Classing U Supa?

2008-4-1

Stepping off the number 9 tram at the Bertramka stop as usual, I headed up the hill, threading my way carefully around dog messes, human urine marks, and broken glass.  My mind had been wandering on the tram ride;  I realized one of my trains of thought as I saw what looked like a drug deal go down on the cross street I was approaching.  The crumbling, dirty Smichov surroundings of this Country Saloon are a harsh contrast, a dark flip side to the tended garden green of the Stresovicka neighborhood Emily and I enjoy from our apartment windows.
We found an unusually good deal with out flat, but it still is a privileged spot, one that a normal university student would have only through significant financial family intervention.  So we’re not normal, we don’t enjoy the networks of personal ties that enable “normal” Czechs to build a comfortable life on a shoestring; we’re foreign, we have to pay to get things done.
That difference, my outsiderness and (though it seems laughable to see it this way) my comparative affluence, hit me on the street.  “Tonight at the jam, I’m going to try and pay attention to difference.”  I had read through my colleague Michael’s summary of “whiteness” that day, and was reminded of “class.”  How do I deal with class in my work – the range of folks who take part in bluegrass activities here in Czech Republic?
U Supa is a good cross section: between the tuesday and thursday jams there are businessmen, tram drivers, graphic artists, students, and more.  The Czech-language group on Thursdays seems to be a more working-class crowd, but then again, I really have no idea.
When I reached the top of the hill and the door, a new sensation hit – I was tired.  Setting down my equipment (the fiddle, the camera, jackets) at the table and greeting everyone, I found myself responding to Jirka, “Yeah, I’m still tired from our vacation” — the trip that ended several days ago.  I didn’t arrive with a bunch of energy to add to the group.
The whole scene seemed fairly low-key.  lots of absences (no banjo players, or bassists) and a mellow mood.  Jirka and Slavka and I did make a strong fiddle section, though, and we tore through some “fidlovky” that got my blood moving and fingers warmed up – I hadn’t really played for two weeks.  Petr’s songbook yielded some songs that flew “without banjo”  -some brother-duet-type material and ballads.  Jirka and I pulled off a credible improvised double fiddle break for “Danny Boy,” and traded off some fun jazzy licks on some of the other slower songs.
Just as things were picking up, I felt the tug of home, of Emily waiting.  It was time to go.  I made some farewells, but then reinforcements arrived.  Tomas’ flashy banjo-playing got us going, and then he requested Whiskey before Breakfast, and showed that he’d pretty much got the tune down since hearing/learning it at a jam a while back.  I allowed myself to be tugged back into the circle for a few more tunes, then packed up for good.
On my way towards the door, a gentleman tugged mea side – the guitarist from the other end of the table, Petr.  He’d bleted out some interesting songs tonight, and I was impressed and surprised – the quiet night had allowed him some space, and I was glad to hear a new side to that side of the room.  He was acting a bit shifty and I wasn’t sure what he was taking me aside to do – at first I was worried that he was inviting me for a shot or something…  But it turned out he just wanted some help decoding english lyrics from a song he and his band were trying to learn.  Sure!  As I told him “I have a chance to use this language I’ve been learning for so long.”
Equipped with partial lyrics sheet and a CD of the track in question (Red Bird, by the group Cadillac Sky) I made for the door again, and finally made it out, after a short talk with Petr about the current Bells and Whistles situation (there’s a new bassist who seems to be working out well, and the CD is an ongoing project that still needs a lot of work, on the whole things seem ok) I was able to pay my ticket  (i went easy tonight, just one Mattonku) and push through the swinging saloon door into the street.  Trudging down the hill I realized that I hadn’t kept to my goal at all – what about “class?”
I suppose feeling included and a part of the group is a bit of data on that front.  I don’t feel the divide in the moment of playing, in the circle of the jam.  For what that’s worth – which is a lot.
PS – This evening also saw another American at the table, a mandolinist name Josh, who let me sample his sweet Vana (Miroslav Vana, maker from Jirkov, CR) mandolin.  He also endeared himself to me by saying that he reads (and what’s more enjoys) this blog!  I’m flattered.  He also introduced me to Martin Krajíček, a mandolinistic artist I’ve not heard of yet.  This link leads to some sample tracks; cool sounds.  Thanks, Josh!

