Tag: Nashville

A Conversation with Jamaal B. Sheats, Director of Fisk University’s Art Galleries

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If you've never visited Nashville's Fisk University, it's a beautiful campus rich with history. Located north of downtown Nashville, Fisk — a private, historically Black university — was founded in 1866, just a few months after the end of the Civil War. The university was home to a number of important moments during the Civil Rights Movement of the mid-20th century and counts Marion Barry, Diane Nash, W. E. B. Du Bois, and Ida B. Wells among its many notable alumni.

Fisk is also home to an incredible collection of visual art. While Nashville boasts art institutions like the Frist Center for the Visual Arts and Cheekwood, one of the city's most impressive collections of artwork — which includes works by Georgia O'Keeffe, Aaron Douglas, Pablo Picasso, Paul Cezanne, and many other renowned artists — is housed in a number of locations on Fisk's campus. 

Rhiannon Giddens filmed her video on the Fisk campus

Jamaal B. Sheats is the Director and Curator of Fisk's art galleries, as well as an assistant professor of art at the university. A 2002 graduate of Fisk himself, Sheats has held the position of Director and Curator for 10 months and enjoys being back on campus. "It’s really an incredible experience," he says. "Every day holds a new and exciting opportunity and a new and exciting challenge. I love it. It’s interesting to come back and look at it from a different perspective. I studied the collection and, when I look at it now, I can look at a Florine Stettheimer portrait and know that it influenced my work today. It’s very rewarding, to say the least."

While Sheats spent his early years at Fisk studying technique — he's an artist himself, a painter and sculptor involved in Nashville's broader arts community — he now enjoys the opportunity to use Fisk's immense collection to tell important stories. "For example, we have the Alfred Stieglitz collection, that’s back. And the exhibition title is 'Orders of Influence,'" he says. "I’m looking at Alfred Stieglitz in his pioneering role as a gallery owner, a photographer, a writer, and so many other things, with his introduction of European modernism to Americans, and those European modernists, in turn, influencing our American modernists. Or Stieglitz really taking photography from documentary purposes to raising it to an art form. For Stieglitz, one of the first people to exhibit African objects in the gallery and really acknowledging that European modernists were looking at those and thinking about non-representational objects and being influenced by that work. It’s definitely a different lens than looking at it as a student." 

Perhaps the most famous collection in Fisk's possession is that particular set of artwork, which was gifted to the university by Georgia O'Keeffe in 1949 in honor of Stieglitz, her husband. The collection is housed in the Carl Van Vechten Gallery, a former gymnasium that O'Keeffe hand selected when she made the donation. "It was a church, and W. E. B. Du Bois organized a group of students to purchase the building," Sheats explains. "In 1889, it became a gymnasium for calisthenics. Du Bois believed you needed to be intellectually and physically fit. Then Georgia O’ Keeffe selected the building in 1949 to become to first permanent gallery on campus."

Van Vechten, the gallery's namesake, was a famed photographer himself, with 400 of his photos as part of Fisk's permanent collection. He was a personal friend of Charles S. Johnson, a sociologist involved heavily in the Harlem Renaissance and Fisk University's first Black president, and was integral in connecting O'Keeffe to the school. "[Johnson] believed that, through the arts you could change the heart and mind of a nation," Sheats says. "He was an architect of the Harlem Renaissance. When he’s talking about art, he’s talking about visual arts, performing arts, poetry, music, literature — all of that. With that, he was good friends with Carl Van Vechten, and Carl Van Vechten is the one that made the ask to Georgia O’Keeffe. He was also instrumental in bringing Aaron Douglas to the campus to later go on and found the art department."

There are a number of works by Douglas, another central figure in the Harlem Renaissance, on Fisk's campus in the Aaron Douglas Gallery, established within the John Hope and Aurelia Franklin Library in 1994. The university also has vast collections of African and African-American art, including traditional African artifacts and works by artists like Hale Woodruff and James Porter. Many Fisk alumni and faculty have works in Fisk's permanent collection, as well. The university has been collecting art and artifacts since the 1870s.

The Stieglitz collection, which features Picasso, O'Keeffe, and others, remains Fisk's biggest draw, however, with the gallery notching over 2,500 visitors from 10 countries since re-opening (after a contentious two-year stint at Arkansas's Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art following a legal battle with O'Keeffe's estate) in April of this year. Sheats does not see that absence, which will recur every two years, as a detriment to his art students or to campus visitors, as the university has such a large collection outside of O'Keeffe's donation. "The Stieglitz Collection is only 101 works out of 4,000," he says. "When the collection leaves, it gives us the opportunity to show some of the other work in our collection. We have a strong foundation in African-American art. We have a strong foundation in work that was produced during the Harlem Renaissance. There was an article that came out maybe two months ago in the New York Times that talked about African-American artists marching to the museums, and they talked about Normal Rockwell, Alma Thomas, and so many others. And these are artists that are part of our collection, because there was a point in time in American history when they could only show at an institution like Fisk."

