# Review: Big Ears 2023 Jazz festival still feels like a secret, a hidden treasure nestled in The Marble City. Days 4: Video, Photos

- Link: https://jazzblues.eu/2023/04/17/review-big-ears-2023-jazz-festival-still-feels-like-a-secret-a-hidden-treasure-nestled-in-the-marble-city-days-4-video-photos/
- Published: 2023-04-17T00:02:13+01:00
- Author: https://JazzBlues.EU

**Big Ears still feels like a secret, a hidden treasure nestled in The Marble City.
Gathering together artists and musicians of all genres and aesthetics, the festival
allows them to explore their individual sounds in an atmosphere of relaxed experimentation.**

There’s no rush to the 4-day event, a mixture of divergent electronic detours, folk
authenticity…really, an acceptance of all music. Nothing is off limits, and everything
is welcome. And that’s what makes it such a remarkable gathering and an experience
unlike any other. At least, that’s how I felt as the days went on, as I took in 
the sights and sounds of my second visit.

After canceling the festival in 2021, Big Ears came roaring back last year with 
artists like Patti Smith, Sparks, Moses Sumney, Yves Tumor, Bill Callahan, and Low
finding themselves performing across a dozen different venues. The lineups have 
always been eclectic and no single genre takes the spotlight. This is a festival
that prizes  its uniqueness, its ability to assemble sounds of all affections into
a single city of a long weekend of joy and magic and other forms of emotional release.
As with any festival, however, there are some tears as well — specifically, this
comes when having to prioritize certain shows over others. It almost feels as though
you’re making presumptive judgments. Do I see The Mountain Goats or Liturgy? Do 
I hike down the road a bit to see Calexico or stay close and watch Arooj Aftab with
Vijay Iyer and Shahzad Ismaily (which also means I’ll miss Joe Rainey and Kali Malone)?
Thankfully, some musicians perform multiple sets which negates some of this internal
handwringing.

My experience this year at Big Ears likely mirrors mothers in attendance. But it
might not; that’s the beauty of this festival — everyone can have wildly different
experiences and come away changed for the better. I made my schedule in advance.
I knew who I was going to see. And then I got to Knoxville, and everything changed.
My schedule wasn’t completely disregarded, but sometimes you just have to feel your
way through something of this magnitude. Sometimes you make a last second choice
to see someone you’ve never heard of, or never seen live before, and it feels like
the only choice you could have made. That’s the beauty of Big Ears. That’s the uniqueness
inherent to this fest. And I hope that it never changes, that nothing is lost in
the coming years, and that this weird and wonderful collective of people, places,
and musicians continues to subvert expectations for decades to come.

**Day 1**

I had decided early on to start this year with Lonnie Holley, whose latest record
_Oh Me Oh My_ has been a balm in uncertain months. A musician and found materials
artist, he approached music like his art, building from existing elements, taking
folk, blues, rock tropes and bending them to create these indelible visions. It 
was a joyous affair, filed with hard-won wisdom and alternate perspectives on race,
social structures, and the odd bit of divinity. He was backed by genre-bending collective
Mourning [A] Blkstar. More shaman than frontman, although he’d likely prefer to 
be called a preacher, Holley ‘s performance was a treatise on enlightenment through
sound. He sang of hardship, revelation, and love — and he did so with a joy in his
heart. That was evident from the moment he took the stage. Moor Mother joined him
toward the end of his set, performing “I am a Part of the Wonder” and sticking around
to bask in that radiance, singing and offering spoken word tangents when appropriate.
What a lovely way to start Big Ears. And I’ve still got around 24 more shows to 
attend, but we’ll get to those in due time.

From the Mill & Mine, where I watched Holley perform, I began the march southwest
toward St. John’s Episcopal Cathedral, an ornate and gorgeous cathedral featuring
one of the largest pipe organs I’ve ever seen. John Zorn performed a longform improvised
piece on it for last year’s festival. Here I sat and watched Mivos Quartet perform
three pieces written by Steve Reich. Using two violins, a cello, and viola, the 
group performed a triptych consisting of Reich’s _Different Trains_, _Triple Quartet_,
and _WTC 9/11_ — and their [performance rippled with terror, uncertainty, a love
of sound, and overt nods to Bartok. It was vastly different from Holley but, oddly,
it still felt like some distant cousin, a more aberrant method of working through
emotional baggage and attempting to make sense of the senseless and the world around
us, which is often the same thing. The music echoed throughout this sacred place,
turning music into holy writ with the capacity to change the world.

