Sandy farewell

Monday, 29 October 2012

On Monday morning New York City is closed down. I’m staying at home as my office, like most others, has been forced shut. Without transportation it would anyway be impossible to get to Manhattan. It doesn’t look too bad outside, though. It’s grey and the rain is falling, but it all looks rather calm. The wind comes in gusts that violently shake the trees outside. Some leaves have already turned yellow and are flying off like wet rags.

By noon the situation is starting to look more serious. According to the reports, the storm has been moving faster than anticipated and therefore has arrived earlier than expected. Its power has intensified. There’s by now no doubt this’ll be the worst storm to hit New York since the 1938 hurricane. The TV shows images from Atlantic City, NJ. The famous boardwalk and the casinos are being pounded by heavy winds and the waves from the open ocean are splashing forcefully onto the shore. I remember my brother has a vacation property on the Brigantine Island not far from Atlantic City. I also remember it faces the ocean. There’s only the sandy beach and a narrow street between the building and the Atlantic. In good weather, the location is lovely.

I correspond with my colleague Chona who lives in New Jersey. She is lamenting the pictures of her beloved Jersey Shore being eaten up by the waves. The TV meteorologist explains how New York City is squeezed in between New Jersey and Long Island, which means that in an Atlantic storm situation like today, the water has only one way to go: inland towards the city via the inlets. Therefore, the storm surge forecast for New York harbour is grim.

The most threatening situation starts unfolding in mid-afternoon on the west side of Manhattan. A crane on a high-rise construction site on the 7^th Avenue at 57^th Street has collapsed and is hanging upside-down at the height of the 90^th floor above the city. There is no way to stabilize it, so it’ll be pure luck if it stays up and doesn’t fly smashing into neighbouring buildings and onto the street.

Around 4 pm Governor Andrew Cuomo holds another press conference flanked by NYFD and other emergency personnel. A troop of National Guardsmen dressed in camouflage uniforms stands guard behind them. There is a life-threatening situation on Fire Island, a thin barrier island off Long Island. Fourteen people who refused to obey the mandatory evacuation order last night had to be rescued today. Having spent some good summer vacation time on the island, I can’t even imagine anyone wanting to face a hurricane on that thin sliver of sand in the Atlantic. In the process a rescue vehicle has been lost. Luckily there were no personnel losses. Cuomo quotes Mayor Michael Bloomberg, who accused people who refused to leave of being selfish, putting others at peril. The emergency chief tells in no uncertain terms that the window to evacuate is rapidly closing. Sandy is now expected to make landfall around 18:00, which will coincide with the peak of the tide coming in. When that happens, it won’t be possible to get out of the islands that surround New York City.

I also correspond with my other colleague Indran who lives high up in one of the high-rises on the East River waterfront in Manhattan. It is Zone A, but the building complex is very solid and the water would anyway never reach that high up, so he had chosen not to evacuate. He and his family moved here from South Africa only earlier this year. They are awed by the storm which they can observe through rattling windows from a vantage point tens of stories above sea level.

Our building is faring well, too. We stay in our warm apartment and enjoy the food we stocked up on before the storm: steaks and asparagus for lunch, followed by coffee ice cream; grilled chicken and salad for dinner. Do we normally eat this well? Nowa sleeps through much of her first hurricane. I go down to the basement, which looks dry—so far. 

Around the time of the landfall, I venture out briefly to snap these photographs. From the balcony the southwestern sky looks menacing. On the street side, the large trees are bending with the gale force winds. Luckily, the rain remains surprisingly moderate.

In early evening, the communications start to falter. The cable network on which our building depends on for the Internet, TV and telephone landline goes dark. The elevator also becomes unsafe to use. We’re cut off from information and communications. Well almost, as Yoko’s iPhone can still send and receive messages (my older model went blank). Some neighbours in the building report water leaking from their a/c vents. Apparently, water is also starting to gather in the basement.

Around 21:30, Yoko reads on the iPhone that Sandy is no longer a hurricane. The National Hurricane Centre has reclassified it because it “has continued to lose tropical characteristics”—no wonder at these latitudes. It doesn’t mean that its power is waning. Sustained winds of more than 120 km per hour remain. The wind and rain continue late into the night.