That history is, to Sheats, just as important as the technique on display in the pieces, and honoring it is at the heart of his work as both a curator and a professor. "It’s interesting because I talked about the collection from the perspective of our art majors," he explains. "But I had a faculty member ask me to pull work from two areas: the Civil Rights Movement and to look at more contemporary artists around Black Lives Matter to see what they were doing — to parallel those two periods of time. When there’s a place where there are no words, when you can’t accurately describe how you feel, I believe that art fills that void. It’s a way to tell a story when you can’t actually say the story. I think it’s very important at this time."  

During a Summer of peaceful protests held in response to police violence against unarmed black men, Sheats sees art as an important tool to document the important work being done, both as a way to honor those fighting for equality and to educate generations to come. "When you talk about protest, this is something that is not just for African-Americans or for minorities," he says. "It is a perennial thing that’s happened over and over throughout history, and this is visual documentation of that."

Lede photo credit: joseph a via Source / CC BY-NC-SA

How to Have It Both Ways: Darrell Scott in Conversation with Elizabeth Cook

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If you’d happened into the bars where a young Elizabeth Cook and Darrell Scott and various members of their families played hardcore honky-tonk music for working people some decades ago — she in small-town Florida, he wherever his dad had most recently decided they should try to make a go of it — you would have witnessed their immersive education in earthy expression. All these years later, the bodies of work they’ve each built up as singer/songwriters command the respect of a different sort of crowd — theater- and festival-goers attracted to literary sensibilities and more elevated notions of artistry. Scott and Cook, though, have found ways to work the full range of their musical experiences into what they do, including their latest albums, her Exodus of Venus and his Couchville Sessions. They got on the phone with us to compare notes.

I’ve done several of these three-way interviews, and usually the two interviewees haven’t met and I’ll have to make the introductions, but I figured that wouldn’t be necessary in this case.

Darrell Scott: That’s true.

Elizabeth Cook: We go back to the Raffi days. Was it a Raffi track we did? It was some children’s project.

DS: Yeah, I think it was Raffi.

EC: And then you played on the Hey Y’all album [her debut on Warner Bros. Nashville].

DS: Yeah, I think it was one of your first records in town or something, back in the day.

EC: Yeah, 2002.

So this was a country tribute to Raffi?

EC: Yes! It’s been a thousand years. Let me think of what the song was. Did we do “This Little Light of Mine”?

DS: Yeah, that was it. You’ve got a good memory.

The last time I saw you, we were doing a round with Guy Clark, Buddy Miller, and me and you over at the Country Music Hall of Fame.

Darrell Scott

Darrell, I’ve heard the album that you produced for your dad, Wayne Scott, some years back, who really bore a strong sonic resemblance to Hank Williams, and Elizabeth, I’ve heard songs that your mom wrote for you when you were singing as a little girl, that old chestnut “Does My Daddy Love the Bottle?” being one of them. You both spent your formative years in down-home music but eventually found your ways into serious-minded singer/songwriter scenes. How do those seemingly disparate musical worlds and aesthetic values add up in what you do?

EC: Hmm, Darrell?

DS: Well, for me, I kinda feel I’m a giant sponge. I certainly grew up on country music to the full tilt. That’s all that was gonna be on the radio if you’re in the cab of the truck with my dad or my mom. My mom leaned toward, let’s say, Tammy Wynette and Marty Robbins, where my dad was more Hank and Johnny. They met at Merle Haggard, it seemed like. But that was where I started. And then church music gets in there, and it’s Southern Baptist stuff. And my family’s from Kentucky, so it’s got some of that. And then I’ve had the singer/songwriter periods of Joni Mitchell and Jackson Browne and Leonard Cohen and all that stuff, so all that gets thrown in. And I had a jazz-fusion period. And then I went to school and got an English degree.

To me, it’s all game in order to write a song that might want to go more bluesy or more honky-tonk or more confessional. Because I’ve loved so much stuff, it all shows up when it’s time to write something that’s leaning one way or another.

