“Many Rivers to Cross” is, of course, the title of the great Jimmy Cliff song from the movie “The Harder They Come,” which was shown at the festival. It’s also descriptive of the city during the festival and the festival itself. Rivers of pedestrians flow down the sidewalks and rivers of bicycles and scooters claim a major portion of the streets. Cultural crosscurrents offer up fashions not normally seen in Knoxville, a mix of languages not typically heard on our streets, and the music floods the landscape, ignoring boundaries and trivialities like genres. It’s truly beautiful to experience.
I started my Saturday at 11:00 at the Bijou with Eiko Ishibashi providing a live score to the film Gift by Ryusuke Hamaguchi at the Bijou. The beautifully shot silent film set in Japan tells the story, accompanied with sparse captions, of a looming development project and the impact it will have on the people of the rural small town there. The visuals, the rising tension, and the live soundtrack by Ishibashi offered a powerful start to the day. Am I sure I understood the ending? Not completely, but we’ll let the mystery be.
Afterwards I stopped in for a portion of the elegant set by the three-person vocal trio (with double bass and trombone – I know, but it works) Tilt at First Presbyterian. Odd? Yes, but then this is Big Ears. And it was also beautiful. First Presbyterian had some great programing this time around. An option for those with limited mobility, or people wishing to avoid some of the louder, clankier, more skronky music, is to simply plant at one of the churches and let the music come to you. A perfectly good Big Ears experience could be had that way.
Next up, I walked back to the Bijou for two complete back-to-back shows featuring one of my absolute favorite Big Ears alums, trumpet player Wadada Leo Smith. The first show featured Wadada Leo Smith’s Revolutionary Fire-Love and the second set featured a duo of Smith and immensely talented pianist Vijay Iyer. The music covered the entire dynamic range, all under the watchful eye and direction of Smith. The man can make his trumpet whisper like no other human I’ve ever heard and then it can, by turns, be as raucous as any. Two great back-to-back shows in the comfort and acoustically wonderful Bijou. Not shabby.
I stopped in for some of the dreamy sonic landscapes offered up by instrumentalist, songwriter, and vocalist Julia Holter at the Tennessee Theatre, but made my way to the Civic Auditorium in time to catch the beginning and to enjoy the full show by Joe Lovano’s Paramount Quartet. It’s not your average quartet. The jazz/experimental group includes the masterful Julian Lage on guitar, along with Asante Santi Debriano and Will Calhoun. To watch the glow of appreciation on the musicians faces and the interaction between Lage and Lovano is a joy. This made the top tier of my Big Ears shows this year.
After a break, I returned to the Civic Auditorium for the Arooj Aftab show and found her mesmerizing and her vocals even more amazing for the fact that she was fighting a cold. Most of the concert was not offered English, though I’m not sure if the language she used was Arabic (she lived in Saudi Arabia until age ten) or Urdu (her parents are Pakistani, and she moved there at age ten). It didn’t matter. The music and her voice carried the message and when she sang in English, like for the beautiful song “Whiskey” the lyrics quietly and simply built an elegant tension.
Rolling off consecutive great shows, another favorite awaited in the rowdy fun of DakhaBrakha, a Ukrainian quartet playing the Tennessee. By turns hilarious and poignant, the show featured four musicians playing “Indian, Arabic, African, and Ukrainian traditional instrumentation.” Infectious rhythms, soaring vocals, complex harmonies and simply general bad-assedness marked their set.
Much of the performance was marked with humor but, inevitably, the plight of their homeland could not be ignored. A QR code displayed at one point led people to a link to donate for medical supplies. A graphic emphasized the disappearance of 19,000 children into RussiA and an auction at the end (which brought $3,000 for a piece of art) went to the cause. The crowd gave more than one standing ovation at the mention of U.S. support for Ukraine. The group seemed genuinely moved. Still, the joyful music remained the focus throughout the night offering a testament to the human spirit in the face of such tragedy.
After the DakhaBrakha show, I pulled a Big Ears maneuver and shifted plans. I’d been slated for a show at the Standard, which is my least favorite Big Ears venue, and the Tennessee show ran a little late, meaning I would have to fight the crowd there for a photograph or two. I chose a cool beverage at Brother Wolf, before getting a text from a friend telling me to get to the Blue Note Lounge where Don Was had taken residency as DJ.
