Nova Ahead 14

Do you remember Brilliant Corners? It is of course another perfect entry in the catalogue of Thelonious Monk, and the product of a contentious session in 1957 with the eccentric and otherworldly composer expecting his sidemen to learn his weirdo seven bar parts in an afternoon. Ultimately, the producer had to weave a number of takes together, and I believe the alto saxophonist, Ernie Henry, nearly lost his goddamn mind. Also, Monk plays the celeste! But I’m not talking about that Brilliant Corners, I’m talking about the amazing artspace / venue that existed on Water Street in Keene some years back. It was the size of a large walk-in closet, on the second floor of an industrial building, and I saw maybe a dozen shows there during its short lifespan. The music that I feel rang truest inside of that building was the mighty Kendra, an innovative and powerful duo made up of Kate Hanlon & Danny Kamps. There were some wild Sisters and Brothers sets as well as my first interaction with Tell Stories, Christine Hayward (I think? It’s a little murky), Skin Bicycle, and a number of other experimental tears. It’s another iteration of unbridled creativity rearing its head in Keene. 

My band had just broken up and I felt like I was on the outside of things, expressively wailing away on the saxophone in my apartment, biting the reed to make it squeal, and going on freeform benders into the dawn. I remember one particular instance where the police knocked on my door at one am; hazy smoke and late-era Coltrane billowing out of my windows. That cop must have been tired because he told me that my car had been towed, gave me the number of the towing company, and walked away. If I remember correctly, cops often showed up at Brilliant Corners as well, as thunderous bass and insane shrieks routinely shot out of the space in cartoon bolts of lightning, giving small dogs heart attacks and convincing neighbors that satanic rituals must be underway. I considered myself to be hip to these sounds but there were times when I also thought the ground may open up. Once I stood on the adjacent bike path, convinced that I had found the best seat in the house, Kendra’s set reverberating among the trees; I had discovered that the world could be a living, breathing set of headphones. In retrospect, I’m sure there were frustrations, infighting, and anxiety, but it really was a magical spot. I had met some of its denizens in a basement in the mid aughts, one of them, and half of Kendra, was Danny Kamps. As you may know Danny, now a public school teacher, and still a lovely person, began Omoo Omoo some years ago as a vehicle for his solo sound excursions. Again, my memory is maybe not the most reliable, but I’m pretty sure he walked me through a pretty hairy part of Baltimore one night on tour, as I was in search of some manner of chips, and I think he was doing this project at that time as well (actually, after a little dive via Youtube, I found some really sweet videos from a decade ago, and it brought back those initial feelings that I had upon hearing the dude’s explorations: loops that are more accurately described as a human being separating their brain contrapuntally).

Professor Milford Graves has just passed on into the great night, his exhaustive study of the heart surely providing him the fluency to move through the next world with ease and purpose, continuing his studies, and allowing him to inhabit all of our hearts as he travels. Through a number of chance encounters, and the efforts and kindness of Shahzad Ismaily, Milford Graves played at the 10th annual Thing in the Spring in Peterborough. The two of them rolled up to the venue in a minivan, with guitar monster Mary Halvorson, Professor Graves sweetly receiving my stuttering, trying to play it cool welcome. They played that evening in varying combinations, all of which were possibly the greatest thing I have ever seen. As I have been thinking about Brilliant Corners, Danny Kamps’ substantial output, and Professor Graves, I’ve honed in on the permission of space. We have to allow ourselves to become something, whether it is alone or with someone else, whether it is in creation or as a movement; I find that the space is often instrumental in allowing that permission. Brilliant Corners gave all who entered it the ability to stretch out and yawp; we brought Milford Graves to that old church in Peterborough with intention and humility, and he testified through the drum as he has since he played with Albert Ayler. Even Danny, in the middle of such a bizarre drugged out zone as that neighborhood in Baltimore, gave himself the room to dig in and make. Before we move forward, we have to give ourselves that permission, we have to imagine the possibility, not only as merely existing, but as a real and true path that is both deserved and necessary; the only thing keeping it from being the right time is your hesitation. Hesitation is a killer of free jazz and true love, and as Professor Graves brought the two of those things together, shall we never again break them apart.

Tune into the Nova stage this Friday at 830pm for a set by Omoo Omoo, and see for yourself what Danny’s brain has been getting into. This has been Eric Gagne, still writing, still breathing.