EC: I think that, like Darrell, coming up and hearing the hardcore honky-tonk music, that certainly established the ground base of what would be the rudiments of how I created — the chords that I knew and how they went together. So there’s that part. I didn’t re-emerge into the church scene until I was about 12 years old and we had stopped singing around the bars and stuff as much, and my dad was going through the initial phases of recovery from alcoholism. The Church of God songs were almost rockabilly. It felt like rock ‘n’ roll compared to the honky-tonk music. It was very lively — drums and organs and a lot of rolling around and tambourines. And then I think it took just growing up to realize that I was surrounded by this rich cast of characters and they were all storytellers verbally. None of ‘em wrote songs, but daddy did like to tell stories, and he was a character. And 10 half-siblings and all the people that came in and out of our lives.

After college and being torn over whether to pursue an English lit path or the mathematical business path — and choosing the mathematical business path in a rebellion period — that was almost like a sabbatical from music for me. And I was really trying to establish a different kind of life. But once I got out of that and came to Nashville is when I started learning that there was a Lucinda Williams and getting into deeper catalog Rodney Crowell and Nanci Griffith and Guy Clark, and finding out who Townes Van Zandt was, and hearing Steve Earle. And it was like, “Oh, there’s a sense of poetry that can be applied to this.” So there were the remnants of the musical style and then the sort of observation period, trying to learn and develop the poetry skill set and the storytelling skill set and marry all those things. And that’s still where I feel like I am now, on that path.

Elizabeth Cook

I wonder if either of you have ever found yourself challenging the way people define sophisticated and unsophisticated songwriting, since you’ve been intimately acquainted with this whole range of “highbrow” and “lowbrow” sensibilities and don’t view it as simplistically as some other folks might.

DS: Well, to me, that distinction comes down to the song. If there’s a song that’s tapped on my shoulder that wants to be absolutely simple, wants to speak from a character who has an eighth grade education, I figure my job is to facilitate, so to speak, or just let that song come to life the best I can with what started in the first place, as opposed to me sitting there saying, “Hey, I can’t write this song with that language. I’m gonna have to shift it over somewhere else.” That’s not my job. My job is to follow through with the initial inspiration and, if that inspiration wants to be coming from a farmer or an auto mechanic or a steel mill worker or something like that — and those are folks and characters I know, absolutely — then I’m gonna follow through with that. And the next song might be more poetic or more worldly or something, then my job on that one is to be that way. So I feel the songs sorta tell us what to do, as far as whether it’s sophisticated or a little more jazzy or a little more dark or a little more gospel or a little more anything.

EC: I think so, too. Music can do so many different things, you know? There’s music to boogie to, music to party to. There’s music that’s engaging on a more sophisticated level, and that’s where, to me, the more intricate lyric and storytelling and the more original way that you can say something [come in], even if it’s from a character that maybe you’ve heard speak before. For me, I guess I’m just saying it totally depends.

I’ve really enjoyed lately getting more into trying to find different jumping off points. If I’m wanting to write a song like this song “Evacuation” that’s on the new record about a lady in New Orleans … I decided to just immerse myself in learning about voodoo culture, and in [learning] that terminology and ideas, the story gets a little bit richer. So the process of digging deeper is what’s been exciting to me and a way to try and grow my writing.

As I listened to Exodus of Venus and Couchville Sessions and revisited some of your previous albums, I was thinking about the introspective approach that I’ve heard from other contemporary singer/songwriters, who tend to be up in their heads and disengaged from their bodies. That’s not at all what I get from your work. You can each get really expansive with the stories you tell or the experiences and settings you describe, but always also acknowledge physicality. Is that something that either of you are conscious of?

DS: You go ahead, Elizabeth.

EC: No, you go. We’ve got a little groove going.

DS: I’m conscious, and it’s not really while I’m doing it, but afterward. I look at my work and see that it’s sort of what you described there. Another way of putting it, for me, is linear — I feel like a lot of my writing is linear. I wish I weren’t so literal, to tell you the truth. I see that quality show up a lot in my writing.

You were describing some other type of singer/songwriter — folks who seem more disconnected. I’d love to be more disconnected sometimes. I just don’t get to get there. Not ‘cause I don’t want to. When a song like that does come along, I’m like, “Hallelujah. I got one, at least.” You know? There’s a slight different between a groove and a rut. I appreciate that linear quality in my writing, when the song’s appropriate, but I’d sure like to bust out and find the songs that allow me to not feel like I’m repeating a version of myself. I’d hate to think that I’m repeating myself, but I do see that linear quality in my writing and I’d like to bust it up. If you guys have any ideas how I could do that, let me know.

[All Laugh]

EC: Immerse yourself in voodoo culture.