Back to the … real world

(Tuesday July 7 ) At U Supa – the cool-down, re-entry session for the returnees from the EWOB in La Roche – part of our adjustment to normal life, and part of our extension of the experience we had away from the everyday.

And for those who had money, a practical chance to repay Petr Hruby for the cost of the trip – the remainder that wasn’t covered by the reimbursement from the EWOB organization…it worked out to be about 950 crowns a person for the gas costs. (it appears .10 eurocents a kilometer is not enough for a minivan traveling over mountains, etc.) I wasn’t all that helpful, having emptied my wallet of cards and big bills before journeying into the heart of darkest Smichov–an unnecessary move that I still haven’t really explained to myself. Sam said I was good for the 2500 total I owe for Emily and myself–Martin had just made good on what he owed for this past spring’s Voorthuizen EWOB festival…

I was bummed that we ended up having to pay extra. This is another reminder that bluegrass is not a for – profit venture. These folks are paying to go to these events, to perform. Even for Jirka Kralik, whose group won the contest, this event must have been costly – Perhaps it worked out better since he was performing with two groups, but the cost of their two vehicles (including Kralik Sr.’s big volvo sedan–yeah, that one that wouldn’t take us to Ml. Boleslav for the Sunny Side concert in 2003, that one) must have been considerable.

Lukáš Mayer, banjo player from Nova Sekce was there at the jam, calling and leading some non-Monroe pieces that disrupted Sam’s seeming directing of the group. Sam was there in his center-back position at the tables, notebook out, and laminated repertory card ready, all fired up to play BG classics from the 1950s. Lukas led a lot more standard jam-session fiddle tunes (salt creek, groundspeed) and sang lead on “Hold what you got,” which is a Tony Rice-sounding song. I suggested a reprise of “Southern Flavor” as a nod to Zuzka–she added that I could try again to work out a harmony part. And I also called Rebecca, which we started and then disentegrated; I walked Sam through the B part, and then we were able to play it coherently…

One of the big border-crossings I noticed was when Lukas called the Czech-lyric version of “Blue Ridge Cabin Home” – Sam said that he doesn’t sing in Czech – maybe assuming that he would sing lead? But he doesn’t know the words to the chorus even, he protests. But then gets going once the refrain rolls around, launching a credible tenor over Lukas and his growly lead.

I left a while later, tired and ready for bed. They were still going strong.

Contest = Soutěž

(8-6-07) As we pass a bunch of cliffs and merge onto the Swiss highway, discussion about playing versus “competing” – (“soutezit”) – breaks out. Petr ponders trying to play with an eye towards the judging criteria – “maybe if we wore costumes?” Martin protests – why play to the judges? I can’t help but like his response – costumes are hot, and for me, awkward, and I guess the rush of applause that erupted after the double-fiddle number I did with Jirka Kralik felt great even without knowing that it was part of their first-prize performance.

*retrospective note: I found out later that B and W placed 18th in the contest, which is apparently a worse showing than last year. Here’s the score sheet for the entire festival. Petr sent it out to the band with some highlighted emphases. What a fascinating quantization of the weekend’s performances:

EWOB 2007 Results

I’m curious what aspects of “professionalism” can map onto the categories in this evaluation; stage dress, demeanor, interactivity, vocal and instrumental sckill are all aspects of performance that may or may not develop as a group becomes “more professional.”   Bluegras, and especially the Czech kind, is slippery, mixing “amateur” and “professional” together – just as I know people mix together home and work, as “firms” sometimes need to be bound to physical real estate…complicated bits of Czech law that I get hints of here and there…ways that personal and public/business intertwine differently here.

Back to the drowsy ethnographic present of the car ride home: As rosy-fingered dawn slips up over the Bohemian fields rushing by, Peter accidentally slips into Czech in a mock reprimand to Emily, saying she slept through the two castles we passed on the highway – “What are you going to get out of your trip to Europe, anyway?” And I felt bad that we dozed off while the the two non-driving Czechs stayed up and kept Martin company through the night as he drove the whole way home.