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700 Bliss. Photo: Jeremy Pickard

I knew I wanted to catch 700 Bliss so after Mivos Quartet I headed to Jackson Station
where Moor Mother and DJ Haram were set to take the stage. Their 2022 debut, _Nothing
to Declare_, was a vicious and welcome assault on patriarchal power and sexual mores,
exploring these molten them=es through a series of dancefloor and hip-hop mutations.
It was aggressive and confrontational and a startling look at intersectional restlessness.
The beats clattered and disintegrated. Words were offered and revoked and reclaimed.
The  music would drop to a whisper and then grow to thunderous eruptions. The set
was anarchic and welcomed everyone into its fold, which actually made it a perfect
analog for the festival as a whole.

[[

Haela Ravenna Hunt-Hendrix of Liturgy. Photo: Jeremy Pickard

Liturgy ended the night. They performed at The Standard, a small space that encourages
close proximities and loud receptions. With the release of _93696_ less than two
weeks ago, I was curious to see these songs rendered live. and the band didn’t disappoint.
Led by Haela Ravenna Hunt-Hendrix, the band barreled through their set, limbs flailing
and bodies thrashing in time with the music. Pulling mostly from the new record,
with _Aesthethica_-cut “Generation” being the exception, it was a powerfully cathartic
show. She howled and roared at the audience, and we roared right back at her. Although
I didn’t witness them firsthand, I’m sure there were smoking craters left onstage
afterward. It possessed remarkable amplitude, and the night air cooled our bodies
as we all marched together back to our hotel rooms, homes, and various other assorted
abodes.

**Day 2**

[[

David Byrne presenting Reasons to Be Cheerful. Photo: Jeremy Pickard

When I first heard that David Byrne would be attending Big Ears, I was beyond ecstatic.
I soon saw that it would be a visual presentation and not something musical. David
Byrne’s _Reasons to Be Cheerful_ cast a spotlight on two humanitarian efforts spearheaded
by individuals in the region. One empowered homeless people to become self-sufficient
by selling neighborhood magazines — though the focus was on “Housing First”, a directive
that paired men and women with homes so that they could have a sense of stability
before attending to their financial and health needs. The second one highlighted
the connection between murals and road art and a decrease in traffic fatalities,
with an emphasis on community involvement. It was a powerful and emotional start
to a day that would find me wading through vibrant pop-centered R&B, Mexicali rhythms,
waves of droning sound, and hip-hop brilliance.

Ibeyi had long been relegated to my musical peripheral, respected but never really
embraced fully. That changed when sisters Lisa-Kainde and Naomi Diaz took the stage
and offered a respite from the worries of the world for an hour. It was cathartic,
joyous and exactly what I needed to jumpstart the afternoon. Anchored by live percussion
and bass, they had us on our feet and singing along before they left the stage. 
It became one of those miracle of Big Ears — something you weren’t expecting but
afterwards felt as though you couldn’t have lived without it. It was sore hands,
sore legs, and full hearts all around. After a quick lunch, I made my way to the
Knoxville Civic Auditorium, one of the larger venues the fest employed and a bit
of a hike from downtown proper (10 minutes is a hike, right?).

[[

Joey Burns of Calexico. Photo: Jeremy Pickard

As a fan of Calexico’s latest album, _El Mirador_, I was making a short list of 
songs I wanted to hear as I walked. I knew I’d never likely hear tracks from _Spoke_—
I’d kill to hear “Low Expectations” or “Sanchez”, but you still hold on to these
little thoughts like gems. But as ever, the band did not disappoint. Opening with“
El Mirador”, the band shepherded a few from that record, a couple from _Feast of
Wire_, and spread out the others from across four different records. It was a performance
filled with absolute joy and the spark of latin melodies and a genuine love for 
these sounds. Particular highlights were “Harness the Wind”, “a roaring version 
of “Black Heart”, and a euphoric cover of Love’s “Along Again, Or”. The music buried
down into my body, a balm for troubled times and a cure for heavy hearts.

