Will Knox; Recharging the Relationship Between Music and Art

I can’t think of a better place for a singer-songwriter to display his or her craft in its rawest form, than at the Lower East Side’s Rockwood Music Hall. The space that holds Stage 1 is roughly the size of a studio apartment, and the exposed brick walls and minuscule stage add to that bare-bones sentiment.

I hadn’t been to the venue in a few years, but after browsing a recent amNY article about an alternative/folk singer, my interest was piqued. Will Knox, a British transplant who now resides in Brooklyn, became disenchanted by the fact that physical art has lost its prominence in music. Since the advent of digital downloads, the need for album art is almost nonexistent. And while digital booklets available on iTunes offer fans a one-dimensional version of traditional liner notes, there is something to be said of holding a fantastic record sleeve or imaginative CD booklet in your hands.

With that in mind, Knox created a comic book to accompany his latest EP Lexicon. The book, illustrated by Robin Ha, details the tragic story of a man overcoming life’s hurdles. It is with this effort that Knox aims to reconnect the long-standing relationship between music and art.

Knox began his performance at Rockwood with the song “Belly of the Beast,” off The Matador & The Acrobat, which was inspired by living in New York. We were given a glimpse into his jovial manor throughout the hour-long set, when he cheerfully exclaimed, “I really like writing songs, which is very convenient when you’re a songwriter.”

He then transitioned into “Footprints on the Moon,” which exemplified the clear, velvety quality of Knox’s vocals. He proved the strength of his voice by, what I can only describe as, yodeling in a few songs, most notably in Lexicon’s brilliant “Ice Capades.”

His third selection off The Matador & The Acrobat was “Buckled Knees.” During the show, Knox declared his dissatisfaction with L.A., a feeling he partially attributed to the fact that he doesn’t know how to drive, and one he details in this tune. Due to the acoustic nature of the set, we couldn’t experience the fleshed out version of the song, which boasts a banjo and a fiddle. However, his tongue-in-cheek lyrics - “On my way to join the circus that they call Hell A … I’m as empty as the pockets of my skin-tight jeans” - filled that void.

Accompanying the set was drummer Timur Yussef, who sat unassumingly in a corner off the bite-size stage and carried each song with his skillful use of mallets and brushes.

Ari Herstand joined Knox and Yussef on stage for the beautiful love song “The Ship and the Storm,” playing trumpet, and “Cog in the Machine,” playing piano. Before performing “Cog in the Machine,” the singer let us in on a secret of his. “I miss having long hair,” he explained, “there’s so many things you can do with long hair, like ponytails … well, I guess that’s about it actually.” Corny as it sounds, it was a humorous intro to a song that resonated with almost everyone present - a song about being unhappy with your job. Unfortunate as it may be, many of us find ourselves as cogs in a machine. It is also worth noting that the song’s video deserves a look. While Knox sings, his now regretful haircut is documented in reverse.

To add to the comedic undertone present during the show, Alec Gross was welcomed to the stage for a rendition of the song he co-wrote with Knox, “The Ballad of Frankenstein.” The final selection off Lexicon was “Bullets.” This bluegrass-infused pop ballad was one of the nights more upbeat songs. To end the night, Knox spared no emotion while singing “Immigrant Hands.” As an immigrant himself, he told the crowd he was inspired to write this song after taking his mother to Ellis Island. Whether you or your parents, grandparents or great-grandparents are immigrants, the song was incredibly relatable. It spoke vividly to his experience in this country and his ability to create a vision through song.

Art and storytelling were central themes of Will Knox’s performance. And while he has come of age in the digital age, he still believes wholeheartedly in the relationship between traditional art forms and music. Through his songs and comic book, he is successfully perpetuating that concept.

A Family Affair

Last weekend I went upstate for the christening of my cousin Brant's two children, Sean and Katelyn. With the exception of my Aunt Rosie and Uncle Ed, it's not often that we get together with all of my dad's family, so I was really looking forward to it. For starters, Brant and his wife Tara live in this beautifully restored farmhouse in Putnam County, that dates back to 1820. Needless to say, my historical-house aficionado parents (and myself) were enraptured. Homes back then were built with such character, from the wide-plank wooden floors to the detailed molding on every door frame and fire place. Brant is an expert handyman and crafted this 190-year-old home into a modern day country-chic abode.

Lake Carmel, Putnam County, New York

As is common at christenings, there were little kids everywhere. One particularly curly haired little boy named Donavan, inspired me to tuck his name away in my back pocket, as a possible name for a little boy of my own one day. (In the far off future, I reassured my family.) What can I say, I have a thing for Irish boy names. The crème de la crème, however, were Brant and Tara's two ridiculously adorable kids.

