Regretfully, I couldn’t make this event on March 27. But, I followed up with the publicity coordinator at the GRAMMY Museum and she was kind enough to send along these stills from the event. Surprisingly, I have not seen any reviews of this show. Outside of the homie Jeff Weiss’ preview at the Times and a few rewritten press releases, there has been no coverage.
All photos by Mark Sullivan/Wire Image
No more.
Your truly will be at the L.A. premiere of this film this Friday.
Here’s the synopsis, jacked from YouTube:
The directorial debut of actor Mark Webber (Broken Flowers), Explicit Ills follows four inter-connecting stories revolving around love, drugs and poverty in Philadelphia. Babo, an asthma ridden seven-year-old lives with his mother in the badlands of North Philly. His neighbor Demetri transforms himself into a well-read “smart” boy in order to get the girl. Michelle, a well-off art student is quick to fall into a drug induced love-affair with her dealer Jacob. Kaleef and Jill’s marriage is strained as they pursue their dreams of bringing “produce to the people” as their teenage son Heslin focuses on competing in the World’s Strongest Man competition.
Classical music was never my thing but I probably wasn’t the only one that noticed the cello propped against empty chair in the orchestra. It was a detail that I couldn’t miss, like a best friend’s birthday, for example. For someone who never listens to classical music, I still paid attention – and there was good reason.
The symbolic instrument-on-empty chair was part of an elaborate tribute to one of hip-hop greats, Jay Dee aka J Dilla aka Dilla, who played cello growing up in his tough as mechanic’s nails Detroit ‘hood. As plugged in as I am to L.A.’s bubbling hip-hop community, it was an underground rapper that reconnected with me recently who texted me about the event. I reached out to him to see what was going on that day and his reply was a short and sweet: “a suite for Ma Dukes at cal state LA.”
I was almost going to pass. I respected Dilla’s music but wasn’t a fanatic – and there are plenty of those out there. I am glad I decided to go, because I saw history being made in front of my eyes. A 40-piece orchestra took Dilla’s compositions and interpreted them through classical music.
Dilla’s soul was present, although the body wasn’t. The man born James Yancey succumbed of lupus at the age of 32, leaving behind young children, a bitterly fought-over estate and of course, “Ma Dukes,” his beloved mother Maureen Yancey. The sold out event, tickets to which went for $32.50, was put on as part of the ‘Timeless’ series of concerts at the Cal State campus an earshot from downtown Los Angeles.
I doubt even the top brass at telephone handset manufacturer Vtech, which sponsored the event, knew what they had done was above and beyond special. For us in the close knit L.A. hip-hop circuit, amidst which Dilla lost his battle with lupus in 2006, it wasn’t just another event. It was an experience, the orchestra’s performance throughout the night simply being that euphoric, soul-raising event the likes of which makes time stand still. It had the makings of such the minute that conductor Miguel – wearing cargo pants and a loose-fitting white button-up – raised his hands to conduct the orchestra.
Grasping the moment the best I could, my hip-hop, jazz and R&B-attuned ear couldn’t right away appreciate the classical music being played. That changed at the precise moment the orchestra got into the melody from A Tribe Called Quest’s “Find a Way,” one of Dilla’s earliest productions and one that became the sound bed for a whole generation of hip-hoppers the globe over. Between the light drums and the whirly sounds, the audience was hearing the work of Detroit hip-hop’s answer to Mozart – and it was simply gracefully powerful.
I’m convinced of nothing if not this: If Dilla’s soul was in the building, it was definitely in the music and it was being transmitted to every single member of the audience. A woman sitting next to me exhaled loudly when the melody from another familiar Dilla composition was played. Since the event was all ages, somewhere closer to the stage a toddler squeezed out a “daddy” couple of times. It was definitely a night when strange was the norm, when ghosts were raised, when death was simply … life.
Before the show got under way, a writer friend of mine mentioned a who’s who of hip-hop and R&B genres were to make an appearance. He even suggested Erykah Badu, who recently gave birth to a child, would be there (she wasn’t). Instead it was the dapper Lonnie Rashid Lynn, better known in Hollywood and hip-hop as Common, that walked to the center of the stage and introduced Ma Dukes. He was followed by Dwele, a respected if not commercially successful R&B artist, who walked out in bright white sneakers and a shiny chain. Dwele said he was so fond of the event upon first learning about it via an email from a friend in Amsterdam, he booked a hotel and a flight – all before being asked to have his trip paid for.
Following suit, Dwele and the orchestra’s rendition of Dilla’s “Angel” was heavenly, but it wasn’t until Posdnuos from the seminal early 90s hip-hop group De La Soul and Talib Kweli walked out to the sounds of “Stakes Is High,” a Jay Dee production on De La’s album of the same name that cemented their place in hip-hop history (Yohance was wearing a “Stakes is High” shirt and told me later that song got him through high school).
As the night wrapped up and Yohance and I hopped into an acquaintance’s car and whisked away to an after-party a few blocks from downtown L.A.’s Skid Row, we all felt our souls rise. And it was all for Ma Dukes, who we saw moments later, sitting on the corner of the dance floor in the warehouse where the after party was held, bobbing her head to hip-hop music. Some of it was her son’s and some it wasn’t.
