Asado Summer

Like the word barbecue, asado means both meat and the act of grilling it, which usually becomes an all-out party. Back in Buenos Aires there were no less than 3 asados in the first 3 days of my return, all with meat as lovely as the friends who grilled it. It's good to be home.


Caught up with an old friend from elementary school in LA, Bret, who happened to have been living here the past couple of years working in South American investments. Facebook got us together for lunches and comparing notes on Argentina. Nate, of Alternative Latin Investor, helped me say goodbye to him at the Evita Museum cafe the other day.

Dick El Demasiado y Los Exagerados (peep the translation!) played at the Hotel Bauen and I went with good friends for good times. The Hotel was taken over by its employees after the peso crash and runs as a collective to this day, a real commie hotel (doesn't sound that glamorous does it?). There I met an Italian Spaniard from Texas who lives in Belgium and was traveling north to Bolivia. And I decided to go with him to Cordoba to the folklore festival. Which was amazing.








The festival included legendary performers of traditional and contemporary song and dance. But the after-hours parties were the best, local peñas where bands played and everyone danced the chacarera, zamba, vidala, all these cool dances that everyone knew and loved and it was anything but old and stodgy, Cosquin made folk music cool and, well, sexy.





After a lot of great music, we got to explore the local watering hole and river shore scene. Cows and horses grazed freely and so did all ages of locals from families to couples and old folks. My multilingual friend and I were the only foreigners and we enjoyed waterfalls and rocky treks. I biked my way around after loading up on steak sandwich for a picnic, he wasn't as gluttonous in the heat but I needed ammo for all that trekking about.

In the evening, there were concerts at balnearios along the river. I caught a couple of great shows before heading to the bus back to BA.

Before Argentina comes New York

Studying economics during a global financial meltdown in Europe made me look at New York City differently. It's a city with incredible wealth, even in a depression. It's more vibrant and free than its Euro counterparts. Most importantly, it's the city where some of my favorite people live.

I spent Christmas between Manhattan and the South Bronx, visiting Erika and Manny at their house with kids and dog and extended family. Then train down to Tisra's to meet friends for a singles Xmas with singing and guitars.






Xmas Eve involved my Uruguayan/Argentine homie Matias and good friend Elijah. We attended Heebonism in the LES, a very entertaining experience, especially with my affectionate friend playing the role of typical Argentine, PDA-ing all over the place.

There was the awkward immigration lawyer who tried to adopt us mid-kiss and then hit on me when Mati went to the bathroom. There were the women who talked to Jermaine and Elijah, asking if they were Jewish, when at any other function they wouldn't care a bit. But I've been there, like any J-event, a Heeb party includes an agenda. I advised the boys to lie.

From Buenos Aires to NYC has been weirder with each visit over the past 3 years. This time around I came from Central Europe and, well, it was a lot to try to take in. Each of the places I've spent time in are safe enough and offer a nice life. But living in each has its pluses and minuses that sort of break your heart, letting you see what one gives up in exchange for the global marketplace.

In the Paris subway, I found a spontaneous party on Saturday night.

What is clear after jumping from Argentina (where life is much like it was 50 years ago) to Europe and then to NYC is that having time in your day is the most valuable asset one can have. Italy has less than it did, last time I was there a decade ago. And it has all the problems that come with that loss. Bs As is painfully poor compared to Europe and people are caught between the benefits of not being a part of the global marketplace - having time and social dignity - and becoming increasingly impoverished as a result of falling far behind.

But I'm very unconvinced on the material front. I won't stay in Argentina forever, I think the divide of haves and have nots is going to get uglier in the coming years. And I miss old friends and family. But the people here have so much that we in the U.S. lost over the past couple of generations. They are rich on the human side, from not being scared of a stranger in the street, to having time to nurture relationships at home. They can spend hours working out a problem, until it is resolved and everyone involved is okay. Many people live three-generations to a house and they get along. Activities take place in groups and people really enjoy being together. All this in the big city they describe as stressful, fast and too modern. What would they call NYC?

Trains, Planes and Euro-mobile

Europe has those fast trains, budget flights and free bikes in the big cities. It has fancy eats and metrosexual men, the thinnest ladies and the most polite children. Europe has a declining population and accelerating immigration. And this past month it hosted the most foreign of elements - a couple of senior Hymans.

Lendog and Harlene arrived in Rome after a bumpy flight, ready to take on some Roman

history and complain about the dominance of flour-based nourishment. They were pleasantly surprised by how much the city had going on.

The Hymans went from Rome to Pompeii down south, then up to Bologna. They started with BC and worked their way through the Middle Ages with medieval Tuscan towns and on to the Renaissance in Florence. They kvetched their way around Florence and then traveled north to Verona and Venice where art, architecture, food and friendly Italians left them utterly charmed.

Two weeks of Italian discovery left me exhausted and ready for an escape. I headed to London thinking I'd visit friends there and in Brighton. After both friends cancelled on me, I met some new folks and caught up with a girl friend I'd met in Buenos Aires at a speakeasy birthday party in London. Spent a rainy weekend in Brixton with bands and no access to my bank account while I had to miss a flight waiting for Western Union to open. Two days of airport later I finally made it back home with a trip to Paris at the end of the week.