Tuesday, 30 October

We survived the storm with minor personal inconvenience. In the morning the winds are still high and there are heavy showers. At the JFK airport, top wind speeds recorded were 127 kph. Our cable service is restored and we never experienced a power outage. Not everyone was equally lucky. The storm left some 7 million people in 11 states and the District of Columbia without power. In New York, power outages are widespread and currently 1.8 million people are without power. In the New York University Langone Medical Centre even the back-up generator system failed. Some 260 patients, including four newborn babies, had to be evacuated.

ConEdison, the power utility, made a statement that this is the biggest storm-related problem in the company’s history. A representative couldn’t give a timetable for fixing the problems but suggested it may take a week to fully restore the service. It's going to be a cold and dark week for those affected. 

The initial reports by the police talk about seven Sandy-related deaths in the city, but there is no information about how these happened. The national death toll from Sandy is currently put at 16. According to news reports, more than 80 homes have burned down to the ground in a fire in Breezy Point, Queens, due to electric fires. One can imagine insurance companies studying the hurricane causes in the policies for loopholes to avoid payment to the home owners. A building in Chelsea collapsed partially because of the wind. The crane in Midtown West is still hanging there, but the situation remains dangerous and the police have evacuated buildings in the neighbourhood.

There is massive flooding around the city. The National Hurricane Centre recorded storm surges of up to 3.8 metres in Kings Point. The storm surge in southern Manhattan’s Battery at 4.3 metres, was the highest ever on record, beating that caused by Hurricane Dana in 1960. In the South Street Seaport waves with a height of 9 metres were measured. Residents on Staten Island report that they have never seen anything like this. Coney Island waterfront is still inaccessible even to eager reporters. Streets look like rivers with cars floating on them. Cars have been crushed under felled trees. One car spontaneously combusted in a fireball, possibly caused by salt water getting into its battery. A huge tanker has washed ashore on Staten Island.

Reports are coming in and are being updated as more information becomes available. The economic impact has not yet been assessed.

The system-wide shutdown of mass transit—both local and long distance trains, subways, buses, ferries—continues. Seven subway tunnels are severely flooded. One can only imagine the hordes of rats sprinting across the debris in the deluge. Apparently MTA had managed to get all subway cars on higher ground in anticipation of the storm, so the trains have been spared damage. MTA calculates it’ll take four days to pump out the water from the tunnels. The rain continues to fall.

It seems that we’ll spend some more time indoors.

Waiting for Sandy

Sunday evening, October 28^th

Sandy is again a hurricane. Having already once been downgraded into a tropical storm, Sandy is back as Category 1 hurricane—and it’s heading north along the Atlantic coast. The storm system is slow-moving and massive, ranging some 1,200 km across. The eye is still far out on the Atlantic off the Carolina coast some 800 km from New York, but despite the distance, the winds are picking up even here in Brooklyn. The rain is starting to fall and the Rockaway shore is already getting soaked. The hurricane is calculated to make landfall well south of New York tomorrow night and is expected to pass the metropolitan area south-southwest from here across the garden state of New Jersey.

Although New York will likely not be hit directly, the expectation is that the city will receive its share of rain and wind. In fact, the biggest threats would appear to stem from wind and the associated storm surge. The rainfall on Monday-Tuesday is expected to be just 50-120 mm—enough to give us a good washing, but not huge in historical terms. However, by noon tomorrow, the winds are expected to blow at 80 km per hour, with gusts going up to 112 km per hour. That’s strong enough to fell trees and power lines and to throw leisure boats off the East River on the banks.

This afternoon we walked down from our house to Bedford Avenue and the main shopping area of Williamsburg to get supplies so that our daughter Nowa would be able to ride out her first hurricane in comfort. It should have been no surprise, but we were still taken aback at seeing how many others had had the same idea. There were crowds of people in all shops and at least three dozen people were queuing on the pavement outside our favourite supermarket. Two bouncers were admitting people in an orderly manner, so that inside the store things didn’t get too chaotic. After a brief wait we were able to stock up with enough of bottled water and cooking ingredients should we be unable to shop for a few days.  It is interesting to note the types of items that people buy in these kinds of situations. Apart from bottled water, the first things to go seem to include canned tuna. This I noticed 14 months ago when we were bracing for Hurricane Irene, and could reconfirm today. As we headed back home, we could feel the humidity condensing in the cool wind.