[[

Sam Beam. Photo: Jeremy Pickard

Over the course of the weekend, I had to make choices — based partly on proximity,
and partly on how tired I was at any given moment — and the next conundrum came 
about as I was thinking about attending the Moor Mother concert or Iron & Wine. 
I had seen Sam Beam perform before but with the fantastic 700 Bliss show the previous
night, I decided to head back to the Knoxville Civic Auditorium and hunker down 
for some folky wonders. It wound up being just him and his guitar, but it seems 
like he plays a little looser under these circumstances. And that’s exactly what
happened. Charming and self-deprecating, especially about stories he’s told multiple
times over the years, Beam plucked, twanged, and rambled through sprightly versions
of “Naked As We Came”, “Galveston”, and others, striking an intimately conversational
tone. It struck me as being particularly forthcoming, as if he was singing directly
to me, speaking of past experiences and the ways in which he’s risen above troubles
and maintained some measure of hope. It also didn’t hurt that he brought out Joey
Burns of Calexico for a couple of songs.

I had plans on seeing Andrew Bird after Iron & Wine, but that would have precluded
me from catching the Grouper show — and since I had never seen Liz Harris live before,
I felt that I really had no choice but to trek up South Gay Street toward The Point,
a small church that functioned as the festival’s northernmost venue. There was a
slight delay; whispers were heard about the setup being wrong, but nothing was ever
substantively explained. Nevertheless, we were eventually ushered into the sanctum,
and Harris was soon seated behind a bay of pedals, keys, and a guitar. It was almost
entirely dark, with the only light coming from the impressionistic projections playing
out on a background screen. It was serene and mesmerizing, and I felt as though 
I had fallen away from any concept of time as the sounds slowly surrounded and encased
me in their textures. It was remarkable and I only began to come back to my senses
when the cold night air rushed to my face as I exited the church. It was around 
11:15pm, and I had one more show.

[[

billy woods. Photo: Jeremy Pickard

billy woods’ _Aetheiopes_ and _Church_ were two of the most incendiary and creative
hip-hop albums of last year, and I was anxious to see how these songs translated
live. I was relieved to find that woods was engaging, energetic, and was easily 
able to command the attention of that crowded room. Backed only by a laptop, which
he used himself, woods was fiery and volatile, words bending to his discretions 
and music toppling and rising between bars. It was a perfect approximation of the
albums, and the songs were given even more life through his dramatic delivery and
stage presence. It was showy without being presumptive, honest without calling attention
to itself. Last year woods positioned himself as one of the preeminent mantle bearers
of rap music, and seeing him in his element, deconstructing the genre while rewriting
the rules of what hip-hop can be and the emotional stakes buried within its depths.
It was well past midnight by the time we all shuffled out of the room, our heads
buzzing with dexterous lyrical maneuverings and mutated rap accouterments. The sky
was clear as I walked back to the hotel, though I knew storms would be coming overnight.

**Day 3**

I walked close to 10 miles across Knoxville on Saturday, back forth between venues
and the odd bit of food. It was my busiest day and was home to one of the greatest
concerts I’ve ever witnessed. The morning progressed leisurely, with breakfast and
then some rest and writing in the hotel room. I eventually began the walk to the
Knoxville Museum of Art where Stephen O’Malley of Sunn O))) was premiering a new
adaptation of the stage play _This is How You will Disappear_. Originally a mixed
media performance that included dancing, visual presentations, music, and other 
immersive elements, this show would find him adapting the work as audio only, offering
it as a multi-channel experience that attempts to reorient your senses and drop 
you into a harrowing world of spoken word confessions and electronic detritus. The
spoken word interludes were written by Dennis Cooper and offered a terrifying glimpse
into a stark emotional whirlwind of regret and anguish. It was a dharrowing way 
to start the day, but I came away feeling scoured, refreshed in an odd way, ready
to dig into the heart of the day’s music.

[[

Kevin Morby. Photo: Jeremy Pickard

After lunch, I headed over to Mill & Mine to catch some of Kevin Morby’s show before
time necessitated an early departure to catch The Weather Station at The Point. 
Morby’s performance could have been used to show the untapped power that indie rock
still holds in a live setting. I was hoping that he would play “A Random Act of 
Kindness” from his latest album, _This is a Photograph_ — and he did, with all its
riotous Dylanesque charm and rock ferocity. It was hard tearing myself away, but
I had heard that The Weather Station performance would stray from the louder band-
oriented sounds of her most recent tour. I got to The Point and sawe that singer
Tamara Lindeman would be sitting behind a gorgeous grand piano. Eventually she came
out alongside multi-instrumentalist Karen Ng, violinist Macie Stewart, her bassist
and drummer — and they began to run through a collection of songs that favored balladry
over overt theatricality. There were moments of rising volumes, but the overall 
feel was that of introspection and quiet determination. It was beautiful and casually
effortless, and reminded me that I need to spend more time with 2021’s _Ignorance_
and last year’s _How Is It That I Should Look at the Stars_.