My mom and Katelyn

Sean is almost two-and-a-half and Katelyn three months - you just want to eat them both up. Katelyn reminds me of my sister Kerry, who had enough rolls in her arms and legs as a baby to feed a small family. I don't know what it is about fat babies, but they melt my heart. While Sean was off playing with the other kids, humorously slipping down the Slip N' Slide, me and my mom couldn't get enough of Katelyn. Unfortunately, the poor thing has acid reflux (!) and has to take a special medicine after her bottle. My cousin Dan's girlfriend Yasmin learned this the hard way, after being the lucky recipient of a healthy dose of baby spit up. I was lucky enough to steal her away from my Uncle Jeff and hold her for an hour. And while her pudgy little feet popped open the buttons on my dress, giving everyone a very unintended view of my midrift, I loved every moment.

What a face!

After a wonderful day, I took Metro North back into the city with Dan and Yasmin. In fact, we almost missed the train because Dan was saddled with the important task of filling a cooler with beer for the trip. (Did I mention we were Irish?) Between the cold beers and entertaining stories, it was a perfect ending to the day.

I guess I just have a soft spot in my heart for family, and fat babies, because I got home feeling really happy. For me, no matter what else is going on in life, it's always comforting to recharge the ol' battery with family.

Sunday Stroll

Today, I embarked on a journey. A journey that took Lindsey, Roe and I three and a half hours; down 2nd Avenue, into the bowels of the Lower East Side, through Chinatown, over The Brooklyn Bridge and straight to Grimaldi's.

A leisurely stroll down 2nd Avenue, from 93rd Street to East Houston, and then through Chinatown, speaks volumes to the unique sights and sounds New York City offers its pedestrians. Our ultimate goal was to walk over The Brooklyn Bridge and treat ourselves to a well deserved pie at Grimaldi's. On a clear day like today, the views from the bridge are exceptional. Pier 17 in the South Street Seaport, the Financial District, Governors Island and the Statue of Liberty, Midtown glimmering off in the distance - it's beautiful.

As we walked through The East Side's varying neighborhoods we took in the surroundings. And while the questionable smells of raw seafood on Market Street didn't exactly wet our appetites, the aroma of freshly baked pizza in Brooklyn sure did.

I must be honest, after waiting in line for over an hour at Grimaldi's, the consensus was that this wasn't the BEST pizza we'd ever eaten, but it was damn good.

For our return trip, we walked over The Manhattan Bridge. The views don't match up to those offered by The Brooklyn Bridge and the rattle of the elevated N train isn't the greatest for conversation but it's still a pretty cool walk. (Try not to walk into the chain link fences like I did though, it really hurts :P)

Sundays are normally thought of as lazy days, and while mine usually are, it is nice to get out there and hit the pavement. Lace up those sneakers, slap on the sunblock and go forth!

The Stage: A Love Story

It's the same scenario every time: the lights dim, the curtain rises and a small lump forms in my throat. Like clockwork, the sound of the overture causes my eyes to mist over and soon enough my vision is blurred. For three hours I am enraptured; my heart swells with each note and every expertly choreographed dance routine is shuffled along with under my seat. Broadway has a way with me.

A few weeks ago my family and I saw Anything Goes in the newly minted Stephen Sondheim Theatre. I was especially thrilled to see this 1930's Cole Porter classic for three reasons; Stephen Sondheim was the God of my high school theatre class, Sutton Foster - the star of Anything Goes - delighted audiences in Thoroughly Modern Millie (a tap heavy production from 2000) and it was the first broadway show I was seeing with my Grandma. My Grandmother Vera danced her way into The Roxy Theatre in the 1940's and was a member of the famed Radio City Rockettes. Maybe it's just in my blood, but as soon as I could walk, I wanted nothing more than to dance. Through freshman year of college I danced tap, jazz, ballet and lyrical and was unabashedly in love with every hard working moment. There's nothing like the feeling of sashaying onto a stage, overcome with emotion.

With my Grandma and sister Kerry before Mrs. Pearsall's Dance Studio recital, elementary school

Techniques Dance Studio, 2002

In junior high I began to fulfill my other passion; theatre. I was graciously accepted into the On Tour drama program at Calhoun High School under the stern/Beatle-obsessed instruction of Mr. Sal Salerno, who we just called Sal. We were theatre geeks through-and-through, playing hooky to come into Manhattan to see Le Mis and Rent. To be in On Tour meant the wonderful privilege of experiencing Shakespeare, Greek tragedies, straight plays, musicals, improv, and even directing a senior year one act. (Being in On Tour also meant "learning" the Stanislavski Method of acting ... but I digress.) It was glorious, and while I knew in my heart I may not have the chops to make it on The Great White Way, I was able to act out my dreams in a dance solo in Follies, a speaking part in The American Clock and as Rosa in Tennessee Williams' The Rose Tattoo. I also lovingly look back on being a proud member of many-an-ensemble, which us cast members termed The B.E.E.S. We were The Best Ensemble Eva, Son. Yes, there was some bitterness when certain people always made the lead, but that's high school for ya :)

