On Monday, July 11, at 8:30 PM, Gabrielle Stravelli and Michael Kanan will create one set of glorious music at the Cornelia Street Cafe in Greenwich Village, New York. Here is the event page with all the necessary information.
This event is truly exciting, both as a celebration of the CD above, and as a pure expression of loving music. Consider this:
That performance is something I marvel at, over and over. And at the Cafe, Gabrielle and Michael will be performing songs from the CD as well as some that do not appear on it.
The CD can be purchased through iTunes and CDBaby. (Of course, the best way to purchase it is directly from the artists, so a connection both personal and financial takes place, but you already knew that.)
I am thrilled that it exists, and perhaps excessively proud of my small part in it: the liner notes that I offer here:
Gabrielle Stravelli and Michael Kanan create rare beauty. Whenever I’ve heard them, singly or in duet, I’ve marveled. I feel as alive as I will ever be, with tears in my eyes and an astonished uncontrollable smile.
Their art is heartfelt and subtle. It takes devotion to be so at one with the music, to create drama without being dramatic. They serve the song, words and music. They make the most familiar song seem fresh, but never distort it in the name of innovation.
These performances were recorded in The Drawing Room, that gratifying yet unassuming Brooklyn shrine to music, on February 8, 2105. It was an honor to experience such music, to witness it being created.
The rapport between Michael and Gabrielle is intuitive. It is trust set to music. They travel the same path as dear friends, serious about their work but light-hearted in play. The results are quiet rather than showy yet always convincing, an love-offering of improvised nuances, not rehearsed gestures. Even when the material they choose is dark, tenderness shines through. They are at once serene and agile, poets who never insist on Being Poetic.
I don’t know what their religious beliefs are, and it would be impudent to inquire. But these performances seem fully realized secular hymns to music, to feeling. Gabrielle and Michael offer us hopeful visions of exalted possibilities.
My praise might make them seem too deeply serious, as if listening to their music was weighty spiritual homework. Not so. Doom is never one of the specials on their menu, and you can hear them smiling when the song calls for it. Their work is characterized by ease and wise patience. They don’t rush. They allow each moment to emerge as it will, to blossom and turn sunward. They delight in a rubato forward motion that never loses the pulse.
Gabrielle’s voice has many rooms, each one painted a different color. It can move from a hushed half-whisper to the insistent meow of a Siamese cat or the wry curl of a New York Italian adolescent, amused by what she’s just seen on the street, to an expressive, rangy open voice, dark and warm in its lower register, bright and soaring above. She has beautiful diction and she never obliterates the lyric; rather, her phrasing makes meaning deeper. Only she can make me accept the “idea” / “Maria” rhyme in SO RARE, which fact I offer as great tribute.
Michael’s touch is sensitive; his harmonies remarkable. He surprises but never shocks. He honors Jimmie Rowles by not imitating him. His phrases breathe in inspiring ways. His playing is spare yet rich, with a singing expressiveness. He knows that the piano has an entire orchestra within it, but his creations always sound translucent rather than insistent. His is an art where every detail matters and resonates long after the struck note has died away. As an accompanist he gives wondrously, wanting only that others sound even better than they thought they could.
With stories full of sweet truths, Gabrielle and Michael invite us to open the secret door in the attic, revealing the stairway to the stars. Through their music, we climb to a rare joy.
So I urge you earnestly to come to the Cornelia Street Cafe on Monday, July 11, 2016, for this blessing in music. The music begins at 8:30. The doors open at 8. There is a $10 cover and a $10 food/beverage minimum. Call (212) 989-9319 for reservations or reserve online at www.corneliastreetcafe.com.
A few postscripts. I will be there, as close to the music as I can get, beaming at these two artists whom I admire so much. But I will be there as a mere human being, which is to say someone without a camera. And the Cafe has informed me that due to budgetary restrictions, they will not be able to provide each patron of the arts with a lazy daisy. You’re on your own.
May your happiness increase!