Regardless, the night demonstrated that hip-hop and classical may both be good for the soul.
I took very careful notes on this event yesterday but you won’t be reading about here. The manuscript will be submitted as a writing sample to a New York-based publication that I told Nas’ manager I want to write for about Mr. Jones.
Stay tuned. (See you at the top, Kristin)
I don’t feel like writing a thesis on my trip from L.A. to Detroit to Tampa to Atlanta … to Las Vegas. Just take a look at the photos below. They’ll tell … half a story.
And in case one wants to know, I’m listening to G-Unit’s “Beg For Mercy” right now and next week I’ll be in a studio.
Before I go Jamaican on a dude David in Redlands, Calif., whose sister shall perish if she ever says my name in vain again.
A page out of Creative Loafing, a very good resource for alternative news
Just a sign, that’s all
Publicist-A&R-music machine-in-one-man Carl Gillispie of FreshMLK is hiding behind his aunt’s dog. He’s one of the best friends any rapper can have.
Their motto is “dinner served with murder” or some ‘ish like that. Doesn’t sound like a pleasant dining experience. I’d rather eat at Soprano’s.
Parking level P1 at Montage Hotel in Beverly Hills is where my Saturday night was spent. If that doesn’t sound fun, take in consideration the fact that standing around with me were Sway and Shaheem Reid from MTV, Toronto rapper Drake, producer Alchemist and even the daughter of the most powerful woman in the music industry (any guesses as to who she is? Here’s a hint: Nas drops her first name in a verse on “Carry On Tradition” and she signed the homies PacDiv last year).
Anywho, the occasion was the official pre-Grammy Awards party in honor of Cash Money Millionaires and Universal Records’ Lil Wayne, the triple-platinum beacon of light in an otherwise dark age for the music industry.
Truth be told: I had no official business at this party. So, naturally, my boy DeJuan and I found ourselves outside like a pair of eager fans, gawking at the miniskirts and at the cars that pulled up, some of them carrying celebrity musicians, others carrying musicians – if that’s what they are – who think they are celebrities.
I had just finished talking with Alc about a solo album he was prepping for May and was exchanging texts with the homie Bob from Konvict when his boss, Akon, pulled up in a black Lambo. Dozens of men and women literally clung to Kon as he made his way in, security clearing the way. Dude’s face couldn’t be more still – he seemed completely oblivious to the madness going on around him.
Kon was just another artist at this party. Not long after he came, Lil’ Wayne and Baby arrived – without a single bodyguard – and made their way down the purple carpet (the party was Bourbon Street-themed, my friend Jen, who made it inside around 8:30 told me later).
I was still outside at this point and was ready to shake, having had enough of the “scene,” when I decided to say hi to a familiar face: a porn star whose name slipped me at the moment. As soon as I started talking to her and mentioned I use to work at XBIZ, she mentioned how she was looking to get out of the adult biz because it wasn’t gonna work with raising a family. She asked my boy to take a pic of us – apparently for her MySpace page – and she and her friend bounced (but not before her friend, who was rollin a blunt, gave me a business card that said “Osa Lovely. Adult actress. Model. Wrestler.”
So there it is. I didn’t make it inside Lil Wayne’s party and instead met a porn star who wrestles. I think I’ll call her now and find out just exactly what that means.
Or maybe not. I have a Tavis Smiley interview to do Wednesday.
I’m blogging more extensively nowadays over at MyCypher.com, which will be launching soon officially, so get it bookmarked now, suckas. I recommend checking out the post on Young De – B-Real’s collabro who’s got a bright future in this here rapping industry – and the one about Somali-Canadian singer-rapper K’Naan, who has an album droppin the same day. Find it all at MyCypher.com. Peace.
Over the next couple of days I won’t be posting unless it’s something breaking. Got some deadlines to meet for actual paying work.
peace
Standing here on Beachwood Dr off Santa Monica … B-Real is shooting a video for the follow-up single to “Don’t Ya Dare Laugh” off “Smoke N Mirrors.”
This song is called “Fire” and ur features Damian Marley.
On the set we got Terry Smith from the Brolly Group, who’s doing consulting for Diz Gibran and once managed PacDiv. We’ve also got the homie Jay Casterl from BallerStatus.com, Jeff Weiss from LA Times/LA Weekly.
Dang, just lost my train of blog … When this thick-legged chocolate video model strutted by … Her three friends are by the taco truck parked in the lot .. Practicing their routine …
just chopped it up with Jelly Roll, a producer who’s been working with Xzibit … Who’s standing a few feet away givin an interview to MySpace … Jelly Roll produces on upcoming Busta Rhymes, on what maybe the first single, featuring Estelle … dude is very underrated … He is a musician … Anyone named after Jelly Roll Morton is cool with me …
There are now 11 models on the set now and they’re a nice cross section of races, skin tones, height
Damian Marley isn’t here … B-Real is here but I haven’t seen on the set, he’s doing interviews though …
Always good to run into B’s homie Ennis too
This is one of my more poignant op/ed columns in a long time, never mind that my last name is spelled wrong (it’s Kandyba, for the record). I just hope that I spelled Jeremy’s last name right.