No, I certainly don’t know. I’ve gone through phases of ideas and theories about it where I’m like, “Well, that’s kind of a cop-out just to write about the moon and the river, because you can totally bullshit your way through that.” I want to write rich stories and make them rhyme. I think that feels more challenging; it feels more interesting. If you can learn to do that well, I almost think it’s more rare than any other. So I follow that path and try to master that and, in doing that, sometimes I feel like, “Well, this is trite, and I wish I had something original to say about the moon and the river.” I think I’m also, like Darrell, trying to figure out how to crack that nut, how to maybe be sometimes a little more metaphorical or whatever you want to call it, and still be original and interesting and sophisticated and all those things that I feel like we’re challenged to do.

Darrell, it’s really interesting to hear you describe your sense of how your writing unfolds as “linear.” I don’t think I would’ve chosen that word. What I’m trying to get at is that your songs often operate on multiple different layers — you make the listener aware of what’s right in front of them, what can be seen with the eye, but also all these subtexts, stuff that’s felt and not said. For example, when I listen to “Waiting For the Clothes to Get Clean,” I see the people in the laundromat, their physicality, but I also feel the complex emotions they’re mired in. What does it take to work all of that in there?

DS: Well, that one came in a number of ways. One was just trying to describe that couple in that song. They obviously have major problems, you know? The whole thing is about a conflict. And they’ve just gone to the laundromat, so it’s an hour-and-a-half, but the shit they throw on each other just in something as simple as washing your clothes, it tells everything about how they don’t have it together. They just live in different worlds, but they’re in the same car, the same laundromat, and share the same bed. So that one, to me, was kind of a character study. Sometimes I’ve been embarrassingly too much like the male in that song, which I despise that part of me. But men … sometimes it takes them a long time to get out of whatever they’ve seen their parents do or whatever their male bravado crap is.

When I say linear, I mean, for example, that songs goes from the beginning of the laundromat experience to them driving back. Literally, it goes from unloading the clothes to now they’re driving back home after the hour-and-a-half or so at the laundromat. So that’s what I mean by linear: This happens, then that happens, then he said that, then she said that.

EC: Sort of like chronologically in time.

DS: That’s right. Yeah.

What goes on in that song, it points to all the psychological stuff between the two characters. So I hear what you’re saying. To me, the linear in that song is that it’s a real crisp timeline.

Elizabeth, you mentioned that you’ve been trying to find different starting points for your songwriting. You’ve always painted really evocative, detailed pictures in your lyrics, but I do pick up on some new elements in this batch of songs. In songs like “Exodus of Venus” and “Slow Pain,” it’s like you’ve pared down your lyric writing to this intense sensory stuff with dark blues shadings. That’s my description of it, but I wonder how you’ve experienced it and what got you there.

EC: You always get that cliché question, “Which comes first, the music or the lyrics?” Those were examples of ones that were initially music-driven out of the gate and the lyrics followed. When I’m writing to an emotion that’s already established in a sound, it’ a little more freeing. There’s a little bit less responsibility on the lyric, if that makes sense. I didn’t have that before, and a lot of that is because of writing with the producer for the record, Dexter Green, who’s a great guitarist and way into tones and pedals and all this stuff. So it’s been a different jumping off point instead of some sort of dense narrative coming out of my journal.

As you’ve been performing this material live, how have you seen people respond to hearing different stuff from you?

EC: I tell you what, I’m really encouraged and relieved, so far. And it’s still early, but we’re pretty much running the board. It’s been very positive. I was worried that it would be, “Well, this isn’t as country. This isn’t as sunshine-y.” But everybody’s been enjoying the exploration of the darker side and what I hope is an evolution to the writing. So far, so good. Only a couple people said, “You’re keeping it country, aren’t ya?” And I’m like, “Well, not really.” I love country music. I love it. But I don’t care if something I’m writing is country or not when I’m writing it. I just don’t care.

I feel like that’s probably a perspective on writing that you could identify with, Darrell.

DS: Yeah, very much. When it’s time to write, it all gets set aside. If we’re doing it right, all the attention goes to this song, this inspiration sitting in front of us. Fantastic, if it’s country. Fantastic, if it doesn’t rhyme. Again, I’m really trying to do what the song is telling me to do. And that may sound a little, you know, like it’s not exactly me writing it; I’m certainly there, but I’m paying attention to the song. Wherever the song is going, I hope to bring whatever I got to the table to help it to come to life. My country music background can sit at the side, if it doesn’t need any of those skills. I don’t feel like I have to interject anything.

Something else I appreciate about each of your music is that you have ways of drawing together the sensual and the spiritual. You have songs that explore the power of physical connection, that don’t beat around the bush about sexual tension. Darrell, your song “Come into This Room” comes to mind. Elizabeth, I heard that kind of power in “Straightjacket Love” or, on the more playful side, in “Yes to Booty.” You each also have a way of grounding bits of spirituality in the body. Through that blurring of lines, are you sort of letting us in on the way you experience the world?