Follies, 2001 (along with Chrissy, Danielle and Aviva)

The American Clock, 2001 (Mike, myself, Lindsey and Jon)

I've come to realize that the bittersweet emotions I feel when I see a Broadway show, are the result of a melancholy regret I have for not pursuing the activities of my youth as an adult. While my passions and goals have evolved over the years, I would love to find a way to incorporate my old hobbies into the present. I can certainly take classes at Broadway Dance Centre or attend the various dance workshops that this show biz city has available, but alas, I never have. So, there's no time like the present. This summer I am going to do some homework ... it's time I whip out my old dancin' shoes.

"In olden days a glimpse of stocking was looked on as something shocking, but now, God knows, Anything Goes!"

The General Turns 26

This year, my friend Roe's birthday falls on Good Friday, so last night me and the gals decided to celebrate a little early. However, there was one small problem: a monsoon decided to unleash its wrath on Manhattan at precisely the exact moment we commenced our evening of fun. Umbrellas were flailing, our feet were soaked and our coiffed hair was in disarray. By the time Lins, Roe and I met at the subway, we looked liked we had swam to 86th street. We stifled our dissapointment in mother nature, and headed to Dos Caminos in the Meatpacking District. We don't hang out in this uber swanky neighborhood often, so we were ready to take it on.

As soon as we sat down, our informative waiter recommended a potent margarita made with double distilled blue agave tequila, which we ordered: stat. And just when a mouthwatering lava bowl of guacamole graced our presence, Jesse joined us for the birthday fiesta. I think the guacamole I ate last night at Dos Caminos was the BEST guac I have ever eaten. The chunks of fresh tomato, zesty lime juice and creamy avocados create this incredible dip that tortillas were born to be eaten with. (At one point my excitement over the guacamole was so intense that I almost inadvertently stabbed Lindsey with my fork. I sometimes have a problem holding on to my cutlery.)

We all ordered the Mexican Chopped salad, made with chiles, crisp apples, beans, green olives, cheese, tomatoes and crispy tortillas tossed in a savory vinaigrette. Mmm mmm good! Mexico City Style Quesadillas and Sweet Potato Fries rounded out our lip-smaking meal. Everything about Dos Caminos, from the warm lighting and rustic atmosphere to the sip-to-the-last-drop margaritas and palate pleasing Mexican food, equal a delicious experience.

Even more delicious was the fact that directly below us was 675 Bar. In times of turbulent weather, the less walking the better. We moseyed on down to the bar and this is where things got interesting. Since we were coming directly from the restaurant above, we got a private escort, head of security style. Now, this guy was an absolute hoot, sporting jeans, a hoodie and an arm cast - not exactly intimidating. Suprisingly, what he lacked in uniform he made up for with enthusiasm. In one breath he told us to "follow me," "now wait right here," "get in line against the wall - single file!" "show me your wrist!" "YOU NEED A STAMP!" ect, etc. It was hysterical, we weren't sure if we were getting admitted into a prison ward or what.

Most bars in the Meatpacking District take clubbing very seriously, but this basement dwelling has more than meets the eye. The theme of 675 appears to be The Retro Home. It reminded me of That 70's Show with wood panelling and Ikea-esque furniture. The even cooler thing was that along the stone wall perimeter are these inconspicuous rooms. In a previous life this space must have been a wine cellar or distillery of some sort. Our "room" had a TV, plaid couches and lounge chairs, cabinets and a (broken) foosball table. We graciously took on the role of letting curious foosball enthusiasts know that sadly, the ball was stuck inside the table. (Side Note: It turns out, one curious foosball enthusiast used to work at Roe's law firm. Small subterranean world indeed.) We tried a few cocktails, one being the April Affair. No Bueno. The mixture of cucumber vodka and blueberry liquor left a curious aftertaste that did not require a follow up. Our last drink, The Moustache, was a refreshingly bubbly combo of Proseco and St. Germain.

That facial hair-inspired cocktail served as the finale to our night on the town. In a funny twist, the rain we dreaded all night ended up leading us to an interesting bar beneath Dos Caminos. Roe's birthday was a success, deluge or not. The four of us gals are going to Tennessee in two weeks, which will ensure a plethora to write about. Great times with great friends and a laugh factor that tips the scales into the red zone. So, with that being said, I encourage you all to travel to Hudson Street and go south of the border at Dos Caminos and south of the street for 675 Bar.