New York Governor Andrew Cuomo has been visible in the media today assuring people of the state of preparedness. All public transportation—subway, local trains, buses, ferries—will be shutting down tonight. The area airports—JFK, La Guardia and Newark—have also instructed flights to be directed elsewhere and  Amtrak trains will be avoiding New York’s Penn Station. The bridges and tunnels connecting the five Boroughs may be closed up to avoid accidents caused by heavy winds or flooding. New York will be cut off from the world.

The decisive Mayor Michael Bloomberg ordered mandatory evacuation of all vulnerable low-lying areas on the coastline by 7 pm tonight. Zone A—which includes most of the shores of Manhattan, Brooklyn, Queens and Long Island—may be facing huge storm surges. The forecast at this time is mostly 1-2 m above normal—high in its own right—but some areas around East and Hudson Rivers—and especially Long Island Sound—may face a storm surge of up to 1.8-3.3 metres. It’s almost full moon, which worsens the effects as the tides are naturally high at this time.

While the city hurricane shelters are slowly filling up, many citizens are also planning on challenging the evacuation orders and riding out the storm. The local TV station NY1 sometime ago broadcast a report from the Rockaways where some of the 130,000 people living there were gathering for hurricane parties. A somewhat wobbly gentleman declared firmly through a nearly toothless grin that he would not leave his home of 35 years: “The captain must go down with his ship!” True to his style, Mayor Bloomberg justifies the mandatory evacuations, not because of his concern for the stubborn residents, but because their intransigence may eventually put rescue personnel at risk if they need to go out to salvage foolhardy partyers from storm hit areas. He also made a decision to shut down elevators and hot water in public housing—many tall high-rises—to prevent people from getting stuck in elevators and other mishaps if and when there are power failures.

This is not the first time New York City will experience a hurricane, although they certainly are not regular events. By definition, hurricanes are tropical storms, and New York is far from tropical, as anyone having spent a winter here would attest. However, just last year, in August 2011, the city was hit by another hurricane, Irene. It was the first since Hurricane Floyd in 1999. The one before that had been Agnes in 1972. Whether this repeat just a year later would be any indication of intensified storm activity linked with climate change is of course impossible to tell. Two events in a row don’t provide any statistically significant trend. The most destructive hurricane that New York has had to deal with in modern times took place in 1938 when the eye of a Category 3 storm passed straight through Long Island killing ten people. Damage from Irene last year stayed quite limited, although much of Lower Manhattan—the Financial District and the Battery—were severely flooded. Even then, the Far Rockaways took the brunt of the storm that damaged the piers and boardwalks there. Here in Williamsburg, the visible damage was limited to some flooded basements and a few felled trees (see the photos from the aftermath of Irene).

 

Sandy is different, though. It’s been termed ‘storm of a generation’ to reach this far up on the East Coast. Last week, it already killed at least 60 people and caused large-scale homelessness in the Caribbean. President Barack Obama has just signed an emergency declaration for New York State in anticipation of Sandy’s arrival.

For now, we are tucked in comfortably in our apartment in Williamsburg. We are close to East River, but just outside of Zone A by virtue of our building standing on a small knoll. It will not prevent the winds from rocking the windows here on the 4^th floor or preventing flooding in the basement storage areas. But all the plants have been moved inside from the balconies. We expect to stay safe and dry, although the thick clouds hide the full moon and the wind is increasingly throwing raindrops our way..

Oran Etkin @ Barbes, May 21, 2011

This Saturday night some forty people witnessed excellent intercultural musical cooperation in the shabby backroom of Barbès in Brooklyn where Israel-born Oran Etkin was joined by two Malian musicians, Makane Kouyate and Yacouba Sissoko. The combination of clarinet, kora and calabash is unusual enough, but the musical cross-fertilization and sheer talent of the trio made the event memorable. In the beginning, I thought the music lacked a bit in foundation, because there was no bass in the band. Both kora and clarinet play in treble pitches. However, this shortcoming—mostly in my own head and expectations—was soon overcome, largely because of Makane’s amazing handling of the calabash. While playing complex rhythms and a remarkable range of tones by handling the single drum with his hands and fingers, he was also able to produce a steady bass beat with the base of his hand.

The music was basically based on West African rhythms and tones to which Oran brought his jazz and klezmer influenced clarinet. The concert started with a joyful tune, to be followed by a more melancholy love song, in which Oran switched to bass clarinet. The entire performance alternated between speedier jams and thoughtful and invariably very beautiful pieces mostly featuring the deep sounds of the larger curved clarinet.

