Tag: brattleboro

I first saw the Alash ensemble more than 10 years ago in Ridgefield, Connecticut. They are the ambassadors of Tuvan throat singing in the US, and perhaps the rest of the Western world. Tuvan throat singing is a remarkable vocal trick… You make a tone somewhere in your throat, and then shape your mouth so that a harmonic overtone gets emphasized, making a kind of whistling noise. With practice, you can sing an entire song in overtones while maintaining the underlying note as a kind of drone. Built-in bagpipes.

It’s weird, for sure, and I find it completely mesmerizing. They accompany themselves on banjo-like instruments, guitars, and drums for the most part. Early on in the concert I leaned over to Lee and said the only thing that could make it better would be if they found an accordion somewhere… and then, presto, the guy in the middle pulled out an accordion. Heaven. I should also point out that the red figure in the background is a mannequin, part of the museum’s exhibit. I’m not sure exactly what she is supposed to represent, but she made a colorful backdrop.

The Tuvans are nomadic herders, living in what sounds like a difficult region somewhere between Mongolia and Siberia. Their music is really kind of like bluegrass, all about horses and cold weather and lost love and how you woulda showed that guy if you only had a chance.

This concert was at the Brattleboro Museum, whose director is a former college a cappella singer, which explains his geeky interest in this ultimately geeky musical form.

Once again, Brattleboro lives up to our expectations.

Top Of The Hill Grill

Another sign of spring… The BBQ joint is open.

The stitch n bitch is so 2012… Now we have lushes w brushes.

Once upon a morning bleary, this enigmatic raven-colored tailgate appeared in the bank parking lot down the street. Hmmm, I wonder what that might mean? At first I thought “Tis some hipster, nothing more.”

One Google search and two websites later, I have a Tolkien-rune transliterator, and a minute later, an answer. One more site, and I can put that answer into literary context, and a few taps let me share the entire story, while keeping the riddle for you to solve, so it can join the canon of quaint, curious, and forgotten lore.

I fucking love the Internet.

The ice and snow is melting, finally, along the banks of Whetstone Creek, revealing a whole season’s worth of washed up debris, and providing a glimpse of the plush rainbow snake, seldom seen this far north.

The vernal equinox