Exciting New Culinary and Imbibing Horizons

I currently work in the restaurant industry, but often feel like an outsider when I am caught unaware when asked about a trendy new eatery. I LOVE to eat and really enjoy eating out, but hobnobbing at the hottest spots in New York City comes at a price. I'm a firm believer that you can still enjoy unique and delicious fare, and not have to dine at said hottest spots, so I usually find myself eating at establishments that fall both under the radar and in my budget. With that being said, it is really exciting when you do find yourself at the pulse of New York City, eating at restaurants that have been reviewed by The New York Times and are revered by industry honchos.


Stanton Social

On Monday, my girlfriends and I began a tradition that we've dubbed GNO (Girls Night Out). We all lead busy, and at times, stressful lives, so it's really important to set aside nights when we'll get together, treat ourselves to an indulgent meal, unwind and revel in the fact that we have each other to lean on. Lindsey made reservations at Stanton Social, an uber trendy hotspot on the Lower East Side at the corner of Stanton and Ludlow Streets. The LES is one of my favorite neighborhoods, so that sweetened the deal even more. We were seated in a u-shaped booth and immediately ordered a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. The premise behind Stanton Social is tapas style menu offerings. We ordered about five small plates, which included Potato and Goat Cheese Pierogies and French Onion Soup Dumplings. Our meal was really good, but with all of the hype considered, didn't blow me away. Maybe it's just my oversized appetite, but small plates alway leave me wanting more. The overall atmosphere was incredibly fun and swanky, so I would definitely go back. (Especially to try their sliders, one of the only items on the menu that don't come tapas style.) GNO was off to an impressive start.


Dumpling Man

On Friday, my sister Kerry met me at my Union Square office around 7:30pm, and from there we made our way to the East Village's Dumpling Man. My sister had been talking about Dumpling Man for a while, so I was really happy to finally sink my teeth into some authentic Chinese dumplings. The restaurant is long and lean, although after eating here a few times, I think it would be hard to maintain that sort of figure! The dumplings are offered steamed or seared, and we both opted for seared. I ordered pork, while Kerry ordered veggie, and then we both split a second veggie because they were that good. It really is a simple dining experience; tender, piping hot dumplings come in portions of 6 or 10, and are presented in a cardboard container, which are then eaten with a pair of chopsticks. Nothing fancy, but classically satisfying all the same.


Tribeca Grill

My weekend of dining excursions continued on Saturday night, when I accompanied Lindsey and the wonderful DiCola family to Tribeca Grill, co-owned by Robert De Niro. I really love this part of town; quaint cobblestone streets and classic townhouses, juxtaposed with extremely high end dining and even higher rising waterfront condos. The neighborhood oozes a sophisticated vibe, but lacks the stuffiness of an area like the Upper East Side (spoken by a resident Upper East Sider). Grand is the first word that comes to mind when I think of Tribeca Grill. The place is massive, with high ceilings, exposed pipe and bricks walls, giving it an almost loft-like feel. We especially liked the larger than life stained glass light fixtures, which resembled upside down sombreros. Lindsey and I split the Bleu Cheese Endive Salad to start. The savory bleu cheese and crisp apples was a refreshing appetizer. We both ordered the Sweet Potato Gnocchi, which was superb. The soft texture of the gnocchis was complimented by the crunchiness of the dish's squash. We all split dessert, a medley of cherry sorbet and warm apple pie. You talkin' to me ... fantastic!


Auction House

After Tribeca Grill, Lins' dad drove us back uptown. Here, I was introduced to a diamond-in-the-rough of the Upper East Side bar scene. I've lived in this neighborhood for over a year now, but the bars still don't do it for me. With the exception of American Trash, Biddy's Pub (a bar we are determined to become townies at) and Dylan Murphy's, most of the bars up here have a fratty atmosphere that I have found myself weaning off of. However, there is a bar on the corner of 89th and 2nd, which Lindsey found with a friend, and the aid of a map. It has no signage, and resembles no other bar on the UES that I have ever been to. At Auction House, you are greeted by exceptionally dim lighting, red velvet couches and murals of 18th century nudes. The relaxed ambiance and old world surroundings were a breath of fresh air and while I only had wine, I will definitely be back to explore the rest of the options on tap. Good find, even if a map was required to find it.


And with that, my weekend tale comes to a close. Stay tuned, as upcoming GNOs will surely be recounted in this blog - who knows where we will end up!

Josh Ritter at Terminal 5

I have most definitely been slacking in the blog department as of late, but I can't stay away for too long. I should have made my New Year's Resolution "Write More" ... but maybe I can still make it my Middle-of-February-and-Beyond Resolution.

For starters, this past weekend I had the pleasure of seeing/hearing Josh Ritter at Terminal 5 with Rob and friends. It was a wonderful show, which I wrote a review for on PapertrailMusic.com. Take a look!

http://papertrailmusic.com/2011/02/15/josh-ritter-incited-a-valentines-day-brawl-at-terminal-5/