Paris and London are not shabby but not that different from NYC where you are excited about being there and at the same time terrified by how expensive every bit is. I got to a small town in Provence, outside Lyon, and was glad to get to relax without the $ stress. You feel me.

How was I in Beaujolais without worrying about budget? The family I lived with on a college exchange program moved to a town in wine country, right out of a fairy tale. If you've seen the movie Chocolat you know the setting. Stone walls and church bells and cobblestones, I only had a day there really but it left an impression. And the big house the Gannes bought and fixed up doubles as a B&B/ painter's retreat.

The last night of excellent eating was topped off by hours of wandering through Lyon's Festival de Lumieres, where the city's historic architecture becomes the screen for projections and soundscapes fill the squares. In France, I saw people I love whom I hadn't seen in more than a decade. The last time I saw Thierry from Paris, he was getting thrown out of Las Vegas strip clubs for not tipping. Now he has a wife and daughter and is president of this non-profit that brings French school children on trips to Africa.

Happy Holidays and goodbye Euroland. After final exams I sell my bike, say ciao to the guitar and the Italian guitar player and head to New York.

Blues and other things Italian

Halloween in Bologna is surprisingly festive. The setting accommodates with winding medieval passageways laid in cobblestones. College students in vampire and zombie makeup pack bars and clubs in the town center Saturday night. I met a friend studying at Johns Hopkins' campus here and we biked through the city center to meet my boyfriend the Italian bluesman. The three of us went to a cafe where a garage band played Italian and American movie hits with surf guitar and an audience of Halloween freaks. It was the last of a full month of good live music in Central Italy.





Thursday night I played with my band of Argentines. We're called Super Turista, we played acoustic versions of dance hits from the 80s along with originals and Manu Chao favorites in French and Spanish. I played rhythm guitar and juggled languages during songs and with banter between.

It wasn't Super Turista's first public venture. We hit the main square, Piazza Maggiore, a couple weeks ago playing Billie Jean and What is Love to loiterers and shoppers on the steps of Neptune's fountain. I tried to disguise myself in my turista shame, donning scarf, sunglasses, and a beanie. The hat look was a keeper, we went with it on stage at Arteria, where the whole master's program showed up and then stayed on to dance to the Taranta band afterwards.

Thank You for the Drum Machine played the same spot a week earlier to a packed house blown away by fake Brit cool.
It was one in a series of good live music including shows by Italian Blues Brothers "Lazy Step" in Tuscan inns, restaurants and town squares. Who'd have thought Muddy Waters could sound so good with a foreign accent? Riding down back roads of the Emilia-Romagna region and listening to singer and guitarist bicker in Italian made for comedic moments while I got to see some countryside and pretend to be a local.

On a visit to Florence with my Argentine roommate we met this friendly family from Calabria. They adopted us for a dance and a photo on the Ponte Vecchio where Hari Krishnas took over the Sunday tourist parade. They were 3 generations traveling together and the grandparents were the rowdiest of the group. The toothless octogenarian grandfather twirled Fer around to Krishna drums and called her bella.

Italian hip hop cheered me up earlier in the month when I was overwhelmed by the language and general tight quarters in my grad school world here. Getting to study is a luxury but there was an adjustment phase when I wanted to snap. Lucky for me, I found out I could bike across the neighborhood to the local community center where live local hip hop happens. Giovanni, in the video below, is also from Calabria and is a big Boot Camp fan. He told me he moved to Bologna because it's a center of Italian rap.

Arriving in Italy with Argentines

The word for food in Italian is cibo, pronounced cheebo. Say it, "cheeboh," and you get the feel for what it's all about. There's a swallow, followed by an instant smile, then, with the aftertaste, an oh. Oh my.


The products themselves are why it's so delicious here - the cheese and produce and the right amount of seasoning in every wicked pizza slice. Do those products not travel well, when they make their way to Trader Joe's shelves? Or do they send us the lower quality of the batch? Is it something in the air here in the Emilia Romagna? It's way too tasty in this town.




People-watching on the streets is a similar experience. A look, a smile, an "oh my." The gall of it all - the matching, over-accessorized outfits, the patterns and colors and texture that scream for the attention. Attention the outfit owners so obviously gave in executing that look which, 9 times out of 10, is ridiculous enough to elicit an "oh my" the first few days you're in town. After, your eyes adjust a bit and your fashion tolerance augments to deal with the show of elegant grannies and fashion-forward little girls. Last week I went to the coast to hole up in a hostel. In Rimini, Italians jumped on the styles of recent immigrants from Central Africa - there were clusters of elderly Italian ladies strutting the beach boulevard in corn rows.

There's a silliness here that was missing in my world in Buenos Aires. You recognize Lady Gaga's Italian heritage in the fashion compositions of admin assistants walking through Bologna's city center to work. You enjoy the free buffet that comes with cocktail hour from 6:30pm to 9pm. You marvel at the Renaissance architecture in your daily life.

