Roosevelt Arts Project Review:
"Open Mic" Night at Borough Hall
January 21, 2006
published in the Roosevelt Borough Bulletin, February 2006

Brad Garton

I approached the first (annual!?) Roosevelt Arts Project "open mic" event
held at Borough Hall on January 21 with some degree of apprehension.
Who would appear?  What would we experience?  Just how bad could it get?
I was totally unprepared for the wonderful, magical evening that
unfolded.  I guess I should have been -- this is Roosevelt, after all --
and the crisp January walk down to Borough Hall, Orion and the Pleiades
beaming overhead, certainly established a context of pleasant anticipation.

Now I am approaching the writing of this review with some degree
of apprehension.  How can I communicate the impressive array of
performances?  What can I say about the terrific feeling of community
that infused the hall?  What I have is a set of semi-legible notes I
scribbled in the candlelight darkness of the 'Borough Hall Open Mic
Cafe', and maybe the best I can do is simply to transcribe my handwritten
impressions.  So, here is my filtered/text version of that
amazing night:


Tables.  Fairy lights.  A cafe!  Gladys Nadler, Bess Tremper, kids running
around...  I have to move, very crowded.  I can't see as well, but it
won't matter.  Not what I expected.  People still coming; standing room
only.  Overheard:  "The last time I played in front of a Roosevelt
crowd was at my 8th grade graduation."

Jim Hayden announces the welcome.  The first "annual" [note: most
definitely after this success!] RAP Open Mic evening.  Aliyah Goldman
starts.  Such confidence!  Again, the weird disconnect between the
words she sings and the person she is.  I hope she knows she can have life
on her own terms.  What a talent.

Lenny Sacharoff!  Mo mic, a heartfelt delivery of music.  The crowd sings
along to Gilbert and Sullivan. "Don't Steal Daddy's Medal" -- really moving.
And then Tom Powers (Puck from Midsummer Night's Dream).  Poetry written
in Iraq, what a follow-up for Lenny.  Good lord, this is powerful
stuff.  The title of one poem: "Threadbare Soldier".  Strange applause for
a shattered life.

Next singer Jennifer Sherry, David Brahinksy on guitar.  Very 'present'.
Upfront.  Juxtaposition of Baez and our present world.  David sings
along during Bette Midler's (actually a medieval piece) "The Rose".

Piano ragtime music from Alan Mallach.  I keep trying to draw tragic
connections (ragtime music does that to me) in the playing, but Alan's
such a happy guy.  His last rag is an original Mallach:  "Roosevelt
Rag".  Those slipping chromaticisms, go Alan!

INTERMISSION.  I actually hear this quote:  "This is better than
on TV!"

A band after intermission, 'Biscuits for Breakfast'.  Oh they are so
young.  I am so old.  They claim inspiration from the same bands I
did way back when.  Melding acoustic and electric, multi-talented
kids.  Can I divine their future?

Carol Watchler announces a minor parking problem.  A stunning performance!
I laughed!  I cried!  Much applause from the audience.

Nate Kostar.  A real performer, seriously.  Slamming, powerful poetry.
Who knew?  I'm sitting next to Ron (Nate's dad).  What a feeling, life.
Followed by Ron Kostar playing drums with Amir Wittagher, a very
talented guitarist playing with backing tracks from a laptop.  Ron's
drums -- I work hard to parse the playing, makes it really interesting.
It seems at the edge of something, some controlled chaos.

Now Judith McNally, with Ron Kostar reading the second part of several
of Judith's "Micrologues".  I love these.  Boy her stuff is amazing.  Usually
the last line really kicks... yeah, it did.  "There was a barricade."

Michael Brett, acoustic guitar + voice (with Shelley Arden, percussion).
A tangled guitar cord; he untangled it.  A real singer/songwriter,
very polished and passionate performance.  There was a strange thing
on a chair [why did I write that?].  Claudia Longo follows with a
dramatic reading.  A disturbing reading.  Almost excruciatingly
human (I also get this from the nearby audience reaction).  Poetry
and a-cappella singing.  What courage, what connection.  I'm too
much a reserved midwesterner, could never do this.

Ron Sachowitz, blues guitar and singing.  Old-time Rooseveltian,
just recently retired from teaching.  Old-time songs.  People singing
along, one big living room in old-time Roosevelt.  It's perfect.
Janelle Shimko finishes with a very nice voice (one no-show at the
very end).  [It was late in the evening, I wrote some notes about
Janelle, but all I can make out is:]  Among.  My culture, different.
Audience applause.  Cat street w/ Ron.[?]


Fragmented notes, then, from a fragmented evening.  But not fragmented
in a negative way, as each shard had an uncommon beauty that contributed
paradoxically to the communal unity we shared attending the remarkable
performances in Borough Hall.  I walked back from the concert, with
the streetlights along Pine Drive making my shadow fall behind me and
in front of me.  Deirdre Sheean, Jim Hayden and all of the participants
deserve much credit for putting together such a marvelous evening.