[[

Devendra Banhart. Photo: Jeremy Pickard

My next stop was the Bijou Theatre, a few blocks south of my hotel, to see Devendra
Banhart. He came out wearing a dress, a reaction to the hateful legislation working
its way through Tennessee’s political sphere that seeks to ban drag shows. Drawing
mostly from  2019’s _Ma_, the set was breezy, loose, and emotionally raw — especially
on “Memorial”, where Banhart started crying as he worked his way through the ending.
He brought out Roberto Carlos Lange (aka Helado Negro) for “Abre las Manos” and 
Dorothy Berry for “Bad Girtl”, each adding their distinctive voices to his plaintive
arrangements. After his first song, his capo broke, and he jokingly asked if anyone
had one. A hand shot up from the audience, and Banhart called him up. A capo was
produced and his next song, “Mi Negrita” featured this borrowed piece of equipment.
A highlight was “Carol’s in Love”, a spry look at affection and the need to accept
love in all its forms.

[[

Ichiko Aoba. Photo: Jeremy Pickard

Next was Ichiko Aoba, performing at St. John’s Episcopal Cathedral, one of the shows
I was most excited to see. After luxuriating in her last album, _Windswept Adan_,
on the drive to Knoxville, I was ready to hear the songs expressed here. To say 
that she obliterated my expectations was an understatement. This was likely the 
most beautiful concert I have ever experienced., The sound seemed drawn down from
some celestial plane. Her voice was crystalline, frozen in time, a privilege to 
hear. And when she performed the theme from _Ponyo_, I was in tears. For the second
half of the show, she brought out a few members of the Knoxville Symphony Orchestra,
adding another layer to the already mesmerizing musical talent on display. As the
music swirled around us, no one made a sound. The church was silent but for the 
heavenly sounds pouring from the stage — it was almost unbelievable. She was humble,
graciously accepting our adoration. She even ushered the guest performers offstage
before herself. I wasn’t sure anything else would even come close to approaching
the grandeur of her set.

One of the best things about the Big Ears app is that they post the time and location
of the secret shows littered throughout the weekend, although there are always a
few extra secret shows that pop up from time to time. An hour before the show, they
post the performers, and so I was curious about the one folling Ichiko Aoba. I left
myself time to grab a quick bite to eat and then waited to see the details of the
upcoming show. Around 8:45, it came through. It would be Arooj Aftab, Shahzad Ismaily,
and Maeve Gilchrist performing at The Point, and I probably finished my food in 
10 minutes. I hurried back up South Gay Street to the venue, finding myself surrounded
by a host of people with the same idea. Once there, the venue soon reached capacity.
They took the stage and ran through half a dozen songs, finding moments to highlight
their individual prowesses. Aftab’s voice was radiant as always, Ismaily was a wizard
on Moog and bass, and Gilchrist was flying across the strings of her harp, occasionally
strumming it so hard that she created a whirling cacophony of notes. It was a brilliant
collaboration, one that allowed each to shine while highlighting their collective
talents. Even the bitter wind of the evening as I walked out of the church couldn’t
shake my joy.

[[

Charlotte Adigery & Bolis Pupul. Photo: Jeremy Pickard

I knew I wanted to catch Charlotte Adigery and Bolis Pupul, but I swung by The Standard
for a bit to catch a few songs from Xylouris White, the duo of Greek singer and 
laouto player George Xylouris and drummer Jim White (of Dirty Three fame). Their
update of traditional Greek sounds was infectious and hypnotic, and even in the 
brief time I was there, I found their music completely immersive and demanded more
attention when time allowed. Eventually I left and walked over to Mill & Mine, finding
a smaller crowd than I was expecting for the Charlotte Adigery and Bolis Pupul show.
They were letting people in during the duo’s sound check, and it was actually wonderful
hearing them work through technical hiccups and seeing the way they interacted with
one another before the show started properly. Eventually, the room started to fill
up, though I don’t believe that it ever reached capacity. The evening turned into
one giant dance party, with the band working their way through 2022’s _Topical Dancer_
with all the fervor I would have expected. Everyone was sweaty and bodies were mashing
together in a  blur of limbs and simultaneous movements. They paused once to eat
bananas,a brief respite in their energetic set. And then they were at it again, 
pouring their hearts into this roar of musical goodwill. It was joy and love and
everything we could have possibly needed.