DS: Well, for me, it’s part of that quality of telling the truth in the songs. If we’re sensual beings and if we’re sensual-minded as we walk around the planet — and I am — that has to enter in. So does the spiritual, because that’s how I walk around the world, too. So I try not to be ashamed of that. Depending on our background, you can be taught to hide that, and it’s scary, and you’re sure as hell not supposed to write a song about it. But, to me, that’s just part of the deal of breaking away from the stuff that didn’t work from childhood. Country music worked; I’ll take that. And maybe the Southern Baptist stuff didn’t work so well, or didn’t stick. So I can leave that one behind, but take away the general community of my church background or the general idea of the great gospel songs or the energy of people all feeling it together. To me, I walk around with the sensuality and the spiritual, and it would be no wonder how it would show up in songs. They’re part of what I carry around.

EC: I sort of think it’s inherent, for me, in music period. It’s like music taps into all those things, and that’s why I relate to it. It taps into sensuality. It taps into spirituality. That’s why it’s almost like an awakening when you connect with it. So I think it’s inherent in making music that those things would be present, if you’re truly succeeding in being connected to it. Those things would hopefully, naturally show up. I think that’s probably why.

That’s my best guess.

That’s a good guess.

Illustration by Abby McMillen. Elizabeth Cook photo by Jim McGuire. Darrell Scott photo courtesy of the artist.

Music City Roots Launches Live Album Series

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Since its inception eight years ago, Music City Roots has become an institution — for Nashvillians, it's one of the best places in town to catch amazing live music; for the United States, it's perhaps the only way to enjoy the best and brightest roots musicians from the comfort of home, whether online or, since 2013, on PBS. Now the famed show is bringing you yet another way to enjoy great roots music: their new live album series.

Kicked off in June with a release from Johnson City, Tennessee, band Bill and the Belles, the series brings listeners a handful of songs recorded at a recent Music City Roots broadcast. The inaugural release features seven songs and is available across a variety of digital platforms, including Spotify and iTunes. 

According to Music City Roots associate producer Ashlee-Jean Trott, whose background prior to joining the Music City Roots team in 2010 was in artist management and music festivals, the idea came to life after she attended DelFest and saw fans' excitement over getting to purchase live festival recordings shortly after they happened. "We have so much content every week, and we have a very large fan base that comes to the shows every week and watches online," Trott explains. "They always want to hear the music afterward." 

Trott and her team decided that the series would be selective, with a goal to release one album every two months instead of releasing recordings from each week's show. She hopes that frequency can increase to once a month in 2017.

"I book the bands for the show, so usually I know what all the bands sound like before," she says. "Usually, the bands that blow me away or blow our crew away at the show are the ones that we choose. So, this first band that we did — Bill and the Belles — I had heard them at IBMA and I really liked their music and I booked them on the show. But when they played at the show, it was one of those moments that I’ll never forget. It was just so good and the audience gave them a standing ovation. Those are the kind of bands we want to do a live album on, some kind of special moment we had on the show. "

The process for artists selected for live albums is simple enough, with Music City Roots and each artist splitting revenue from digital streaming and sales 50-50, after the cost of mixing is taken into account. "The cost is very low because we’re already recording it at the show, so that isn’t a cost," Trott says. "It’s just mixing. Once that cost is covered, we split the money down the middle with the artist for digital sales. We also give the artist the option to print the album physically for free. If they want to print it, they have to pay for the printing, but we don’t take any money from that."

Currently, the Music City Roots team doesn't plan to release physical versions of the albums themselves. They're hush-hush about which artists they plan to tap for future live albums, but Trott assures they're exciting picks. And with the hundreds of submissions Trott receives from hopeful artists on a monthly basis, there's no shortage of material to cull from. She cites the live album series as being "all about artists and making their careers explode," a feat they've already accomplished numerous times through their regular weekly shows and broadcasts.

"I saw St. Paul & the Broken Bones in Birmingham," Trott says. "I grew up in the same town as Paul Janeway, so I already knew the band, but I didn’t know the music. I saw them at a club called the Bottletree Café in Birmingham before anybody knew who they were. There were maybe 30 people in there. I went up to the bass player and said, ‘Y’all need to come play Music City Roots.’ And he said, ‘No, no, we aren’t ready.’ I booked them on the show a couple months later and I invited a bunch of people out and they ended up getting signed on that show with Traci at 30 Tigers. They were opening for John Mayer a couple months later."

So keep an eye out for the next live release from Music City Roots … it just might be the next great album from the next big thing. 

