Eclectic Company: Running Behinder Every Day

“Well, in our country,” said Alice, still panting a little, “you'd generally get to somewhere else – if you run very fast for a long time, as we've been doing.”

“A slow sort of country!” said the [Red] Queen. “Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place. If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!”

I looked up the deadline for filing my “Pazz & Jop” ballot for The Village Voice’s annual critics’ poll on the Friday night before Christmas, and discovered that the time had gotten away from me, and I’d just missed it. Have you noticed that as it gets to the end of the year, time speeds up by a factor of 10? Like Alice and the Red Queen, I find I’m doing a heckuva lot of running just to stay in the same place. With three other year-end polls to go, I’m actually writing this on Christmas night, at the Massachusetts home of my friends Alan and Helene, who take in strays for fabulous meals. Stuffed but not sleepy, I decided to catch up, if I could, while the rest of the world is drowsing.

I had a few great musical experiences recently that I wanted to mention: In San Francisco, I sang chanteys and sea songs with 200 others on board the square-rigger Balclutha in the San Francisco Maritime National Historical Park. My pal Laura dragged me to the free monthly singalong with promises of hot cider and hot chocolate, assuring me I’d know all the songs. Park Ranger and house “band” at the ready, the pump primed by regulars, we were off almost on time, and for nearly four hours, with short breaks, we happily yo-ho-hoed and haul-away-Joed on the chanteys — the call-and-response songs working sailors sang to move together in rhythm, hauling ropes to raise sails, and turning the capstan (a winch) to weigh (raise) anchor, among other shipboard jobs. Though tending toward bawdy, chanteys are generally colorful rather than scatalogical, with stories and boasts and catcalling in double entendre and sailor’s cant, and are loads of fun to sing.

I was especially taken with a modern sea song written by the late, great polymath Shel Silverstein, who was successfully creative in many artistic genres. He wrote popular children’s books: Where The Sidewalk Ends, The Giving Tree, and A Light In The Attic, drew cartoons for Sports Illustrated and Playboy, penned poems, 100+ one-act plays, and songs as diverse as “A Boy Named Sue” for Johnny Cash, “The Cover of the Rolling Stone” for Dr. Hook & the Medicine Show, and “In The Hills of Shiloh” sung by Judy Collins and many others. In “The Mermaid” Silverstein tells the tale of two fishy sisters, one who’s a woman from the waist up, the other a woman from the waist down. A few succulent verses convey the warning that a young man seeking the Mermaid won’t like the beautiful siren, and so it proves: “From her head to her waist she was my taste but the bottom part was a fish.” Then the Mermaid is lured from our hero with a millionaire’s diamond dangled like bait on a hook, and so he loses her. But soon the singer’s fortunes change, and you can imagine his delight when he meets her sister: “Just then her sister swam on by, and set my heart awhirl . . . Her body it's a work of art and I love that girl with all my heart / And I don't give a damn about the upper part . . . .”

My San Francisco visit was capped by a pre-Christmas concert featuring British pianist Terry Disley, whose top-drawer “Big Experience” jazz septet — Disley, the incomparable, clear-toned Erik Jekabson, subtle on both trumpet and flugelhorn (exceedingly hard to do, and bravo), Joe Cohen’s big warm tones on alto and tenor sax, Sheldon Brown rhapsodic on flute, clarinet, soprano and tenor sax, Gary Brown on bass, Jason Lewis on drums and dancing heartthrob Marquinho Brasil on percussion — performed “The Jazzcracker Suite,” a Miles Davis/Bill Evans meet Tchaikovsky mashup featuring familiar themes from the “Nutcracker Suite.” Disley’s a former studio pianist/keyboardist for UK rockers like Paul McCartney, Bryan Ferry, Van Morrison, Mick Jagger and Madness, among many others. His piano style and arrangements are light, smooth and engaging; his sound reminded me of Dave Brubeck’s “Take Five” and Vince Guaraldi’s “Peanuts Theme,” both of whom Disley’s played in tribute. His musical choices are accessible and smart, and he’s made himself popular introducing listeners to fresh, tuneful jazz, which is a fine goal, as jazz, like sushi, is not everyone’s cup of tea. Disley’s got chops to spare, but he knows how to restrain himself, letting his stellar band take most of the honors. I left replete with sushi and new twists on old works ringing in my ears.

Having had my appetite whetted by the Jazzcracker, I had to stop in to see the Cuban-born Boston-based Jose Mateo’s ballet company performing The Nutcracker, the story of a young girl, and an enchanted prince trapped in a wooden nutcracker, who’s saved, naturally, by the girl, with help from her dollmaker Godfather, from rats and other perils, and is elevated beyond his former status to become King of the Land of the Sweets. The musical themes give scope for a large corps de ballet of children, adolescents, and adults to dance the story of the enchantment and rescue, and the reception in the Land of the Sweets at which the brave girl and the Prince are feted with delicious treats from many cultures, and performances that culminate in an elaborate pas de deux. My friend and daughter of my hosts, Kate, was part of the technical crew, which is how I got the inside scoop, and my neighbor in the orchestra was a small girl whose classmates were among the “polichinelles,” or bon-bons, in the Land of the Sweets, which is how I got to see the ballet through a happy child’s eyes. Mateo himself was fabulous as the Godfather, and the entire company was delicious. Food, holiday food, a feast for all the senses. Wish you’d been there.