Busker bands

It’s common enough to hear solo performers or duos busking but less common to hear full bands. Especially decent ones that are interesting.

We came across the Ebony Hillbillies playing in the subway one day. I’ve played Cajun and related musics in the past and it has an attraction for me. This was great hoedown music played with energy and groove and entertaining if distant presence. They were performing under a banner which suggests they were authorized and perhaps respected by the city. Whatever, they had a great crowd and were a loud and exuberant change from the stuffy and busy (and effective) subway. The Ebony Hillbillies are henrique prince (violin), Norris Bennett (banjo), David Colding (bass) and I missed the name of the drummer.

Rasheed and the Jazz Collective were playing a lovely evening in Washington Square Park. There were lots of people strolling on a reflective 9/11 Sunday and the squirrels were out busily entertaining themselves in the trees. Rasheed does a great line in double trumpets (we heard trumpet & flugelhorn) which will always go down well when busking, but which was surprisingly effective for the simple but rich harmonies he could produce. Rasheed has toured with the Sun Ra Arekstra and Cecil Taylor (everyone around here has connections). I especially liked Adam Kabak on bass, who was playing fully acoustic and did a very generous, extended solo with nice purpose. Rasheed Richard Howard (trumpet, flugelhorn) led the Jazz Collective with Adam Kabak (bass) and Dan Picton (drums) and I missed the name of the accompanying trumpeter.

Otherwise interesting was a duo of marimba and double bass that busked the subway in brightly-coloured animal costumes. It’s hot down there, so it could not have been comfortable. We were on another platform so no names and I don’t know how well this approach pays.

Most worthy recommendations

My outing to the Jazz Gallery to hear Daniel Szabo and band with guest Chris Potter came with a string of recommendations. DS had plaudits from Martial Solal and had won the piano competition under his name; Jazz Gallery was suggested by one Australian musician now resident in NYC as the only jazz venue he needs; Chris Potter is on everyone’s lips and I’d heard him with Dave Holland anyway so knew what to expect. But I was still floored. It was a sadly poorly attended gig, but this small, informal, concert-like venue and the band produced the goods.

The music is mostly written by DS although altoist Kristof Bacso provided at least one compostion. It’s a strangely sounding form of jazz, as much European jazz is. There are influences of classical, in the capability of the players but also in the structure of the improvisations, but perhaps more of east-European folk music in the complex, convoluted, jagged melodies. I often count tunes, and did this time, and realized they were all in 3 or 6 other than one in 5 and one that repeated at 20 but I wasn’t sure how that divided up. I mentioned this to bassist Jozsef Barcza Horvath in the break and he said it was just luck of the draw. I asked the same to DS after the gig and he said the same. I’m not so sure; I don’t think there was one four. The combination of instruments was different too. This band used percussion rather than drums and added a cello. The cello added that bowed string sound, and this was welcome and Balaza Kantor was a seriously good player and improviser, but it was the percussion most varied the tone from US jazz. The rhythms by Andras Des were much the same, but the tone was softer, less insistent and less punchy, and the result was a gentler although no less active groove. I heard this in bassist Jozsef Barcza Horvath’s tone, but especially in the comparison of sax solos. Chris Potter’s sound was muscular whilst KB’s was intimate. It may make little difference in a studio, but on stage it was obvious. The approaches of the two saxes was also different for most of their solos. CP’s approach was classic modern jazz, with four note structures that stated the chord and modes with immense clarity. KB’s solos were initially more effusive, with lines that moved in long sprees that changed tonality with the underlying harmonic movements, but I noticed he also played a more four-note jazz structure in later solos.

The playing all round was great. I mention the classical training, not simply for their skill levels and the wonderful classical training that so many Euro jazzers have, but also for their approach to melody. There’s a breadth and sense of embellishment and melodic structure that shouts classical to me. DS and KB sounded that way. There was also a sense of rubato and dynamics that I also associate with classical music, and this music had that.

There’s more to say. The band is from Budapest, Hungary, and has worked with a string of collaborators including CD releases with Chris Potter and Kurt Rosenwinkel. There was one piece in four, a ballad called Tangiers and written by Chris Potter which was in US jazz territory and played with subtlety and relative sparseness by the duo of DS and CP. The band took off with energy in solos, but especially with CP who is so unforced but so powerful and well structured. CP mainly played tenor, but also played soprano and bass clarinet once each.