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WATCH: Henry Wagons, ‘Head or Heart’

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Artist: Henry Wagons
Hometown: Melbourne, Australia
Song: "Head or Heart"
Album: After What I Did Last Night …

In Their Words: "Nashville is a town full of some of the finest in music and booze. A musician's paradise! Its the perfect storm for getting in a real mess. 'Head or Heart' is a song about that time of the night when it becomes difficult to decide between your rational mind, or what's below the belt. The head or the heart." — Henry Wagons

Photo credit: Taylor Wong

Derek Hoke, ‘Trouble in Mind’

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If you live in Nashville — specifically East Nashville — then Derek Hoke is your eminent host, with his weekly $2 Tuesdays event at the 5 Spot serving as your best bet to catch a smartly curated collection of emerging talent, drink cheap beers, or make an unexpected musical discovery. (Usually, it's all of those things.) But he doesn't just throw the party; he makes its soundtrack, too. Hoke appears on stage most Tuesdays, where he works through a catalogue of songs that shudder, shake, and groove with the steely composition — and slick propriety — of boogie-woogie kings like Roy Orbison. There's a classic touch and reverence for the dying rock 'n' roll tradition of occasionally keeping it clean — crisp lyrics, tight production unmarred by fuzz, tasteful riffs, and unwrinkled blazers — with an emphasis on putting the grit where it belongs. And that's in a dirty guitar vamp or wail of the harmonica.

Nowhere is this tactic more apparent than on "Trouble in Mind," off of his new third album, Southern Moon. With mouth harp courtesy of Willie Nelson's right-hand man, Mickey Raphael, the song slinks in with a bluesy roll that Hoke's smooth vocal croons right over. Like the Black Keys on "Howlin' for You," Hoke knows the power of a good Lightnin' Hopkins-era riff sidelined by a thumping drumbeat to propel a song straight to both the balls of the foot and the gut.

"I feel it down in my soul, into my heart, out of my head, I'm always thinking of you," Hoke sings. He's got trouble in mind, alright, but it's the music itself that hints at just what kind of mischievous behavior he might be after.

New Book Pulls Back the Curtain on Nashville

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Nashville has had a rich cultural legacy for decades now, one deeply rooted in country music and Southern tradition. In more recent years, however, Music City's lesser known, non-country creative community — which boasts talent from all genres of music, as well as fields as varied as the culinary and visual arts — has gained national attention, earning praise from the New York Times, inspiring the televison show Nashville, and drawing an average of 1,500 new residents per month. In short, Nashville has been having a moment. Photographers Sonya Jasinski and Kate York sought to capture Nashville during that moment in their newly released book, Nashville: Behind the Curtain.

"Almost three years ago, Sonya was traveling back and forth, shooting artists here and we met through a mutual friend, Lucie Silvas, in town. Once I saw her photography — and I had just started taking photos myself — we both realized we had similar eyes," York says. "We started talking about what was happening in Nashville right now and how it’s such an incredible place that everyone seems to be wanting to move to, and it’s not just about country music anymore. I’m a songwriter and I was finding myself in a lot of interesting spots, as far as people I was collaborating with and moments that I really wanted to capture. So we decided to put this project together about all of the different creatives in Nashville, from songwriting process to the artists and producers and the whole collaborative part."

The book — which features a foreword from Kacey Musgraves, an introduction by Kings of Leon's Nathan Followill, and an afterword by Holly Williams — highlights Jasinksi's and York's insider's view of the city, with a stunning collection of portraits of Nashville figures, ranging from country legend Emmylou Harris to Nashville actress Connie Britton to super producer Jay Joyce. A songwriter herself — she's responsible for several of those Nashville tunes you know and love — York counts many of these figures as friends, giving the book itself that same feeling of community for which Nashville has come to be known. 

"I’ve been writing in town for over a decade, so a lot of the people in the book were already friends of mine," she explains. "Through the show Nashville, as well. Everybody just seemed really on board with it. We pitched the idea, and then our publisher wanted us to incorporate stories, as well. Originally, it was just going to be photography and it sort of morphed as we were putting the project together and it turned into us getting artist contributions and stories, asking everybody a few questions like, ‘What’s your favorite Nashville moment? What do you love about this town?’ As the stories started coming in, that’s what solidified it for me as a project. It made it feel real, and not just photography. "

Those stories, which show a deep affection for the city from both old and new residents, paint Nashville as a haven for creativity, making it no wonder so much talent and so many people have flocked here in the last few years.

