Letter

I’ve been spending a lot of the time at the Skylark lately. I have two weekly shifts working door there, as well as the occasional fill-in shift if one of the other doormen need a night off. So, as with any place I spend significant time at, there will inevitably be drawings and paintings. I can only do small sketches during work shifts, but I’ve started coming in early or on off days to work on paintings as well. Not sure yet how many there’ll be, but this is the first finished one. I’ve made prints of it available here. 

Luc Sante has been one of my favorite writers for many years. I shared my review of his new book with you a couple weeks back. Thursday he came to town for a reading and talk, moderated by my friend JC Gabel. Afterwards, we all went for a drink at a bar where another friend (Bill Savage) bartends. It’s a great thing when someone who’s work you admire also turns out to be a good guy. Luc and I had a good talk about the immigrant experience, music, and other things, in between drinks and takeout from Hema’s Kitchen, which JC was kind enough to deliver to the bar. 

Speaking of that bar, Bill commissioned me to do this painting of it for the owner. It may well be gracing its walls within a week or two. Meanwhile, if you’re fond of Cunneen’s, or just like this painting, you may procure a print of it right here…

On Monday I went to see Joe Jackson play Thalia Hall. I’d never seen him play live but have known his songs since I was a kid. “Steppin’ Out” and “Breaking Us in Two” in particular are lodged so deep I don’t really remember life without them. It’s dangerous to see a show like this. Dangerous because the relationship with the music is so intense that having it externalized can’t help but disappoint, right?

He didn’t disappoint. As soon as he sat down at the keyboard and started into “It’s Different For Girls” I had tears streaming down my face. He didn’t do all the songs I wanted, but maybe that would’ve been too much to ask. There was a tophat sitting next to his seat and I wondered whether he was saving it for a dance number, but late in the show he picked it up, reached in, and picked out a slip of paper, explaining he chooses a different cover to do each night this way. That night it was a vocal version of “The Peter Gunn Theme” he’d recently learned from Sarah Vaughn. I’m glad I went. 

Friday my friend Wendy asked me to come draw the premiere performance of a new flamenco piece.

Drawing dancers isn’t easy but I enjoyed it. The music—played on guitar, violin,and bass—was beautiful.

Having it punctuated and underlined by the dancers’ tapping, pounding shoes gave it a whole other level of intensity.

Saturday I went to an early, “intimate’ set by Fred & Toody Cole of the long-running band Dead Moon at the Empty Bottle.

What “intimate” usually means is quieter or softer, in this context, but they bashed out their tunes just like they would’ve with a drummer and bigger amplifiers. These two have been at it for so long yet they show no sign of quit. Not surprisingly, many of their songs are about persistence, of going on despite long odds. Watching them keep going was inspiring. It wasn’t a nostalgia trip, but a way forward.

A few months ago I discovered that there was a way up to the roof of my building just outside my front door. I invested in a ladder, went up there once, then didn’t think of it again till a couple weeks ago. This time I dragged my French easel and paints up there and these are the first couple results.

I’ve never been much for painting outdoors but this may actually work out. I can see in all directions from up there and when it’s not too windy—a canvas acts pretty much like a sail given the chance—it’s not a bad way to spend a few hours.