Makane was the flashiest performer of the evening. In addition to his calabash, he sang the vocal numbers in an expressive lamenting voice. His percussion work was marvelous. Without warning, he would change the rhythm into double tempo and play flamboyant solos while the kora would keep the tune moving with a steady ostinato. All in all, there was a phenomenal cooperation between the musicians, with the clarinet and kora joining in unison as the drum would strike powerful thumps and bangs to signify a change in a segment or to end a song in a catchy phrase.



Barbès is a small bar and music space in Brooklyn’s Park Slope. It is run by two Frenchmen who named it after the Paris neighborhood, which has a large North African immigrant population. The Brooklyn place has a distinctly Parisian underground feel and a clientele who perfectly fits into the scene. The age range is wide but a certain bohemian demeanor seems to unite the generations. The highly atmospheric music was further lubricated by freely flowing wine and cocktails, which the patrons imbibed in quantities. Although I was irrigating my own throat only with Diet Coke, I did not find any of my fellow audience to be the least annoying, not even those who were clearly quite well marinated.

Oran Etkin is a remarkably creative musician. A student of Yusef Lateef, he has taken after his legendary teacher in his open mind and broad musical vision that bridges a whole range of genres and cultural traditions in an eclectic manner. Lateef (born in 1920 and still going strong) has for decades been one of my greatest inspirations just for the reason of his limitless imagination and incorporation of African, Middle Eastern and Asian music into his own special style. In fact, one of the most intriguing numbers of the evening was a quirky slow blues-based tune that Oran said he had written for his mentor and played on a wailing clarinet. It also took the kora to directions and dimensions that are not normally heard on the stringed instrument. Yacouba Sissoko, however, is a master kora player who has the facility and musical sense to manage such challenges.

The concert was further spiced up by Oran’s good-humored banter in between the tunes. He encouraged the audience to participate in an African style call and response chorus in one of the songs sung by Makane and he also gave people the license to dance, which they took up with delight. During the last number, Yekeke, I observed a middle-aged white couple who were totally absorbed in the moment. The woman shook in overtime as if possessed by a Mandingo spirit, while her partner wearing a pale blazer seemed to imitate former President George W. Bush when he joined in a tribal dance performance during one of his visits to Africa. But how could I blame them? Such was the intensity of the music and rhythm produced by this unorthodox acoustic trio.

Kings of Convenience @ Warsaw, 4 June 2010

The Norwegian duo had packed the Polish National Home, Warsaw, in Brooklyn's Greenpoint on this Friday night. The demographics of the audience were somewhat unusual, with a preponderance of geeks and oriental girls. Of course, there were also a large number of tall blond Norwegians and other Nordic types amongst those crowding in front of the stage. It struck me that Yoko and I fit quite neatly in at least two of these categories. I went to the bar to get us cups of white wine and as I returned I found that there had been a further condensation of the throng close to the stage and I had to push myself through to reach Yoko in their midst.

I had been aware of the Kings of Convenience for a long time and I had listened to their CDs, Versus and Quiet is the New Loud, which we had at home. We also had the solo disc, Unrest, of Erlend Øye who together with Erik Glambek Bøe forms the duo. But although I had found these records to be generally good and quite soothing, they always were more Yoko's music than mine. Neither was I aware that the Kings had such a following even here in the States, so I was surprised at the whistling and girls screaming when Erlend Øye modestly showed up on the stage just to announce the warm-up act.

So the concert started with Franklin for Short, a less known band from Ventura, California, performing for the first time on the East Coast on this Kings of Convenience tour. As Erik Glambek Bøe would later say, Franklin for Short is their favourite American band, for now. And I could see why. Franklin for Short was quite fresh with an early-1970s spirit in their music (think The Beatles, Beach Boys, The Byrds, with a heavier Indie rock sound) that extended to their appearances. The bearded lead singer/guitarist, Seth Petterson, wearing a baseball cap, had the air of the Beach Boys after they had abandoned the clean look of the 1960s. The bass player Trevor Beld's style was that of George Harrison of All Things Must Pass period, with skinny white pants and a beard as long as his hair. Even the instruments reflected the bygone era. The lead guitarist Bryan Russell played a green Fender Telecaster, while Beld used a white Fender Mustang, which he plucked very skilfully with his thumb. But the most impressive was the set-up of the long-haired keyboardist, Matt Barks, with a drooping moustache, who in addition to a vintage looking keyboard had a theremin hooked up in front of him. All in all the quintet's music was quite engaging, with with better than average vocals and definitely better than average melodies. I only found the drummer Brian Granillo to be a bit heavy handed, but there was a nice variety in the arrangements.