Whatever, this was too poorly attended for such a good concert. It was a great night of complex jazz with some wonderful playing and Chris Potter’s stunning presence. Memorable. Daniel Szabo (piano), Kristof Bacso (soprano, alto sax), Balaza Kantor (cello), Jozsef Barcza Horvath (double bass) and Andras Des (percussion) were joined by Chris Potter (soprano, tenor sax, bass clarinet) at the Jazz Gallery, NYC.

Off Broadway

We are in New York, and for many people that says Broadway rather than jazz, so we had to attend at least a few theatrical performances. There’s a mass of them here, but the choice was not as difficult as you might think. We chose Freud’s last session as an intellectual drama outing and Avenue Q as a quirky musical. No pics allowed of either, so this is a dry article. In fact, I took a pre-production pic of the stage setting of the play and was required to delete it. And also surprising in this land-of-the-free, there’s a law against using a cell phone in a theatre in NYC. I can understand the annoyance, but was surprised anyone bothered to make a law about it, but then theatre is big business here.

Freud’s last stand (by Mark St. Germain) is a recreation of a possible, but unconfirmed) meeting between Freud and CS Lewis on 3 September 1939. The setting is Freud’s study in London at the context is Chamberlain announcing the start of hostilities in WW2, but the concern is the existence of God. Freud is an atheist; CS Lewis is a converted Christian of 12 years. The script rehashes the arguments for the existence of God (36 arguments for the existence of God by Rebecca Newberger Goldstein is well summarized on the Edge http://www.edge.org/3rd_culture/goldstein09/goldstein09_index.html complete with philosophical definitions and names and flaws). Freud is also dying with throat cancer, so it’s no surprise that he was flummoxed by Pascal’s wager at the end (essentially, it’s a better option to believe in God because if you’re wrong and s/he exists, you’re in trouble). I thought the script leaned a bit to the side of God with some theatrical conventions thrown in for drama and comedy. The play was performed in Marjorie Deane’s Little Theater which turned out to the in the West Side YMCA, an intriguing building of itself, so the play was earnest and the audience was too. I’ve considered the arguments before so made up my mind, so I left thinking over other themes. This play was written in the USA in 2009. What the likelihood that a play on the existence of God would be written anywhere else these days? Also, the CS Lewis character was pretty wooden. It could have been because the actor was a substitute, but alternatively, does this suggest something about comparative understanding of UK by Australia and the USA? I’m not likely to find an answer to either question, but they were interesting diversions.

The musical was Avenue Q. Avenue Q is actually a street in Brooklyn and is part of this enlightenment mania with naming roads over here (it works and I like it). This is a musical with puppets that visits a range of issues of modern life: love, sex, rejection, porn, racism, poverty, homelessness, purpose. Obviously, the puppets are take-offs of sesame Street, but it works a treat. The actors are on stage, carrying their puppets, singing and speaking their parts; and there are a few human roles. You soon adjust to the life of the puppets and their alter-ego humans as merged characters. It’s a thoroughly enjoyable show, very well sung and presented, intelligent and good-natured. Nothing too heavy, but its heart is in the right place. Committed types would find it wishy-washy and too accepting of diversity. I really enjoyed it, came out with a song in my heart and a smile on my face (as they say). On the way, we asked directions to the theatre, and one wily senior New Yorker described it as cute. It’s also described as Sesame Street meets South Park, but it’s more sly and sassy than black. Very much enjoyed and very well done.

Avenue Q pic borrowed from the Net, but it's promotional so I'm guessing that's OK. No pics allowed at the performance, of course

Predating subways

I noticed another night at the Village Vanguard that good acoustics are no match for passing subway trains. Artek had to deal with both subways and the buzz of passing traffic but they were a delight despite this urban bugbear. Artek are a baroque music ensemble formed by keyboardist Gwendolyn Toth and dubbed “the art of the Early Keyboard”. They have toured internationally, recorded and performed at many renowned venues, including the local Lincoln Center in 2010. We heard them at the Immanuel Lutheran Church for one of its midday, Midtown concerts, and it was delightful.

