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WB thinks it's charmed, but I, my friends, have been charmed.Feb 08 '01 Write an essay on this topic.
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The Bottom Line Only go see the Arkestra if you can allow absolute freedom from preconceived notions of Jazz. You will be blown away (whether that be good or bad).
Charmed! Charming, charming, charming. That’s all I left the theatre saying. Listen: Sun-Ra has come unstuck in time. Sun-Ra allowed me to listen to him after he had gone to sleep and left this particular moment. I actually learned (or as the English say-Learnt) of Sun-Ra as a result of his eulogy announced on MTV in 1993 (the same list of eulogies that announced the death of Professor Theremin). I saw my then heroes, Digable Planets, speaking, and the room was silenced. Then and there, Butterfly spoke of this other worldly character and how he will be missed. Immediately after, footage was shown. Wow!!! I remember an organ absolutely on fire, encased in a halo of gold lame’, with 2 hands playing 2 levels of keys, and 1 additional hand of his flipping numerous knobs & switches. I had to learn more (or as the English say, learn more). I found an album in the cut out bin of my local mall’s record store. So it goes. I purchased the very recent-release entitled ‘Blue Delight’. I took it home (my very first CD in fact), and didn’t find other worldly-ness. Instead, I found a good deal of dissonance speaking of jazz standards. It was a reminder of the Charles Mingus Jazz Workshop, or maybe even a more erratic version of Miles Davis Cool sessions. I was a bit disappointed that I didn’t get what I thought I was getting, but I actually was pleased none the less. So years passed. I had heard that he said he was from Saturn, but that has been cleared up since then. I now understand that he just visited Saturn. Last year (2000), I attended a performance of Tibetan Monks brought to a small rustic theatre by a very ambitious promoter locally, when it was announced he was bringing the mighty Sun-Ra Arkestra our way. The crowd went wild, and my friends and I pledged to be there. As you can imagine, many friends in our lives are too lazy to commit things to memory, and they fully understand the proportion of an event they missed after seeing the radiant glow I emitted for weeks afterwards. After a local high school Jazz band left the stage, the tribal drums began the rhythm that entrapped the audience/band for the remainder of the evening. As the tribal chants were added to the vibrations coming from the invisible rhythms, one by one the procession slowly marched onto the stage. No Jazz, just drums, chants, and Dime-store costumes. An ancient sage of a man took to the left (our left) of the stage to blow rapid fire shrapnel out of his tiny Alto sax/long white beard, which made apparent he was the tribes counterpoint, and he wasn’t to be fooled with. The lanky, rubber, 45 year old in the band began doing flips onstage (I swear I’m not making this up!). A leaflet of an Afro-centric woman in tights and a Dashiki floated from stage left, eclipsed the band, and exited stage right, only to reverse the situation minutes later. After an exhausting workout that lasted an estimated time of one song, the band called to the audience to make sure “they felt it”. That dork who feels obligated to stick out and draw attention to himself by over interacting at all the other concerts responded, then another, and another and another. We all became that dork! Then the band marched into the seating area. As each band member passed, I smelled the breath of each horn blast. I felt the wind of dashiki trails only to be caught by the next dashiki/ feather hat/ sequined vest/ etc… The trail of souls forced people to move out of their seats as if the band had just returned to their seats further down the aisle after getting that much needed tub of popcorn, but the audience clapped in rhythm, fully smiling, as they stood up to let the band pass. And back up the opposing aisle they went, returning to the stage, only to go back into the flips & leaf blowing “dances”. I have no idea how long I was there, because unlike that time my parents allowed me to go to the theatre to see ‘Beat Street’ all alone, I had no consciousness about time during this show. So it goes. I have still yet to buy a vintage Sun-Ra album. I, much like the Arkestra itself, am waiting for the day I become more than just ambivalent to Western society, so I too can devote myself to the cosmic commune of Minister Ra (but that has nothing to do with seeing the Arkestra live). Joe aka PappaWheelie  |
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