A musician-artist duo play Caffe Lena this weekend
By GREG HAYMES, Staff writer
In the 1950s, the guitar replaced the saxophone as the instrument of choice. In the '80s, the synthesizer replaced the guitar. Is the slide projector slated to take over in the, uh, '00s?
Probably not, but perhaps it could be, if this weekend is any indication.
When Andy Friedman and Paul Curreri bring their "Make a Living Tour" to Caffe Lena in Saratoga Springs on Friday evening, don't expect the usual kind of singer-songwriter night.
No, this is something completely different.
The two performers first met while students at the Rhode Island School of Design -- the same seat of higher education that spawned the Talking Heads -- but they're steeped in the country blues tradition.
Curreri takes a more traditional approach, and he'll be showcasing sparkling tunes from his upcoming sophomore CD, "Songs for Devon Sproule." Produced by bluesman Kelly Joe Phelps, the 13-song album is marvelous, full of nimble guitar picking and compositions of uncommon grace. "Songs" was recorded in just five hours, but the music is timeless.
A 28-year-old Brooklyn native, Friedman is the wild card on the bill. Despite his love for the blues, Friedman isn't a musician. He's a visual artist, but he refers to his work in musical terms. He calls his drawings "songs." Friedman wants to take art out of the galleries and put it back in the hands of the people.
His first book -- he calls it his "debut album" -- was "Drawings & Other Failures," published by his own City Salvage Records two years ago. The beautifully printed, CD-sized paperback book sells for $12 and is full of pencil drawings, Polaroid photographs and a lengthy poem titled "Drawings."
His second "album," a collection of Polaroid photographs titled "Future Blues," is slated for release later this month.
In performance, Friedman shows slides of his artwork and talks. Not specifically about the artwork, but about what it means to him. "Lenny Bruce really is the one who opened the door," Friedman explains. Instead, he tells honest, insightful stories.
"Nobody wants to hear
somebody get up and explain their artworks," he says. "To me, country
blues is not a musical thing. It's a language."