Then finally the boys from Bergen came on stage accompanied by wild screams and applause from the audience. From the moment they launched into their first song (which they announced as playing their first song), they held the rapt attention of the audience throughout the lengthy and rather low volume concert. It was just the two of them and their acoustic guitars, Erlend on steel strings and Erik on nylon strings. The music was interspersed by low key banter by the two friends in their heavy Norwegian accents. Erik apologized for their concert starting 15 minutes late and told that Guns and Roses had just been to Bergen and that their concert started 3 hours late: “Everything is so big in America.” They played their known songs that had been modest hits, such as ‘I Don’t Know What I Can Save You From,’ as well as numbers from their new album, Declaration of Dependence. At times they sounded like young Simon and Garfunkel with quiet songs and close harmonies. Apart from mellow love songs, their lyrics would reflect a modesty that is quite rare on this side of the Atlantic (“Failure is always the best way to learn…”). At times, they’d be quite riotous, as far as one could be with just two acoustic guitars. In the song ‘The Girl from Back Then,’ Erik cooked a lively jazz beat with a strong bass on his guitar, while Erlend jumped behind the grand piano. The result was a very nice jazzy jam. Frequently, the mood turned Latin with Erlend playing solo against Erik’s thick Bossa Nova chords. At one dramatic moment, which the boys made their best to hype up in their deadpan way, they switched instruments, both of them testifying how liberating it was after having had their specific roles in the duo for a decade. But the switch was only for one song before they were back with their own guitars in hand.

It is hard to pinpoint why the music of the Kings of Convenience is truly so appealing. I guess it has to do with many factors, not least that the songs are really very good (as my friend Jussi observed, “the boys play nice music”). But it also has to do with the fact that Erik and Erlend are deceptively good musicians. They both play the guitar amazingly well and the arrangements for the two acoustic instruments are very imaginative indeed, making them sound like a larger instrumentation. It also helps that the fellows are genuinely sympathetic and clearly are having a good time on stage.

Towards the end of the concert, they invited Franklin for Short back. From that moment on the mood again changed as the music was fortified with the electric instruments and drums. Erlend, who at that time was liberated from the guitar hanging around his neck, danced around goofily with his red hair swaying above the bespectacled face as he craned his long neck to the reggae tinged beats. He also went back to the piano and added some well-placed accents to the music. Franklin for Short proved their own skills as musicians, having mastered the intricacies of the Kings of Convenience songs. The audience was dancing along and reacted enthusiastically when asked whether they’d want to hear another song (Erik: “Good, because we wanted to play one more song”). When the concert finally ended, I could see only happy faces streaming out to the warm Brooklyn night.

Yukari @ Tea Lounge, 21 April 2010

Flute is my thing, so when I learn about new flutists on the scene I always head out to check them out. Yukari has been around for a while and has actually produced several CDs under her own name (the latest one, Dreams, is just about to be released and features recording artists such as Greg Osby). I’ve heard her play in bands and in a private party. Recently I’ve also come to know her personally. However, I had never heard her own band live before I listened to her at the Tea Lounge in Brooklyn last month. It has to be said that she is very versatile and plays many kinds of music—from jazz to pop to classical—so the Brooklyn performance was but one example of her many sides.

The Tea Lounge in Brooklyn's Park Slope neighbourhood is an eclectic place with a variety of comfy sofas for folks to lounge in and a well stocked bar (‘tea’ in this case has to be understood more broadly than just referring to the stuff brewed from the leaves of the evergreen bush grown in Asian highlands). When I entered from the rain outside, the place was already crowded, so I settled into the bar to wait for my buddy Nanthi to arrive. Not all people in the spacious joint were there for the musical experience, but as the evening wore on I noticed that a solid following had gathered at the back of the room where the band would play.

Tonight’s band consisted of a trio, with Yukari on the flute, Mike Pride on drums and Peter Bitenc on double bass. The two lengthy sets remained interesting throughout despite the limited instrumentation and no-one providing chordal accompaniment. This of course is testimony to the creativity of the players. Yukari herself is a highly skilled flautist. Since moving to New York from her native Japan, Yukari studied at the Manhattan School of Music and has played with many of the city’s premier young jazz players.