"Reading people’s stories that are newer in town and seeing their outlook on how everybody has embraced them was really special, I thought," York says. "Mary Steenburgen … her contribution is one of my favorites in the book. We were writing together a few years back and that’s how I got to know her, because she’s become a songwriter later in life. She comes from the whole Hollywood scene, obviously, and once she moved to Nashville, she could not believe how many friends she had overnight. Whereas in L.A., she’s been there for probably 30 years and she said she can count on two hands how many close friends she had. When she moved to Nashville, she felt like she had a hundred immediately. I think people that move here from other cities, that seems to be kind of the overall feeling of Nashville. It’s very welcoming and not competitive. There’s a very strong community here, and you can feel that."

Get your own copy of Nashville: Behind the Curtain here.

Get Off Your Ass: May Is Upon Us

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The Cactus Blossoms // Echo // May 1

Luke Bell // Echoplex // May 1

Jackson Browne // Thousand Oaks Civic Arts Plaza // May 3

Chris Pureka // The Satellite // May 12

John Prine with Jason Isbell and Amanda Shires // Greek Theatre // May 13

Richard Thompson // Teragram Ballroom // May 14

Andrew Bird // The Theatre at Ace Hotel // May 14-15

Joseph Arthur // Troubadour // May 16

Damien Jurado // Troubadour // May 18

Tim O'Brien // McCabe's Guitar Shop // May 22

Petunia & the Vipers // El Cid // May 26

Brett Dennen // El Rey Theatre // May 27

Punch Brothers // Schermerhorn Symphony Center // May 2

Bonnie Raitt // Ryman Auditorium // May 3-4

Charles Bradley // Exit/In // May 4

The Avett Brothers // Bridgestone Arena // May 6

Lucinda Williams // Ryman Auditorium // May 8

Hayes Carll // The Basement East // May 11

Fruition // Exit/In // May 12

Old Crow Medicine Show // Country Music Hall of Fame // May 12-13

Dale Watson // Nashville Palace // May 13

Dylan Fest featuring Jason Isbell, Emmylou Harris, Kacey Musgraves, Holly Williams, Nikki Lane, Rayland Baxter, Ruby Amanfu, Amanda Shires, Cory Chisel, Robert Ellis, and more  // Ryman Auditorium // May 23-24

Billy Joe Shaver // City Winery // May 28

Will Hoge // City Winery // May 29

Carrie Rodriguez // National Sawdust, Brooklyn // May 1

Mary Chapin Carpenter // 92nd Street Y // May 1

Delta Rae // Bowery Ballroom // May 2

Elephant Revival and Ben Sollee // Bowery Ballroom // May 4

M. Ward // Webster Hall // May 4

James Taylor // Carnegie Hall // May 5

Joan Osborne // City Winery // May 8

Loudon Wainwright III and Iris Dement // Tarrytown Music Hall // May 13

Graham Nash // Town Hall // May 14

Parsonsfield // Mercury Lounge // May 20

Lindsay Lou & the Flat Bellys and Ana Egge // Rockwood Music Hall, Stage 2 // May 24

Roosevelt Dime & the Bruce Harris Orchestra // National Sawdust // May 29

Brandy Clark: Sassy, Sentimental, and Sultry at Sold-Out Nashville Show

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The thing about shows in Nashville is, even though there are sometimes way too many of them happening at once, local artists gone big often try to do something special for the hometown crowd. So, for her second-ever Music City show with a full band, Brandy Clark played the songs from her upcoming album (Big Day in a Small Town, out June 10) last night at a sold-out Basement East, and it was, indeed, something special.

Coming off the wild success of 2013's 12 Stories, Clark had a high bar to clear with her sophomore set: making a record that would please not only her loyal fans, but also her major label, music critics, and radio programmers. Based on what we heard last night, she has cleared that bar with room to spare. It really is a record with something for everyone, as the crowd — which included representatives from all those demographics — was equally responsive to the radio readiness of “Girl Next Door” and “Love Can Go to Hell,” as well as the stone cold country of “Drinkin' Smokin' Cheatin'” and “Daughter.”

Because Clark wields sass so well, as evidenced again and again in this new batch of songs (“Big Day in a Small Town” and “Broke,” among quite a few others), it would be easy to peg her as a certain kind of songwriter. But she's no one-trick pony; she also knows how to get to the real heart of a matter, even when the story isn't her own. “Three Kids No Husband” and “Since You've Gone to Heaven” fit that bill very, very well. While the sassy and sentimental perspectives were both present on the 12 Stories tunes, this time around, Clark sneaks in a third glance in the form of the sultry-as-all-get-out love song that is “You Can Come Over” which she sang the hell out of last night.