They played six pieces of virtuoso violin music. Everyone would recognise Pachelbel’s ubiquitous Canon. The other pieces were by Uccellini, Marini, Schmelzer, Rosenmuller. This is a music of shared melody, as lines pass between violins, and often to the viola da gamba, or are mirrored on the harpsichord or theorbo. Now that was new to me: I had never heard this instrument live or seen it up close. It’s a many-stringed instrument, part-harp and part-lute, and sounding somewhat like an early nylon-strung guitar. This is also music of counterpoint and figured bass, where the bass line is improvised on annotations suggesting extensions (eg, 7 6 or 6 may be written over a passage). The music is written for 4 parts, essentially strings (three violins/violas and viola da gamba), the theorbo improvised its part and the harpsichord does the lot as it wishes. That’s a thought to warm the cockles of a jazz follower. The group had trouble with tuning these gut strung on older instruments on a day of rain and humidity, but this was music of courtly decorum, dignified presentation and interesting melodic conversation played by some very capable players. We’ve been surprised by the small choice of fine music on offer here in NYC, but this was delightful.

Artek are Gwendolyn Toth (harpsichord), Theresa Saloman (baroque violin/viola), Vita Wallace (baroque violin), Marka Young (baroque violin), Motomi Igarashi (viola da gamba) and Daniel Swertberg (theorbo) and they performed for the first Midtown concert of this year’s series at the Immanuel Lutheran Church on Lexington Ave, NYC.

Bass shopping

I was amazed earlier in the day when I visited a photographic store in NYC. B&H was so big and so well supplied with what must be every model of every camera on display, as well as pro-audio, telescopics and computing. And it was busy. We can now get all this stuff online at similar prices, but its presence in one shop was an eye-opener.

It’s similar with basses, and David Gage is the store. It’s New York’s renowned luthier. I was discussing this with a staff member who showed me around, and he said there are only ~7 shops of its type in the world. It sounds a small number but I guess it’s feasible. There’s not such a big market in quality acoustic basses and the hand setups and repairs that go with them. As proof that basses are a small world, I was impressed when he knew of all the major Australian luthiers. Fellow bassist have recommended a visit and I came somewhat as a pilgrimage. And BTW, they also have lots of cellos around the store.

Interestingly, I spied another side of this city just outside the door in the raid: a fashion shoot. I’ve only been here a few days, but I’ve seen several fashion shoots, overheard girls talking of being photographed and seen a movie being made outside Grand Central Station. Go figure. This is much more than I’ve come across in Australia, or even London, Rome, Milan, Paris and the like.

A walk in the Park

It’s raining as I write this, but it was warm and humid when we walked around Central Park in NYC. It’s a delightful and intricate expanse, and busy on a hot Labor Day public holiday Monday. Here are some pics of some musical / interesting occurrences. An alto player from Montenegro whose son who works as a chef in Sydney. Vassily, a bassist who was setting up to busk classical solo bass in the park. A lesbian marriage ceremony. People taking pics at the Imagine mosaic at Strawberry Fields, in memory of John Lennon, and the guitar/singer who was playing Beatles songs by the side. This is just near his Dakota apartments where JL was shot. A photo of the A Train, as in Ellington’s famed theme tune, one of which we took to 125th Street in Harlem. Lovely day, some very friendly and helpful people and a bit of NYC (and for that matter, world) history.

Oh, Linda

I could warm to living in NYC especially if I had an independent income. I feel at home when I cross a road and recognise someone. Linda Oh was crossing against us and we had a small chat about who was playing at Smalls. It is a S/small world. We were off to hear the Vanguard Jazz Orchestra at the Village Vanguard and to catch up with John Riley who had recently been in Canberra. But the whole band seemed to have changed. John was replaced, as was the bassist, and Jim McNeely wasn’t on piano. I didn’t catch all the names, but I’m pretty sure many of the horns were changed too. It must be the Labor Day long weekend that’s done it, but I enjoyed the music none-the-less. This is richly orchestrated music with lots of melodic undercurrents, fills, dynamics and the rest and the band was tight and superbly dynamic and genuinely well intoned. Solos in big ensembles are heavily circumscribed and can suffer from that, but these were some decent soloists and they were also much enjoyed. This is the continuation of the Thad Jones-Mel Lewis Orchestra, so there were charts by Thad Jones, a Mintzer arrangement of Herbie Hancock (One finger snap) and even a Hendrix tune (Up from the skies) rearranged for the band. Nice players make the lush reeds, the mellifluous trombones and the blatant trumpets so obvious and pleasing. The Vanguard Jazz Orchestra played at the Village Vanguard, but who know who the performers were. Sadly no pics.