The repertoire of the evening ranged from free improvisation to be-bop tinged contemporary pieces. Most were Yukari’s own compositions, although one or two standards made it into the mix, including one Ellington ballad, which showcased the flutist’s beautiful sound. The mood in the dimly lit cozy café was warm and enthusiastic as the audience witnessed the performance of this highly original new force in jazz flute.

Fred Ho and the Afro Asian Music Ensemble @ BAM Café, Brooklyn, NY, 12 November 2005

What a day! Only in New York City can you experience such a variety of performances in one day. This afternoon we went to the 1st Chinatown Asian Music Festival (see a separate posting); then saw two ballets, Les Noces & Petrushka composed by Igor Stravinsky, adapted in a contemporary fashion by the Italian Compagnia Aterballetto, performed at the Brooklyn Academy of Music; and then finished off the evening at the BAM café listening to a superbly entertaining performance by Fred Ho and the Afro Asian Music Ensemble. The Ensemble, led tightly through the occasionally complex arrangements by its leader, performed a unique blend of straight blown jazz, avant garde and funk, all deeply rooted in the traditions. Fred Ho has been a highly innovative musician, composer, arranger and bandleader successfully mixing idioms for more than twenty years (www.bigredmediainc.com). Tonight’s band lived up to its multicultural title: three of the performers were of Asian origin, three of African, and two white. The musical mix was amazing, although firmly rooted in jazz.

The set began with a suite from Fred Ho’s (then called Houn) first album in the mid-1980s. The three-saxophone lead was strongly reminiscent of Duke Ellington’s harmonies, occasionally lapsing into a free format, while vocalist Jennifer Kidwell recited poetry. Next came a rendition of Billie Holiday’s God Bless the Child beautifully and powerfully sung by Kidwell. Billie Holiday classics returned with Strange Fruit Revisited, a rather ambitious arrangement of the tune with the three reed players producing exhilarating sounds with interesting combinations, such as clarinet, soprano sax and baritone sax. In between the interesting interludes in different tempos and timbres, the skillful Kidwell was allowed to swing with the original tune.

The saxophones, anchored firmly by the leader’s thick baritone, provided the main timbre of the evening. Fred Ho is as solid a baritone player as you’d ever find in a band. I’ve always admired the sound of this large horn, having played it in various bands during and after high school (I hasten to add that any comparison of my playing to Fred Ho’s would be badly insulting to the composer and band leader). There are too few players who master the big horn. Fred Ho’s sound on the baritone is big and solid, and he plays the parts firmly and tightly, but seldom ventures into extended solos. The main solo role tonight was left for Ed Jackson, the versatile alto saxist who played the ensemble leads with a beautiful sweet tone and the solos equally fluently in a post-bop as well as free modes.

One of the highlights of the evening was when the band played excerpts of Ho’s Black Panther Suite, with allusions to James Bond themes, but in 5/4. Jackson blew some amazing lines in his solo. Another extended piece was the Free Mumia Suite dedicated to Mumia Abu-Jamal, a black journalist on death row since 1982 for allegedly shooting a police officer.

The band was then augmented beyond the usual jazz setting by the Japanese stringed instrument Koto played by Yumiko Ozawa. Her slender figure appeared on the stage dressed in a long pink dress that was more reminiscent of romantic Shanghai images than Japan. Her electrified instrument provided a colorful backdrop as the ostinatos she played blended with those by the leader on his baritone and the rhythm section. Fred Ho’s composition from the martial arts-sword epic Deadly She-Wolf Assassin at Armageddon again blended highly original music with innovatively treated influences, such as quotations from the Juan Tizol classic Caravan played in 10/4 against an electric bass pattern.

The set ended with Fred Ho’s tribute to the recently deceased altoist entitled Sweet Sam Fernis that again highlighted Ed Jackson’s considerable skills and sensibilities as the soloist. The tune moved between sounds and rhythms ranging from swing to waltz to Latin beat.

The evening proved that Fred Ho is still one of the most innovative composers and bandleaders on the scene. His complex and skillfully delivered music is artful and serious; yet, hearing Fred Ho will guarantee that everyone in the audience leaves with a smile on the face.