I got to Bologna one week ago and I'm settling in. School started last Monday, yesterday I went to a lecture by visiting MIT prof Richard Sennett. He's known for coming up with the 10,000-hour rule that appeared throughout Malcolm Gladwell's (The Tipping Point) recent bestseller, Outliers. Everything else is in Italian so it was fun to attend a lecture in the native tongue. By the time I leave I'll be the NYC master at ordering in Italian, waddling my way home from the plane.

Argentina tour, Jersey, and NYC

NYC is still the best city in the world and it's even better with a dash of Buenos Aires. My sister and Ash picked me up at JFK in an SUV they'd just bought for a trip across the US to their new home in Oakland, CA. We went straight to Nublu in the LES to play with Mataplantas, Loisaida style. It was amazing (and frightening) to play guitar and sing new songs at one of my favorite venues in NYC! Mataplantas killed it in proper plant fashion and made new fans who danced and sang along, Argentina was definitely in the building.

I had two days to visit with Mindy in New York and then she was out. We hung out in Fort Greene between them packing up house. Wednesday I moved into their place in Brooklyn for a few days before the subletter took over the apt. Then headed uptown to spend some time with Caroline before her engagement party. I hadn't been to the beach since Brazil in February so I caught a train to Asbury Park for a look at the Jersey Shore with art legend Jonathan Levine. Bowling, boardwalks, and post-punk art kept it interesting.






Three Argentines arrived at Shrine in Harlem Wednesday night, guitars in hand from the subway, urban culture waves crashing over their first visit to the US. They finished off the night with DJ Milk Money at Happy Ending back in the LES, pogo-ing to hip hop in a packed club. Milk played sampled drums and scratched to my guitar songs. The sound was rough (I need a plug-in acoustic) but the room was excellent - full of friends and local music-lovers. Anthony Coleman's Enoeca topped off the night with live soul covers and originals.

My last show was Friday at Pianos where Micah Gaugh and Tisra Dewitt played too, Redheadphone style making it my favorite show yet. Pablo from Mataplantas accompanied me on all of the NYC shows, making them so much better with his talent and buena onda. Pianos upstairs is always a good time. Taking drums in a cab to the West Village and then trying to catch up with Apollo Heights back in the East Village and finally hitting up Williamsburg to try to catch Milk Money's set made for a long NYC night. It was fun taking the train with the Plantkillers and getting a feel for their adventures in the Apple. They could move right to Bburg and get cozy in the indie scene no doubt.



Saturday was Mataplantas final show at Hecho en Dumbo (soon to be in the Bowery) where they shared the bill with Chilean Brooklyners Nutria NN. It was my favorite of their NYC shows, with new friends in the audience and Time Out NYC snapping photos. I had to take off mid-set to go to Caroline and David's engagement party uptown. I went the wrong way on the train, got caught in a brief thunderstorm, found a loony cabby and missed the party. Once in a while, the city gets in your way. Mataplantas had a better night than I did and it was great to see music plans work out so well.






The band went home on Monday and I saw friends and family and made it to the Heeb Magazine party at Union Pool. Then I was gone too. A long rough journey got me to Bologna, where I'm writing this in a cafe near my new home at the University of Bologna.

From BA with Love

Next week I'll be in New York City playing shows with Buenos Aires' Mataplantas.

It's the band's first trip to the US - I was heading to NYC anyway and ended up booker and tour manager for my favorite BA band. We get to town next Sunday and play Nublu right off. Come listen to Red Eve with DJ Joro Boro and Argentinian band Mataplantas, "Plant Killers."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L7NaK7QXR00

I'm in town on my way to Italy to finish up a grad program at University of Bologna, where I'll live until mid-December. I'm finally playing music again after two years trying to get over nodes on my vocal chords. I've been studying with a teacher who sings opera and tango and is also a Buddist monk. He has done wonders for my voice, thought it was long gone. I'm celebrating with shows at Nublu, Pianos, Shrine, and Hecho en Dumbo in two weeks. Looking forward to seeing my New York peoples enjoying the end of summer (while we've been freezing here in winter).

Last week an artist friend, Liz Gleeson and myself threw the best party BA has seen in a minute. EEEvento had great music, food, ambiance, and cool friendly people. I can't really say enough about how well it turned out. I played guitar with my band here, we performed for the first time and shared the bill with Hermanos Macana and Mataplantas. We hit capacity (300) before 10pm and had a line down the street for a good hour. EEEvento was art by Liz, live music, Cocina Sunae's pan-Asian tasting dishes (Christina's awesome restaurant), Spanglish celebrating its new membership launch, 0800 Vino pouring local wine and ZZK Records closing it out on the dance floor. In a turn-of-the-century Frenchy mansion.


Since I wrote you last, I had a birthday, visits from LA and NYC family and friends, and a great weekend in the Pampas, in Mercedes watching gaucho horseraces.http://www.balocal.com/wp/117






Big Jim came out from LA and was here for the birthday, making it super-charged with friends and good times. My aunt Phyllis and cousin Alden came out from LA too, and we dined and wined our way around town along with another friend in town from NYC, boogaloo DJ and NYC musico Jonathan. Friends helped me dance my way through my bday and last month in Buenos Aires. Back for 2010.