Uncanny beauty

Paul Motion is as long-standing in jazz as I can imagine and I was delighted to find he was playing at Village Vanguard on a night that I was in NYC in a trio format with Ben Monder and Jerome Sabbagh. Again I find myself stunned and delighted with the beauty in a music that I only touch in understanding. I can hear the roles and sometimes the methods, but I can’t imagine the distance you go to play like this. I wonder from the books whether it should work but it so obviously does. These drums that are so sparse and jagged and seemingly outside time. The sax that explores pitch and intervals but always tonally. This is not a music of alterations or substitutions, at least not that I heard from the sax. And guitar that plays with more dissonance although from within the chord, from extensions, in counterpoint with single note runs or chordal melody, finger-picked or plectrum plucked, always mildly echoed and just once overdriven and another time more wildly effected with ringing harmonics. I first guessed that most of the tunes were originals with chordal movements that were intriguing enough of themselves to support this and still sound contemporary. These tunes were jagged or balladic or call-and-responsive, and at least one seemed to me as unlikely chunks of melody that converged strangely but successfully. But they also played several standards, Good morning heartache and Sophisticated lady, so it’s not just the structure or harmony of these tunes that makes this such a unique and beauteous music. I guess it’s that sense of time that floats but also it’s an uncanny anticipation that I came to hear later in the night, during the second, repeated set. BM was reading, and yet he seemed to perfectly predict some of JS’s lines and certainly PM had been doing that all night with both the other players. Perhaps it’s also the lack of bass that’s part of this airiness of time, not just PM’s drums that are so free from the duties of time-keeping. I don’t really know how or why it works, but I can feel it does. Idiosyncratic or iconoclastic, perhaps; unique, probably; impressionistic, I guess so. Whatever else you may say, these were two sets of deeply intriguing and moving music and I’m so glad I got to hear these two wonderful sets.

Paul Motion (drums) led a trio of Ben Monder (guitar) and Jerome Sabbagh (tenor sax) at the Village Vanguard.

There were no pics during the performance and I’m told PM doesn’t like photos, so nothing of him, but I came across Ben and Jerome at the bar and here they are. Hello also to bartender and drummer Ryan Cavan. He’d been to Australia on tour with an R&B outfit, The Healers, and had a great time, a memorable gig in Canberra with a capable support band, and been feted with interviews on ABC666. How small is this world these days? Hello also to Dan Tepfer whose face I was sure I knew.

Not at all Bird-like

I was put off even before the first notes of Gary Peacock at Birdland. I should have guessed. I’m not one for the moody approach of Keith Jarrett and his ilk. But I can warm to it with my eyes closed and GP has played widely since KJ and I should maintain an open mind. But Birdland started me off badly this day, with its Parisian Café chic and its suited formality and its “Quiet policy” and its refusal of any pics. Thus the feature pic above: the sidewalk outside Birdland. Call me purist, but I was thinking good jazz creates listeners around it. The club worries about talking or mobiles, but its waiters still hover during the performance and there’s a decent amount of cutlery clatter to muddy the percussion in the room and nothing is said. Then there’s the Birdland shop we were offered when invited to leave after our short set. They say the business of America is business, and this looked liked that. We left disappointed. Oh, but how as the band? I felt that Gary Peacock took on some of the distant formality of the venue, not speaking until the penultimate tune when he introduced the band before an escapologist’s departure with nary any recognition from the band. Certainly no bows. What have I forgotten? Oh yeah, the music.

This was a renowned set of players: Gary Peacock, Marc Copland, Victor Lewis. Marc Copland floored me with a subtlety of invention and fluency. Lithe movements in harmony, distilled melody that sat deep in this harmony, chromatic moves with the moody voicings and chordal approaches of Debussy. He was often hunched over the piano in concentration, but I also saw gazes at the band members in a few passages. There was a lovely, clear intent in his playing despite some challenging sounds. I felt he provided the most groove of all the band, but perhaps that’s not unexpected in this style. Gary Peacock was fluent and obviously exploring some very challenging scales and substitutions but I heard him as all counterpoint rather than groove. The band approached tunes in a standard way (head, then solos passed around, then head, even swapping fours on a few tunes) but I only remember one walk and there were a few ostinato bass lines. I can’t think that I’ve heard more exploratory harmonic explorations on bass and I found it hard to follow. I worried about his intonation at times but these were explorative harmonies that I had trouble fathoming. I loved his explosive solo lines that would run up the neck, clear and precisely intoned and with more obvious harmony. I often had my eyes closed, but I didn’t notice much of a smile on his face, so maybe he wasn’t enjoying the night. Victor Lewis did his part with ease and comfort as another layer of colour. He was a big man, but moved bodily over the kit and sounded sharp and precise, but no surprises there.