**Day 4**

I began the last day with a trip through the musical subconscious of electronic 
legend Morton Subotnick. Performing his recent work, _As I Live and Breathe_, he
took us through moments of subtle droning rhythms, the odd melody emerging from 
these minimal atmospheres — and it was accompanied by bespoke images that added 
to the weight of the music’s perspectives. It was amazing to see him so fully invested
in his work after so many years. His dedication to experimental sounds was inspiring
and allowed those of us in attendance to revel in his vast creativities. After some
lunch, I headed over to Jackson Terminal for a set with Luke Schneider, a man whose
work with pedal steel borders on mythical, creating abstract shapes and soundscapes
that overwhelm your senses and submerge you in his considerable talents. It was 
a vast swirling collection of elongated notes and angles, and I simply closed my
eyes and surrendered to their movements.

[[

Kate NV. Photo: Jeremy Pickard

But I felt an odd pull to see Kate NV, and so I left the Schneider performance early
and walked over to the Knoxville Civic Auditorium for a set of hyperkinetic pop 
music and experimental flourishes. She was absolutely charming, a dancing ball of
energy that fed the inner parts of your heart. Her music veered between ferocious
pop music and more circuital abstractions. I am fairly certain that the smile never
left my face during the entire set. Another unexpected joy in the Big Ears experience.

[[

Oneohtrix Point Never. Photo: Jeremy Pickard

With Oneohtrix Point Never coming up at the same venue, I simply sat in my seat 
and waited for the people to start drifting in. I was surprised that they didn’t
clear the room but I didn’t mind as I had a good view of the stage. 0PN was a huge
draw for me this year, and I was filled with nervous energy. The room slowly became
full, though not packed, and Daniel Loptain took the stage at 6:00. After a brief
mention of Ryuichi Sakamoto’s recent passing and the influence Sakamoto has had 
on his own work, a moment of silence was held out of respect. And then the music
started. And it was everything I had hopped for – a visually dazzling spectacle 
of sound and emotional release. Tears were shed, and darkness was expelled.  He 
stayed behind his rig and offered us shelter from the world for an hour, and we 
were eager to immerse ourselves in his generous gifts. It was over too quickly but
left an imprint that will stay with me for a long time.

I was fairly exhausted by this time, the weekend’s activity finally taking its toll.
And I decided to skip the Algiers show that I had scheduled and get some dinner 
and rest. But the fireworks were coming. I knew that the last show of the festival,
John Zorn’s _Cobra_, would be packed, and I wasn’t wrong. Lines stretched around
blocks from the Tennessee Theatre, evidence of his popularity to those attending.
I had read a bit about _Cobra_ and knew that it was going to be an unusual experience,
and I wasn’t disappointed. Featuring 13 musicians, including guitarist Mary Halvorson,
Slayer drummer Dave Lombardo, John Medeski, and a host of others, the performance
was guided by Zorn from a separate table, with various colored cue cards scattered
across its surface. I won’t go into the mechanics of the performance, but it was
unlike anything I’d ever witnessed. There were four drummers, multiple guitarists
and bassists and other instruments that were shaken to pieces.

As I sat there and took it all in, I felt as though I was being given something 
special, a crescendo of sound that marked the ending of this whole adventure. Zorn
was personally seeing me off, showing me that it was okay to leave and carry these
memories with me. It lasted roughly 45 minutes and then it was over. _Cobra_ ws 
done, Big Ears was done, and I felt sated. I was happy and felt privileged to have
seen so much in just a few days. Over their 10 years of shows, Big Ears has become
one of the best festivals in the US, rivaling anything larger cities might offer.
And now all I can think about is what they have in store for us next year. Thanks
for the memories, and I’ll see you next year.

![](https://i0.wp.com/beatsperminute.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/04/Lonnie-Holley-
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