March 4, 2005: Tour Ends On Pinnacle

  March 4, 2005
     
Dear Friends,

I played Lincoln Center’s new and beautiful Allen room on February 10th, and it was the last show of a tour that has sputtered along since January 2003.  Two years of shows in support of ‘Rules of Travel’, and it ended on a pinnacle.  By the time of the Allen Room show, the focus had shifted from ROT to the new record I am making now, "Black Cadillac", and the band was in incredible form.  My taller half, Mr. L, had broken his finger just before the Jamaica Jazz and Blues Festival last month, so we were a mite concerned that he could play at all.  Turns out, if he had broken three more fingers, we would have been about even as guitar players.  He played phenomenally, creating new voicings of chords on the spot, minus that left ring-finger.  Adam Levy, from Norah Jones’ Handsome Band, graciously joined us to assist Mr. L in areas of chordal concern, and he was a delight to work with.  The band was filled out by regulars Shawn Pelton, Zev Katz, Brian Mitchell and Catherine Russell, and I just feel privileged to work with such a stellar group of musicians.

What a relief.  I feel dizzy with the satisfaction of completing such a rigorous schedule, and now my focus turns completely to the record.  I am about halfway there, and, given Capitol’s need for a five-month lead time before release, I would imagine this record will be in stores in September. It’s a good time for it. It’s more of an autumn record, topically. Not your summer feel-good type of thing.

I am also continuing my series of shows at the Rubin Museum of Art here in Manhattan.  A new trio of performances will begin on March 11th, with guests Mojo Mancini (John Leventhal, Brian Mitchell, Shawn Pelton, Zev Katz and Rick DePofi).  I’m excited to be resuming my position as ‘resident female Buddha’, as the director of programming has christened me (still waiting on that health insurance), and exploring the links between images in the Himalayan art to popular music. The last series of performances was so much fun.  Did you know you could connect ‘Ode to Billie Joe’ to a Buddhist theme?  Okay, it’s a leap, but one that’ll create a few more neural synapses.

I really enjoyed ‘The Gates’ in Central Park last month.  The first day I saw it, which was the day after the installation, it was gorgeous. It was a beautiful, sunny and cold day, and the light through the ‘saffron’ fabric (they looked orange to me, but let’s not quibble) was just fantastic.  A few days later, on a dismal, drizzling day, the Gates looked… not so great. Like laundry, or a construction site.  Then, a few days after that, I picked my son up at school, and the taxi went through the park going home. It was just spectacular. The light caught the orange fabric in a million different ways, and it was like driving through a heightened dream of color. It was really exciting.  Everyone had an opinion about it, or a question; is it really art? What is the meaning?  I didn’t really care. I enjoyed it—or not—on a visceral level, and that was enough. And I loved the very temporal nature of it—16 days, that’s it. It gave it an intensity and focus that added to it tremendously. My friends Gael and Stephen Doyle had a small dinner party in honor of The Gates, and the saffron was flowing freely. It was just great. I love being alive in New York at this particular moment. If it would only get above freezing for a few minutes.

I went to a surprise 50th birthday party for my friend and literary agent, Merrilee, and afterwards went to a restaurant with my friend and editor, Rick, and ran into a couple people I know who said they were both celebrating their recent 50th birthdays.  I told them that I, too, would be turning 50 this year. One sighed and said, ‘yeah, there’s a lot of that going around.’  I am frantically cleaning out dressers, closets, linen chests, kitchen cabinets and bathroom drawers. For some reason, I feel compelled to get rid of overflow, detritus and dead weight before the happy day; it seems that that particular birthday is a dividing line, and I really can’t take more than the essentials into the future.  (Well, I’m not getting rid of the Manolo Blahniks no matter HOW inessential, but you get my point). I’ll let you know how it goes.

In closing, I’d like to acknowledge two passings this month:  Joe Carter, who was A.P. Carter’s son, and one of the last of the Carters of that generation.  He died in Virginia on March 2nd.  I imagine June was happy to see him on the other side.
Also, Ray Witherall, longtime fan club president of Dad’s, passed away at the end of February. Godspeed to both.

And God bless to you.

Mrs L
Still blue, in more ways than one.

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