Uncategorized – Couch Art Connoisseur

A Friday 12-Pack

Posted on September 20, 2024March 28, 2025 by Meleah Treece

When you have a job as coma inducing as mine is, finding ways to distract yourself from how bored you are while doing it becomes very important. Podcasts, audiobooks, and music are the essential axle grease that keep the reluctant wheels of my productivity engine functioning.

Music in particular has always been a part of my workday, although, and some of you may recognize this phenomenon, it can’t just be any old thing. Too loud, frantic and scream-y is out of the question. On the other hand, too slow, low, or nebulous is just as unacceptable for the opposite reason. I also find that I prefer to listen to instrumental music over music with words because, being a word person, I have a very hard time concentrating around sublime lyrics.

All of this is to say I end up spending way too much time on Spotify, curating a music collection that is rapidly getting so large and out of control it might take a year and half to organize – when I finally get around to it. The flip side is that, quite often, I randomly stumble upon some really good stuff and I thought I’d start sharing some of it.

Like most people who are aware of the vast talents of Billy Strings, it is not hard to be impressed by almost anything that he does. However, I think this 2 minute, 2 second live acappella performance tops my list.

Just because it’s Friday and this is so much fun.

Rachel Portman is the composer behind some of my favorite movie scores – Cider House Rules, Chocolate, Emma, etc. This is from her 2020 album Ask the River.

When I was about 11 or 12, my dad came home one day with a cassette tape called “Hooked on Classics”. It was an album full of slightly jazzy renditions of Handel’s Messiah, Beethoven’s Ode to Joy, Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, and – you get the idea. I loved it, passionately. I’m sure that little white plastic cassette birthed my savage devotion to instrumental music. Unfortunately, I think it also ruined me for life. I’m quite certain from that point on, my brain expected every piece of music it heard to be – EPIC – and it’s been chasing that high ever since. So, you can imagine my delight when I came across these next pieces. I’ve listened to them approximately 700 times in the last 4 days.

I recently discovered Sam Lewis and this is from his self titled 2012 album which is just great.

Um…if you have not heard anything by the Teskey Brothers, you are missing out. Just saying…

My maternal grandfather came from coal mining people in West Virginia and Pennsylvania and sometimes when I hear a voice like this, it feels like it’s specifically tuned to those dormant strands of my DNA. I can’t even begin to describe what it does to me.

And just in case you got the impression I only like male singers; I give you Michelle Moonshine. You may or may not know this about me – beautiful, sad songs sung by a gorgeous voice are my bread and butter, musically speaking. This entire album, Sad Spaghetti Westerns, checks all the boxes – emphatically.

These girls are so good it’s obscene. Seriously…

When I was growing up, Hooked on Classics aside, there was not a huge variety of music in our house. My dad mostly listened to Jazz (death by auditory torture) and my mother liked Mariachi music (not much better). This is why, as I get older, it’s amusing to me that I am starting to dip a toe into both genres. For instance, I’ve come to love and appreciate Herb Alpert, and Ella Fitzgerald, and the amount of Latin music in my playlists would shock and appall my 12-year-old self. This band, LaLom (The Los Angeles League of Musicians) is a fun mix of Cumbia and 60’s surfer instrumentals.

And last but not least…this. It makes me feel homesick…in the best possible way.

BONUS BOOK REVIEW

If anyone is a Loretta Lynn fan, or a Patsy Cline fan, or a Country Music fan, or has been fortunate enough to experience a true and deep friendship, or fought and pushed through to the better side of a difficult marriage, or suffered a sudden and tragic loss that upended your entire life, or even if you’re just a human trying to do the best you can in a hard world…this is a book for you.

You can thank me later.

Best Reads of the Summer (so far)

Posted on August 6, 2024March 28, 2025 by Meleah Treece

One of the funniest (if not THE funniest) movies I have ever seen was released in 1971 and is called “A New Leaf”. Elaine May wrote the screenplay, directed, and starred opposite Walter Matthau. It’s about a vain, aging, trust fund bachelor, who runs out of money, and the plan he devises to avoid destitution is to marry a rich woman and murder her to acquire her wealth.

I know. It sounds awful. And if the character of Henry Graham (played to absolute perfection by Matthau) had been written by anyone other than Elaine May, the audience would most likely have only seen a terrible human being plotting horrific things. However, in May’s masterful hands, the audience gets to watch a terrible human being plot horrific things- who is also, very, very funny.

