The full program, over two hours of music, was a survey of the band's early hits, with a few more recent songs, presented more like a formal concert than a typical rock show. This was just as well, since the Jethro Tull fan base is on average about the same age as that of the National Symphony Orchestra. Anderson was one of the first rock musicians to play the flute and incorporate the instrument into a rock band, and he is a long-time favorite of Mrs. Ionarts, my favorite flutist. Anderson's signature style was on wild display, the Kokopelli antics and Pied Piper leg kicks, as well as the idiosyncratic flute technique. The breathy overblowing, flutter-tonguing, simultaneous sighing, singing, and humming are techniques now overused in just about every new experimental piece for flute. It must be said that without Anderson, Jethro Tull would be diminished beyond appreciation.
J. S. Bach's Bourrée (fifth movement from Suite for Lute
in E minor, BWV 996), arranged by Jethro Tull
Anderson's openness to cross-fertilization with jazz and classical music has always fascinated me. The program included two famous examples of Jethro Tull's mining of early music, both on the first half. King Henry's Madrigal is an adaptation of a melody known as Pastime with Good Company, attributed to King Henry VIII, rendered with the clunky sound of digitally reproduced harpsichord. The Ionarts all-time favorite, Bourrée, a "porno jazz" arrangement (Anderson's phrase) of a dance from a Bach lute suite, was the high point of the evening (shown above in a much earlier recording -- check out the fabulous hippie-wear).
Dave McKenna, Jethro Tull at Strathmore, Living Unabashedly in the Past (Washington Post, December 5) |
Ok, were you stoned? Flash-back memories of Emerson Lake and Palmer too.
ReplyDeletefor the first time in quite a while i felt YOUNG reading something on ionarts. :-)
ReplyDeleteIt's true that I am older than Jens, but not that much older. I was in elementary school in the 1970s, and I did listen to Jethro Tull. Being stoned may have added that final missing 70s element to the experience. ;-)
ReplyDeleteOkay, that was fun.... but oh how I long for one pure, supported tone on that flute.
ReplyDeleteAnon, absolutely. The way flutist Mrs. Ionarts describes Anderson is that he is bad, really bad, so bad that it's good. Mostly, it's the idiosyncratic approach and sound that sells it.
ReplyDeleteAhhh, Maria...the diabolical tritone...
ReplyDeleteI once interviewed Ian Anderson for the American Forces Network, Europe. It wasn't easy. He craved an antique transcription recorder sitting in the corner of the studio, and tried to make the interview conditional on the network's giving him the machine. I told him it was U.S. government property, not mine to give; he kept dickering. (Thank God he didn't see the vintage Telefunken Magnetaphon tape decks we used for editing.) I finally said he would have to ask Richard Nixon, the president at the time. We did the interview, and Anderson left empty-handed.
ReplyDeleteNow, if I remember when the first album came out, This Was, that may make me older than Jens too...oh cross eyed Mary.
ReplyDeleteTo anon:
ReplyDeletefor "pure supported tone on that flute" listen to any of the more recent Tull records- "Roots to Branches" especially. (I read that Anderson admitted, for one, he re-learned his fingering at advice from his daughter in the early 90's to improve his tonality. ) And Mr. Downey..."The playing is so good... it's good."
But I do see how Tull is an acquired taste- I happen to like them, despite their faults. I still find them much more interesting to listen to than the universally loved (it seems) Led Zeppelin, for example. But then again I like the Kinks more than the Beatles. Hmm. I think I made this argument back on the school bus in the sixth grade. "When I was young and they packed me off to school..."