There were many tunes I didn’t recognise, and All blues and My foolish heart and a bopper that I did. It was very good, of course, and I have friends who would have melted at the playing, and I did too, especially the piano. Maybe it’s just this formal concert style that leaves me cold, but it wasn’t a favourite outing, as it was not for the Belgian drummer and his wife sitting at the next table. We were all impressed if a little disappointed, but nothing I shouldn’t have expected.

What connections!

It’s a tale, tall but true, that those who survive are well connected. In jazz, performers note their connections as their CV. I looked up those for Don Friedman’s quartet on Wikipedia and it’s a stunner. It includes, but doesn’t stop at, Ornette Coleman, Chet Baker, Pepper Adams, Booker Little, Michel Petrucciani, Stan Getz, Pointer Sisters and Dionne Warwick. I could have guessed. These guys were mature, capable, absolutely swinging and committed and hard working. The long first set said it all. This was a blast. Hot and inventive playing, impassioned and hard-hitting. And in a little club like Smalls where they have to climb over you just to get gear in and out.

First on I noticed a seventies world-jazz vibe. Perhaps it was the rippling piano, the earnest flute and the syncopated bass that reminded me of a favourite album by Norman Connors. I mentioned it to Don and he didn’t recall it. But then into good solid hard-bop with piano that was nicely behind the beat in solos. Bass that was hard swinging, unintrusive in accompaniment with steady and beautifully predictable patterns, but authoritative solos that steadied then exploded up the neck with runs of easy speed, soft tone and accurate pitch. This was two hands as one on piano, all melded together to express easy chords over varying ranges. Soprano sax that also fit the ‘70s era with indistinct pitches pleading through various alterations and perhaps Arabic scales. Most of the tunes were originals, and mostly they were approached as hard-bop, sharing solos and swapping fours between heads. But there were also ballads and a classical interlude with Don’s Chopinesque and a new melody to the chords of All the things you are, called Almost everything, rewritten in the tradition of the boppers. They finished on a What is this thing called love, with a final touch of Hothouse. And hot it was in Smalls. This was hot and loud playing, committed and powerful swing and I loved it.

Don Friedman (piano) led a quartet with Mel Martin (flute, soprano, tenor sax), Harvie S (bass) and Eliot Zigmund (drums) at Smalls, NYC.

The Aussies have it

I was surprised to be catching an Australian at the local jazz club on my first night in NYC but I shouldn’t be. There’s a great awareness of Australian actors here in the USA. JC Stylles is not a household name like Kate Blanchett or Russell Crowe, but he put on a lovely, rollicking show with his organ trio. Organ trios are like that: sweet flowing music with softly rounded tone and those wonderful chordal swells that only an organ can do, with the bouncy, fresh guitar. JCS did a fine job with crisp acoustic tone, delicate pick work and rapid runs that played with the wispy music that supported his solos. I loved Pat Bianchi’s organ. He looked around and played joyfully behind the guitar, but for solos his eyes were closed in a sly grin of comfortable concentration and the lines were busily arpeggiated and rich in easy-going dissonance that did no disservice to the cheery nature of this format. The drummer was Carmen Latorre who swung with ease and stunned me with what must have been the loudest snap this side of Philly (but this is a small room). This was the downtown release of JC’s new CD, although the drummer was changed. An entertaining and lively concert in the fine mainstream tradition of the organ trio.

JC Stylles (guitar) led an organ trio at Smalls Jazz Club, NYC, with Pat Bianchi (organ) and Carmen Latorre (drums).

