Tag Archives: picnic

RIPENESS IS ALL: JAZZ ON THE VINE AT CLINE CELLARS (July 13, 2013)

Might I remind my Northern California friends of something good (“algo bueno,” as Dizzy Gillespie would have said) on Saturday, July 13, 2013?

JazzFestPoster_2013

Some details.  You might want to take notes here.  Five venues, music going on simultaneously — the BARREL ROOM, the MISSION, the GREAT LAWN, the TASTING ROOM DECK, and the PIANO CORNER.  The bands are listed above; the piano sessions feature Ray Skjelbred, Bob Hirsch, Virginia Tichenor, and the Ragtime Skedaddlers.  Music from 11:00 AM to 6:30 PM, which is jazz enough for anyone.  In beautiful Sonoma, too!

And — the way things go at beautiful establishments like Cline Cellars — I have reason to expect there will be wonderful beverages in glasses and delicious things to eat . . . . for you to purchase.  My previous dealings with Cline have all been more than pleasant, even though this is the first Day of the Dixieland I have been to.  So I am looking forward to great combinations, say MABEL’S DREAM with a glass of zinfandel . . . anything is possible!

Picnic-Basket-Buttermilk-Fried-Chicken

I also hear tell that you can bring your own picnic, but be sure to bring more than you need, so that you can offer your jazz heroes and heroines a piece of fried chicken, a hard-boiled or deviled egg: playing jazz is hungry work.  They’ll love you for it.

Details and tickets here.

May your happiness increase! 

SPLENDOR IN THE GRASS, or PICNIC WITH ME

A little jeu d’esprit for today:

To be precise, this is a 78 rpm “picture record” on the Vogue label, circa 1945.  Musically it is probably far removed from hot jazz, but it’s the playful Forties cheesecake that caught my eye.  This young woman, attired in clothing that manages to be both tight and short, is reclining — after a fashion — on a blanket in the middle of an undefined meadow.  Although picnics are usually informal occasions, she has on alarmingly high heels and seems to be levitating from the blanket.  (Perhaps she is lifting her legs so she doesn’t collide with the pasted-in image of bandleader Kassel, grinning somewhere under her knees.)

To her left (although she is not registering it in her field of vision) conveniently there is a small portable phonograph . . . and a large anonymous hand (parodying the Sistine Chapel ceiling?) is offering her a phonograph record-replica of the larger scene, complete with lovely young woman and generous hand. 

The mind reels, and the recording isn’t even spinning.

DOODLE DOO DOO indeed.