Other than writing and starring in one of my favorite movies of all time, I knew virtually nothing else about Elaine May. I did not know that she and Mike Nichols practically invented what we now know as “Improv”. I did not know that Second City and Saturday Night Live were incubated in that early work that she and Nichols created. And even though the writing is by far the most brilliant thing about “A New Leaf” – a film full of brilliant things – May’s most enduring reputation is as a “script doctor”. Having trouble with your multi-million-dollar screenplay? Call Elaine May. If she likes you, if she agrees to help you, she’ll fix your story and make it 1,000 times better than you could have hoped for.

I won’t go into the complicated backstory of May’s personal life, but Courogen mines all available sources to paint as complete a picture as she can of someone who is famously, pathologically elusive. What we’re left with to admire is a woman who knows her worth and stands her ground even when it costs her. A loyal friend, a generous and supportive mentor of other artists, and someone who only gets labeled “difficult” when she challenges the men who are in charge.

She is the GOAT in a category that most people aren’t even aware exists, and that’s probably just how she likes it.

It’s been a while since I’ve read a book straight through. I started this on a Wednesday afternoon and finished around 2am the next day because I just could not put it down.

What I appreciated the most, the thing I found most compelling, is that Cook, in her careful and thorough reporting, treats her subjects with a compassion and dignity that some people might not think they deserve. Often, our first reaction to people who find themselves caught up in these types of “fringe” movements, is to call them crazy and congratulate ourselves for being smart enough to know better.

Cook never refers to anyone as crazy. In fact, she does an excellent job of showing us how an otherwise smart, rational, “normal” person can get swept up in this type of thinking. She explains how it isn’t so much the things they believe as much as how being a part of these things makes them feel that can be as addicting as drugs or alcohol. How loneliness, wanting to feel important and part of something bigger than yourself also plays a role.

On the other hand, there is the damage. Cook does not sugar coat the pain and despair experienced by the people who can only stand by helplessly as they watch the people they love become complete strangers, consumed by the conspiracy theories and misinformation.

It is not a light read, but in my opinion, it is worth your time, especially if you’ve ever had to navigate any kind of profound change or shift in a primary relationship. If nothing else, it does what all important books do – it helps you know you’re not alone.

Occasionally, I attempt to read books that claim to offer inspiration and practical advice for writers. With the exception of Stephen King’s “On Writing” (“The road to Hell is paved with adverbs” just might be the greatest quote in the history of literature) I usually find them hard to swallow.

There are a couple of reasons for this.

I tend to get a bit queasy whenever I try to even sneak up on the presumption that I might be a “writer”. I am not a writer. I am a person without a formal education of any kind, who has no experience whatsoever due to a total lack of effort and complete ignorance of the profession. I have always felt that I don’t have permission to call myself, or even think of myself as a writer. I mean, the nerve…

And so, for the reasons stated above, whenever I do read all of those helpful tips – “creating an outline for your novel”, “how to flesh out a backstory for your main characters”, the benefits of sticking to a “schedule” and “committing” to a pre-determined word count every day, “how to write blog posts that will attract the maximum number of Google-searching eyeballs”- none of it ever feels like anything that I can realistically relate to. It just adds up to more reasons to not bother.

I did not have high hopes for “1000 Words”. The title alone seemed like too much pressure. But I kept running into rave reviews that were so consistently effusive I ignored my usual resistance and gave it a shot. To say I’m happy I did is like saying it’s nice to have indoor plumbing.

For one thing, it isn’t really an advice book. In fact, the point is made more than once that most advice doled out about writing, while well meaning, is usually terrible. What works for you, may not necessarily work for me. Human beings and their highly complex brains are so unique that no one can tell you what your best method for harnessing and taming your special brand of creativity is going to be. You’re going to have to figure that out for yourself.

However, Jami Attenberg has done a beautiful job of curating a wide variety of complex and creative brains, including her own, to share some of their personal methods. Not as a “How-To”, but more as a “Me-Too”, which I found to be far more helpful. The book features many writers, some that I recognized, many I did not, telling the truth about how hard it is (even for the professionals) to sit down and force themselves to write. The procrastination, the lack of self-discipline, the crippling and terrifying writers block, the desire to do – anything – other than what they are supposed to do, what they are sometimes contracted to do, because writing is often no different than torture, and besides, what makes them think they are even qualified to do this in the first place?

And then there is the great revelation. If you write – whether or not you do it for a living, whether or not you have an MFA, whether or not you have a degree at all, whether or not you’ve ever been published, whether or not you’re trying to get published, whether or not you just do it for yourself, whether or not you’re even any good – you are a writer. And you don’t need anyone’s permission to own that.

Writing can be exceptionally hard. But after reading “1000 Words”, I’ve crawled out on the other side feeling, maybe for the first time, like I might actually be able to do it. As long as I avoid those adverbs.