Big city, small club

We’d arrived by bus from DC at Penn Station on 9th Ave. We staying at W4th street, right down 9th Ave, right in the heart of the West Village. All thanks to Megan who had found an apartment just a short block from Smalls and Village Vanguard. This is cool. I saw the sign as we passed for Smalls Friday afternoon jam session. We lodged our luggage and managed 30 minutes and the two bands we saw were both decent with two good double bassists. The first was playing a bop blues as I entered – a common one that I could recognise but not name. The second band was led by a singer, so attractive and involving. An Australian was playing that evening, JC Styles. He was having a CD launch for his organ trio early on. We had a local Italian dinner (very good and homely, as I reckon Italian food should be). I made a return to Smalls (more later). As the name says, it’s small, but drinks are OK and entry covers the whole night and there’s no compulsion to buy drinks (although I do), unlike other clubs. So far, this is jazz Heaven. You’ve maybe seen it on the internet video feed, but here are some pics. The website is wonderful, but live audio feeds and recordings of numerous performances.

Smalls

On a high

I’m on a high as I write this. I’ve just played my first performance in the USA. The USA is the home of jazz, of course, so I am wont to be a little tame. But it was fun and I trust I represented Australian (Canberra) jazz well enough. It was a nice little outing playing Real Book charts. The bar was friendly, the music was pleasant and the company was great. Thanks to Juliette for the loan of the bass, to the fellow players for the outing and to David and Adriana for the great conversation. Much enjoyed. The place was the Takoma Station Tavern and they have a jam every Wednesday night. I also noticed another local venue called the Bohemian Caverns which has some impressive artists visiting (Eubanks, Turré, Moran appear in the next month). They were staging poetry that night and I might have got there but I was enjoying the playing too much.

Washington DC is an easy, interesting, international city. Here’s just one other pic of a socio-political nature. We walked past the White House north entrance. This is the business side: the south faces the Mall and is the tourist side. There was a demonstration against the tar-sands oil pipeline (a big climate change issue in the US). Protesters were being arrested continuously (Darryl Hannah, James Hansen and Bill McKibbon had been arrested in recent days) but I also spoke to a woman who has been protesting against nukes on this spot since 1981: Conchita Picciotto. You have to admire the commitment.

Shipshape 1

Now I report an indulgent time: cruising the Inside Passage to Alaska. I’d been on a ship before, but Megan hadn’t and wanted the experience. So be it.

I was interested in the musicians and the aurorae if less the ice. It was too cloudy for aurorae but I ended up stunned by the glaciers and we heard some very decent musicians on our Sapphire Princess.

La Boheme was a lovely string quartet from the Ukraine. This was chamber music, some Mozart and Boccherini, Vivaldi and Handel and Hadyn, Elgar and Puccini - very civilised but also gently pleasant music with classical integrity. The musicians played with a real ease of melody and accompaniment, no hesitation, strong dynamics and a feel for the charts. I enjoyed listening to the parts as they merged and contrasted, and the pizzicato playing as it moved between instruments. Very beautiful and very dignified. I was amused when one player said to me that “jazz is life”. So is this, in spades, even if it speaks with the language of another era. La Boheme comprised Adrian Biodnar (violin 1), Olesya Masnyk (violin 2), Dmytro Nosal (viola) and Julia Griaznova (cello).

Steve Savage was a singer/pianist out of New Jersey playing piano bar sets with a nice New Orleans blues vibe. Here was music of the modern era: syncopations and an earthy roughness. All the favourite singer/songwriters: Carole King, James Taylor, JJ Cale, Harry Chapin, Billy Joel, Elton John, Elvis Costello and the like, and Dr John with some sleazy down-south marching grooves. On the first night, I particularly noticed that his voice suited Let it be. I love the Beatles, but he’d already won me over by then. Steve was trained at Berklee where he was in the Motown band. He’s well travelled – he’s booked soon for a month in a club in Amsterdam.

Tatiana Karmatskaya also performed a piano solo sets, but this was instrumental and classically influenced and performed with fine music technique. There were instrumental versions of a range of musical and pop tunes of the mid-20th Century but Tatiana is classically trained and played a lovely Bach prelude (C major) on request. It remains stunning to me to hear such music at close hand, picking up on the altered notes, the F#s and Bbs and Abs: chromaticism, modes, extensions, intervals – all there and recognisable to the jazz player. Tatiana was from the Ukraine, and interestingly had played in an orchestra with the cellist from La Boheme quartet.