After making her way through the BDST material, Clark closed her set by reaching back in the catalog for “Get High” and “Hungover” because songs about weed and booze always, ALWAYS go over well with the country crowd. In fact, they went over so well that the calls and applause for more lingered long after the house music was already up. For Brandy Clark and everyone at the B-East, it was a big … night in a not-so-small town. And it was wonderful.

Set List
“Soap Opera”
“Girl Next Door”
“Homecoming Queen”
“Broke”
“You Can Come Over”
“Love Can Go to Hell”
“Big Day in a Small Town”
“Three Kids No Husband”
“Daughter”
“Drinkin' Smokin' Cheatin'”
“Since You've Gone to Heaven”
“Get High”
“Hungover”

Dear Chris Stapleton

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From: Patrick Haynes
To: Chris Stapleton
Date: Monday, April 4, 2016 at 11:44 AM
Subject: write?

Hey man!

How’s it going, Chris? I’m in Nashville for a few weeks visiting from L.A. to see if I want to pursue songwriting full-time. I’ve been busking outside the bars on Division trying to meet some fellow troubadours, earn a few bucks, and score pub deals. I got some weird looks for setting up my iPad and Square inside my guitar case, even though that’s how most of us West Coast songwriters and bums get paid nowadays.

Anyway, I’ve been asking around town to see who’s hot these days and your name keeps coming up. You’re definitely at the top of my list of people I want to connect with while I’m in town, so I wanted to see how your schedule looks the next couple weeks. I bet if we got together in a room for an afternoon, we could knock out a huge hit.

A little about me: My style is a bit Sheena Easton meets Skrillex, with a dash of New Jack Swing for good measure. My mom sang at church and my dad was always playing the radio in the car, so I come from a very rich musical background. I definitely want to get into country music — Kid Rock and Hootie were formative influences on my songwriting.

Oh, and I have a beard and a hat that’s never been washed, too! Great minds, right? 

And, hey, Chris, if you don’t have time this week to schedule a co-write with me, maybe we can just grab a beer with Dave. Would love an intro. What’s your cell?

All warms,
p.

The above is a work of satire. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental … although entirely likely.

Photo courtesy of Chris Stapleton

SHIFT LIST: Chef Carla Hall Likes a Little Rhythm in Her Blues

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Carla Hall had been on television a lot before she filmed the debut episode of The Chew, the food-focused daytime talk show she co-hosts on ABC alongside Mario Batali, Michael Symon, Clinton Kelly, and Daphne Oz. After all, she had been a finalist on Top Chef in 2008 and the fan favorite a few years later Top Chef: All-Stars, thanks to her indefatigable positivity, vibrant cooking, and cheery catchphrase — “Hootie hoo!” But reality TV hadn’t really prepared her for being filmed on stage in front of a live audience in the fall of 2011.

“I was so nervous on the first day,” she says.

Luckily for her, the DJ who was keeping the crowd entertained played something that struck a chord. (She doesn’t remember what, admitting, “I’m the worst when it comes to remembering people or their songs.”)

Whatever it was, it inspired her to run out into the crowd and begin dancing. A network executive, who was watching the scene unfold, ordered the crew to have a high-energy, Carla-specific playlist created. Now, it blares out of the speakers before almost every taping of the show. “It’s a way for me to connect with the audience, get out of my head, and loosen myself up,” says Hall, who put together this playlist to create a similar atmosphere.

Her gig at The Chew has given the Nashville-born chef a chance to hang out and cook with some of her favorite musicians, including Kimberly Schlapman of smooth-singing country quartet Little Big Town, Patti LaBelle, and Gladys Knight. “Food and music go hand in hand,” says Hall. “A lot of these guys spend a lot of time on the road, so they focus a lot on getting good food versus just having crap food from craft services.”

On this particular day, she’s prepping to tape a segment with Seal, where they’ll be cooking a blackened shrimp salad. “I’m so excited,” she says. “I can’t wait to meet him. There’s some music that reminds you of a certain time in your life. He reminds me of being in London when I was just beginning to get into food.”

Her mind is equally occupied with the upcoming debut of Carla Hall’s Southern Kitchen, which is set to open in Brooklyn, New York, in late April. Inspired by the cooking of her birthplace — she now divides her time between her home in D.C. and New York City, where The Chew is taped — the restaurant will specialize in Nashville hot chicken. “Because it’s a Nashville thing, there has to be country music,” she says. “It will range from bluegrass to country rock and country pop, as well as blues and R&B — some old; some new.”

It’s a far cry from what Hall listens to in the kitchen when she’s cooking. “I want something that’s really low-key, because I want to hear the food make sounds,” she says. “If I have something in the pan, I want to hear it sizzle. But if all the food is done and I’m plating up, that’s another story. Then the music becomes much more upbeat, as I shift into party mode.”