Girls and Guitars

Posted on July 28, 2024July 25, 2025 by Meleah Treece

Just for fun, if you’d like, Google “Top 50 Guitarists of All Time”. Or, just to make it more sporting, “Top 100”.

Go ahead. I’ll wait.

Notice anything? Anything missing? Or to be more precise, anyone missing?

On the four or five “Top 50” lists that I sampled, there was not one woman to be found. On the more expansive, “Top 100” selections, Joni Mitchell and Bonnie Raitt made appearances in the #75 and #89 spots, respectively, on one list only.

Um…rude.

I am in no way suggesting that those male artists do not deserve to be recognized for their immense talent. They should be on all sorts of “Top” lists. Many of them have a signature “sound” that is so intrinsically fused with my own personal “musical DNA” that I can’t imagine my life without it. However, is there a particular reason these lists are almost entirely ignoring the ladies? And just in case someone is considering dusting off the tired old, “women are underrepresented in rock music”, rationale as an explanation, is that really a valid excuse?

To be fair, if you want a “Top 50” or “Top 100” list that includes a Lita Ford or a Jennifer Batten, you can find them. You will just need to add the qualifier “Female” to your search, and it’s up to you to overlook the “Yes, they’re ok…for a girl” implication.

Here’s the other thing. By focusing on “Rock” as the primary genre through which to filter our comparisons and adorations, some truly extraordinary people tend to get overlooked.

Take Elizabeth Cotten. Born in 1893 near Chapel Hill, North Carolina, only one generation removed from slavery on her father’s side, she was the youngest of five children. When she was around eight years old, she would slip into her older brother’s room when he was at work, and experiment with his banjo, not allowing the minor inconvenience of being left-handed to get in the way of teaching herself to play – upside down.

When she was nine, she was forced to quit school and become a domestic worker, and by the time she was twelve she had a live-in job, earning a dollar a month. She managed to save up enough to buy a Sears and Roebuck guitar for $3.75 (around $130 today) which she named Stella.

In the mid-1940’s after a divorce and re-location to Washington D.C., and in an almost providential coincidence, she started working as a housekeeper for the Seegers. Yes, THE Seegers. One day, Elizabeth picked up one of the family guitars and started playing – and they were stunned. From that point on, largely due to their encouragement and support, Elizabeth pursued a career as a musician. Her “Cotten Picking” style would eventually influence artists as varied as Joan Baez and Jerry Garcia to Townes Van Zandt and Rhiannon Giddens.

Elizabeth Cotten wrote her most well known (and most often covered) song, “Freight Train”, when she was only 11 or 12, won a Grammy when she was 92, and died only two years later, leaving a musical legacy that deserves to be honored and remembered.

Someone else that deserves to be honored, remembered, and placed on every single “Top” list under the sun, is Maybelle Carter.

Just like Elizabeth Cotten, Maybelle Carter created her own unique sound, the “Carter Scratch”. I don’t know enough about music to explain this in technical terms, but essentially, she could play both the rhythm and melody simultaneously on the guitar, a feat that baffled many a highly skilled musician.

Ken Burns did a wonderful job of telling “Mother” Maybelle’s story in his 2019 “Country Music” documentary. In it you get a true sense of not only the scope of her talent, but the kindness, generosity, and graciousness that endeared her to everyone who knew her. My favorite story is the one about the Grand Ole Opry’s initial attempts to lure ‘Maybelle and the Carter Sisters’ (Maybelle’s three daughter’s Helen, Anita, and June) to Nashville.

By the late 1940’s Maybelle and the girls had found steady work at the KTWO radio station in Springfield, MO. In 1949, a young Chet Atkins joined the group and their popularity steadily rose until the Opry, the desperate dream, the Sweet Beulah Land of every Country music artist, came calling.

Except there was a catch. The invitation did not include Atkins, who was such an accomplished musician in his own right, that the Grand Ole Opry establishment worried if he were to bring his guitar to town, he would take work away from too many other people. They were afraid he would take over.

Maybelle flatly refused. If “they don’t want Chester, they can’t have the rest of us!” She held her ground even after attempts by the Opry to sweeten the deal, and when they realized she would not budge, they finally gave in.

When Maybell and the Carter Sisters and Chet made their Opry debut in September 1950, “The roof,” June recalled, “came off that building.”

So, the next time you’re enjoying a scorching, filling liquefying, brain melting performance from one of the many contemporary female guitarists who could overcrowd any number of “Top” lists, it’s worth taking a minute to consider the almost unearthly talent and humble dignity of their musical forebearers who quietly and persistently paved the way for them.