His selected music, predictably great, fit the mood of the comfy “lounge” perfectly. Was has served as President of Blue Note Records since 2011 and the label sponsored the lounge. Comfy seating, a small stage, and lots of great Blue Note records filled the space. We chatted for a moment with Don (I call him “Don” now) and I made a mental note to come back for vinyl on Sunday (which I did, snagging four great albums I’m enjoying as I write this).
I walked over to the Mill and Mine for the final show of the night, but the show, scheduled for 11:30 hadn’t started at almost midnight, so I opted for sleep and walked home.
I’m with Lionel Ritchie when it comes to Sunday mornings — it should be easy. I started my day with the rapturous film, Amazing Grace featuring two hours of vintage Aretha Gospel Magic. I easily could have watched and listened for two more hours. What a shame that film can’t be streamed at this point.
Next up, I opted to return to the Blue Note Lounge. Side note: I would LOVE a space like that in our downtown devoted to jazz. Comfy seating, small stage, great music, whether live or DJ, album sales a bonus. I spoke to one of the Blue Note employees who said this was the first time they’d tried anything like it. It would kill in the village in NYC (where it is unaffiliated with the larger, famous Blue Note Jazz Club.
The event that drew me back to the Blue Note Lounge was a “Guitar Talk and Round Robin Performance” hosted by Joel Harrison with extraordinary guitarists Mary Halvorson, Brandon Ross, and Nels Cline. It offered another quiet moment for my Sunday and the conversation, and featured scintillating conversation paired with electric jams by different pairings of these amazing guitar players.
One favorite story came from Halvorson who said she’d landed on the elevator that morning with two gentlemen in town for the festival. She said the first asked the second how he was enjoying the jazz festival. “It’s not a jazz festival,” the other replied. “True,” said the first, “But it’s got more jazz than most jazz festivals.” Mary agreed, but the panel also discussed the idea that while their music often gets grouped with jazz for a lack of an obvious alternative, they consider it beyond genre. Also fair.
I took my second walk to The Point. Given where it is on the festival footprint, I generally find other things to do, but it really doesn’t take that long to walk there, and I was excited to hear guitarist Marisa Anderson. The classically trained Anderson has played every genre but performing a solo set at The Point, she served up lush guitar finger picking using an open tuning. In some respects, it was refreshingly simple: One guitar, one tuning. Technically complex, the music harkened back to references in the country blues, jazz, and all points beyond. An absolutely delightful show. One of my favorites.
I did a couple of drop-ins afterward, watching probably a half hour of Macie Stewart at Regal Square before stopping in for a few minutes of Wadada Smith’s set at Mill and Mine. I got a little restless with the music at the first show and the chairs were killing me. At the second show, music stands made photographing very difficult. One person told me I could not sit in the VIP section (where photographers have always sat) and another told me I could not enter the balcony, which is where photographers have always shot and it’s the only place to get a shot of the entire stage. It was weird because, outside of Mill and Mine, this was the easiest, most accommodating Big Ears Festival ever for photographers. Gave me a bad vibe, so I left.
In between all of the above, I had some great sushi and a glass of wine at the Marble City Food Hall and hung out with friends and friends of friends for a bit. The place is such a great asset, and I think the food has really improved. Unfortunately, they continue to miss the late-night business at Big Ears by closing so early. I just don’t understand.
I rarely make it to the very final shows of the festival, opting instead to pull up after what often turns out to be a magical ending to the festival. Such was the case this year with the 8:00 pm Civic Auditorium performance with Rufus Wainwright. The solo show (except for a couple of numbers with a friend he brought on stage) featured Wainwright on vocals, guitar, and piano.
I was taken with his proficiency on piano, particularly, as I’d thought of him as more of a songwriter. We first fell in love with his gorgeous music for the soundtrack of Brokeback Mountain. Funny, talented, more than a little political, the show felt pitch-perfect from beginning to ending. I couldn’t ask for a better send-off, so I was home by 10 pm.
It was another great festival. I had fewer “finds” this year, focused a lot on jazz and on artists I’ve come to love, but have seen before. While there may not have been many “if you missed this, you missed the best show” moments, many shows were absolutely wonderful. Maybe the Wow factor gets blunted a bit after so many great Big Ears moments. Maybe we all come to understand that our Wow moment may be different from someone else’s. It’s all part of the river and it’s all beautiful. I can’t wait for next year!