the show, more than half of the audience shows up to ensure they will get good seats. By the time we finish our warm-up, it is just 6:30, but 3/4 of the seats are occupied. At 7:30, Sue heads out and warms up the crowd, asking folks where they drove in from. There are audience members from Kansas City (2 hour drive), Lawrence (2 hour drive), Topeka (1 hour) and all of the surrounding communities. After her warm introduction, we played the first set.
Becca and Anthony have brought along their 2 1/2-year old, Oriana, on this trip. The plan tonight was for Anthony to read the poetry before each of the Icefield Sonnets movements, but right after he introduces the piece to the audience, Oriana, who was sleeping in the car, woke up. Becca stood in as his stunt double, and we played the first two sonnets. For the third sonnet, Anthony walked up with Oriana in one arm and his book in the other, and without missing a beat, read the poem.
In the second set, after we finished the last movement of the Brahms, the audience leapt to its feet. Julie leaned over to me and said "let's finish it now," meaning "let's not play the Leyendas." Talk about improvisatory last minute set changes! For an encore, Becca played "O Danny Boy" in honor of St. Patrick's Day.
After we finished, the audience, most of whom had patiently waited almost 2 hours before the show, cleared out in less than 3 minutes (it was getting dark, time to go home and go to sleep), and we went over to the Emma Chase for hot chocolate.
3 days, and 3 completely different universes, all within the state we call Kansas. On all three nights, we didn't make nearly as much money as we can make playing in a concert hall, but there was something magical. The audience seemed to find a deeper and more exciting meaning in what we are doing than we had even imagined to be possible. We came out of the experience absolutely exhausted, but convinced that this is the right thing for us to be doing right now. Even though we are filling next season to the brim with traditional concerts, the club tours will be a prominent feature of our schedule, and I hope we see you at one of them.
Truly, there's nothing like hearing a great performance of a string quartet in a great acoustic space, but as we're discovering there's also nothing quite like hearing a string quartet with your friends in a club over a beer!
