Shabaka on Elephant Hill

kind of like the moon cycle

As art lovers we have an urge to memorialize. Reminiscing, recreating, writing this five hundred word piece. Each act comes into being as a way to preserve what we cherish. Stepping deeper into this process, we build institutions and allot money to this same essential task of scaling something spontaneous, of museum-ifying something organic. Driving around LA Saturday March 15th, 2025 drove the phenomenon home.

We started downtown at a reception for the opening of Red Cat’s World of Echo exhibit showcasing the work and working relationship of Julius Eastman and Arthur Russell. Great artists, beautiful music, beautiful gowns, well-executed presentation of some special pieces of memorabilia and artistic responses to these two people and what they made. Picture a thoughtful arrangement of 10 speakers in a large circle in the middle of a room with framed manuscript paper, musings on Eastman and Russell from trendy musicians like Devendra Banhart and claire rousay, and other artifacts on the surrounding walls. Picture salaried curators, millionaire donors, music lovers, and some legendary old heads seated in lotus position, swirling their heads to the hi-fi sounds of Russell’s “The Holy Presence of Joan d’Arc” for 10 cellos, one cello per beautiful speaker.

From there we drove to El Sereno and traipsed, in a fight between dirt / gravel versus heels / dress shoes, up elephant hill. Elephant hill is a beloved, largely un-manicured outdoor space housing a handful of residents, including our friend who hosts concerts on site organized around the moon cycle. This publicly unannounced, full-moon-lit outdoor performance by Shabaka with Carlos Niño and Diego Gaeta was not to be missed. Living in the moment of spiritual jazz commodification and the varied corporate attempts to wash it up as effectively as possible, colors you skeptical walking into any space where you don’t know exactly who and what’s happening. Our jadedness subsided and the show earned the uphill battle. Shabaka has the once in a generation sound and musicality that jazz people organize their lives around, for good reason. Exploring the improvisational space comes so naturally to a player with his ear and skill, and with Carlos following the forging with grace, it was a real masterclass in organic music. Diego Gaeta's keyboard undercurrents were worked in about halfway through the set like delicate architecture. Beaming full moon and wandering wildlife, an added bonus.

Storied lifers and newly anointed hipster music who’s whos making sound with their chiseled voices, just for the sake of doing something beautiful and expanding the artistic vocabulary. A similar story to what brought Julius Eastman and Arthur Russell together, one of shared ethos and musical urgency. Chatting with Carlos Niño before his set, he said something simple, but provocative about the World of Echo exhibit along the lines of: “I want to know more about them partying together.” It gets at something significant about the misfires between art and the art of presenting it. The organic thing and the spontaneous moments in music history come largely from places and spaces ignored by the entities who will later come to mass produce representations of how and why the organic happenings were important. In the creative moment you have a $15 suggested Venmo donation. In the re-creation you have underwriting, institutions, and the barons that be, longing for the moment. We see, reconcile and organize around both, but also long to see one see more of the other.