Probably foul

And yet, I'm strangely tempted to try it.

The kids' first show: Aretha Franklin at Wolf Trap, July 29, 2010

Last night we took the kids to their very first concert. And what a concert it was: Aretha Franklin, one of my all-time favorites. The kids love her, too, and can't resist dancing around to her when I put a CD on at dinner time. When we realized she would be playing nearby, we couldn't pass it up.

The show was at Wolf Trap, which, as I've said, I love. To make it on time, we had to drive in rush-hour traffic — and in a storm, no less — so it took forever to get there. But once we did, we unpacked a lovely picnic dinner and seated ourselves on the lawn with a great view of the stage.

When Aretha came on, both kids stood and cheered. Thea sang along to her favorite song, "Natural Woman," and Liam danced and clapped his hands. Aretha, by the way, wore a floor-length ballgown and jacket and a huge wig. The air was hot and humid, and I think it really brought out the diva in her. She seemed cranky, criticizing the sound (which I thought was great, though I'm certainly not the expert she is) and complaining about the heat. The kids were so tired by intermission that we had to leave, but it was still totally worth it.

The Black Keys at DAR Constitution Hall, July 26, 2010

Photo by Eric Uhlir from DCist.com

Mike and I went to see one of his favorite bands, Ohio natives the Black Keys, at DAR Constitution Hall. It was a lot of fun. The sold-out crowd was douche-y and irritating, but the Keys were amazing. Mike described the sound as "splashy"; I'm not entirely sure what that means, but it fit perfectly.

Someone remind me the next time I go to DAR to bring my own cup. From the experience E and I had when we went to the Pixies in December, I did remember to bring a flask, but drinking out of a cup would have been much classier.

Liam says the restaurant is blurby

A little dessert after dim sum

Levon Helm and John Hiatt at Wolftrap, July 21, 2010

I love Wolf Trap. Absolutely love seeing shows there. Parking is easy and not too far away, kids are welcome (though they do have to pay full price; ouch!), you can bring your own picnic dinner and wine to have on the nicely manicured lawn under the stars while great bands play, and the crowd is generally well-mannered. Best place to see a show during warm months.

Last night we went to see John Hiatt and Levon Helm, two country-western-ish people I don't know all that much about. John Hiatt's set was charming, though I didn't recognize any songs. Levon Helm, who used to be a member of the Band, played drums and had a rather large group of musicians and singers accompanying him. Apparently he had throat cancer a few years ago but is recovering, at least enough to go back on tour and even sing a little. His voice was shaky but emotive, and the crowd didn't seem to mind.

Unfortunately, I fell asleep for part of Helm's set, so I missed the horn section stepping out in front and playing un-amped with only the pavilion's acoustics to carry the music to the lawn. It was apparently very cool. But something about the warm air and mellow vibe was so soothing I couldn't stay awake. That's not an entirely bad thing, coming from a chronic insomniac.

Thea made a happy face with dessert

Thea and Liam get their faces painted

Mike is the web, video, multimedia person for the National Museum of African Art. He worked at a World Cup event last weekend, and shot video of the crowd. Here are the kids getting their faces painted (and me, briefly, cajoling an intern into painting Thea's tiger face).


Thea and Liam get their faces painted from Michael Briggs on Vimeo.

Heartless Bastards, Ottobar, July 13, 2010

I LOVE the Heartless Bastards. They're one of my favorite bands, one that totally spoke to my 2009. When they played "Hold Your Head High," I found myself weeping just a tiny bit:



One of the bands that opened for them, The Builders and the Butchers, was also great. They had an unusual, jangly, mountain-y, folky sound, and a diverse group of instruments. Their violinist came on stage with the Heartless B's (as we call them around the kids) for a few songs, and it was the highlight of the night.

That said, I'm not crazy about the Ottobar. I don't know if it was an off night or just my mood, or my cantankerous nature, but here are my tweets from last night, which pretty much sum up my feelings:

At the Ottobar to see Heartless Bastards. Jesus, what a dive.
11:36 PM Jul 13th via txt

I mean "dive" pejoratively, not affectionately. Ottobar sucks. There, I said it, and I'm not taking it back.
11:49 PM Jul 13th via txt

Gah, can you get bedbugs from a bar?
12:30 AM Jul 14th via txt

Tiger Liam

At the Smithsonian African Art Museum's World Cup event.

Tiger Thea

Different ice-cream-eating styles

"Tell me! Where is the dragon path?!"

"You are hypmotized and must tell the troof!!"

What decade is this?

I love my friends' kid parties

Puppy love

Van Damme beer at Franklin's

Yum.

Chuck Close at the Corcoran Gallery of Art

Mike and I went to see artist Chuck Close speak at the Corcoran Gallery of Art. It was a fantastic experience. Though I'm not generally a fan of photorealist art (I admire it, of course, but it seems a bit soulless to me), Chuck Close's work is truly amazing. For one thing, it's photorealistic from a distance, but up close you can see that he constructs a lot of his paintings with dots or finger prints. Additionally, the canvases are huge, sometimes taking up entire walls in galleries, so the scale alone is impressive. They're really stunning.

Another amazing thing about him that I didn't know until I saw him speak: he has face blindness, which means he's unable to recognize faces. This is especially mind-blowing when you think about how all of his paintings are of faces. He's also dyslexic, and talked about how important arts education was to him in his early years. He credits art with enabling him to get through middle school and eventually graduate with an MFA from Yale, because he was sometimes able to construct intricate dioramas instead of having to turn in a paper. If not for art classes, he believes he would have been labeled "retarded" and his life would have taken a much different trajectory.

After the talk, Chuck Close and his biographer signed copies of their book. Here the biographer talks with Mike about how he came to be known as Floogee. (Sorry for the quality and orientation. I thought it was still charming enough to post.)