Goatette (n):
a sometimes four-, sometimes five-piece indy jazz project frontlined by a goat.
MONA (n):
museum of 1) neo-folk, 2) Nubian, 3) necrophiliac, or 4) neon art, depending on the downtown LA block you happen to be on.
The following reviews the marriage of the most craft-while Goatette in recent history and 4th Street’s eclectic Neon Museum. I had the pleasure of experiencing this eye-ear orgasm firsthand last week for this month’s First Friday. Here’s the play-by-play:
Certain perks are afforded to me as an agent of the press and, while I gained admission to this fascinating event, I did not have the express pleasure of arriving via one of the Museum’s famous “Neon Cruises,” which (according to the buzz in the audience) takes its double-decker passengers on a tour of the best neon art signage that downtown Los Angeles has to offer—including pit stops with tea and crumpets! Again, I may be wrong about most or all of the details here, but I do know the specialty tours are received to rave reviews and, if nothing else, the museum itself will be enough to knock off the socks of anyone ignorant of the inner workings of this most delicious medium.
Neon/kinetic art is what results back home after Lewis Carroll types visit Vegas. It is all about social commentary and preserving history and those who call themselves “neon artists,” like several of the eccentric folks in the audience that night, manipulate glass tubing and gas it up to suit their imaginations. The exhibit goes into detail about how this technology was innovated (dating back to a pre-electric 17th century!), the place neon has carved out in history, and how it evolved from a science into an art form.
MONA was conceived out of darkness, which is a requirement to showing neon pieces—an amenity uncommonly found in mainstream galleries for obvious reasons. Entering this otherwise dimly-lit surreal paradise of flashing lights and massive messages was an experience I never knew I needed to have, and walking into a fully staged band arrangement amidst the glowing scraplings and machinery was… well, very vaudeville. The entire concert was conducted beneath a huge female diver in neon, beautifully restored from The Virginia Court Motel. And the music all went off over the electric buzz of the freaky art all around. Two mechanical pieces emotionally crafted by artist Jim Jenkins were thankfully stilled for the band’s performance.
Enter the Jeff Gauthier Goatette. The project’s namesake, Jeff Gauthier (pronounced go-tee-ay), a prolific and gifted violinist-composer, is the soft-spoken father faun type and could actually one day be cast as Mr. Tumnus if he ever chose to switch careers. And, remarkably, most of these guys have been playing music together since they started sprouting their first goatees a couple decades ago. Monster pianist David Witham (a hot musical property since the age of 7), master of the upright bass Joel Hamilton and impeccable drummer Alex Cline joined Gauthier to complete the set. Sometimes the quartet is actually a quint, adding Alex’s expert bro Nels on guitar (hence the creative moniker ‘Goatette’ to erase numerical confusion on any given day). All four musicians are independently very sharp and well-trained, but together, like the organic elements behind Captain Planet, they become infinitely more powerful. Let me tell you, these cats are tight. As an added bonus, with their twinkly Buddha eyes, soothing demeanors and wire-rimmed spectacles, they all bear an amusing resemblance to each other and could easily pass for more than just musical brothers.
Of the half-dozen pieces they played this night, it’s my estimation that the ratio of composed to improvised work was about 50/50. The group began recording together in the early nineties and even in their studio work they maintain an air of experimentalism. This is something they’ve truly earned; because they’ve breathed each other musically for so long, their most random improv rivals the most orchestrated acid jazz recordings I’ve heard. It’s simply exquisite
Their work has been called “sinuously pleasing,” and from the get-go, they did not disappoint. Their first piece was beautifully eerie and had me hallucinating about redheaded French women and pagodas. Their second, a dreamy improv inspired by crickets, had an ‘Alice through the Phillip Glass’ flavoring. Witham’s savory piano held the group together like the most versatile classical glue (the kind you get at Spencer’s that can bind or cross-breed anything). Then they graduated into the full-on cricket composition, a rigorous sometime-Cirque-du-Soliel experience that felt like riding in a car while the driver’s on E, obtuse like two herds of sheep waging war, building in the playful intensity of a leprotic butterfly and culminating in a Michael Flatley finish.
At this point it’s important to point out that there was no alcohol served at this event nor did I indulge in any other chemical preparations. If I could give The Jeff Gauthier Goatette one resounding nod it would be that their work is truly trance-inducing. They are enlightened world-class musical hypnotists—and what a treat to have my goat cherries popped in the midst of such acoustically-ideal neon spectacular. Don’t hesitate the next time you have the opportunity to see this exceptional group, particularly at the MONA venue. And check out the magic of neon you never before thought to ponder at: www.neonMONA.org
