Music

10:30 a.m.
Time travel to a historic village
When the British forcibly removed the Acadians from parts of Canada in the mid-18th century, an event known as Le Grand Dérangement, the French-speaking Acadians started making their way down the Mississippi River, creating settlements in South Louisiana. Vermilionville was the name given to Lafayette when it was established in the 1820s as one of those settlements. Today, Vermilionville, a 23-acre, open-air living history museum along the banks of the Vermilion River, tells the story of that migration and how the Acadians’ mingling with Creole, Spanish and Native American traditions created the unique culture of today’s Acadiana. Visitors can embark on a guided boat tour of the grounds, be entertained by costumed actors and historical reenactments, or join Cajun dance lessons and jams. The on-site restaurant, La Cuisine de Maman, also hosts an all-you-can-eat Sunday brunch. Adult admission, $10; handicap-accessible. More

The Irish composer blends everyday items with Dada-like theatricals. But there’s a serious purpose to her explorations.A few weeks ago, Jennifer Walshe was backstage at a concert hall in Essen, Germany, searching for the exit when she paused near the green room. A double bass bow was laid out, ready for the evening’s performance; attached to it, wobbling in the air, were several black-and-white balloons. Walshe grinned and pulled out her phone to snap a picture.This esoteric musical apparatus had been prepared for a new piece, composed by Walshe, that would be premiering in a few hours’ time. Called “Some Notes on Martian Sonic Aesthetics, 2034-51,” it invites a chamber ensemble to impersonate a musically trained crew who have set up a colony on Mars and are beaming performances back to Earth.While researching the piece, Walshe, 49, said that she had asked NASA how sound waves travel in carbon-dioxide rich atmospheres (“you don’t hear high-end frequencies”). She had also requested that packets of freeze-dried food be placed on the percussionists’ tables, so that the audience could hear the sound of astronauts chowing down, along with cans of compressed air to imitate the hiss of airlocks opening and closing.And the helium-filled balloons? Here to make the double bassist’s bow feel 60 percent lighter, as though he were playing in Martian gravity. “I’m a hardcore science fiction fan,” Walshe said as she strode onto the street. “I want things to be as accurate as possible.”Walshe during a performance of “Some Notes on Martian Sonic Aesthetics 2034-51” at a festival in Essen, Germany. She reached out to NASA when researching the piece.Tobias RasokatOtherworldly though the Mars piece may be, by the standards of Walshe’s oeuvre, it isn’t that outlandish. In 2003, she produced a 35-minute opera, “XXX Live Nude Girls,” whose protagonists were Barbie dolls manipulated by puppeteers, their voices supplied by female vocalists. In 2017 came “My Dog & I,” a piece for cello, dancer, film, electronics — and the cellist’s pet, who curled up onstage.A few years later, Walshe began work on a knowing tribute to her homeland called “Ireland: A Dataset,” in part created by feeding gobbets of “Riverdance,” Enya, James Joyce and Irish sean nos folk song into an artificial-intelligence-generated composition engine. In the piece, which Walshe described as “a slightly bizarre radio play,” the results play out alongside video mash-ups and an instrumentalist and vocalists performing skits, one of which pokes fun at Irish American tourists visiting the country in search of their roots.It would be wrong to think of these pieces as jokes, but not entirely wrong: a vein of anarchic humor does run through much of what Walshe does, as well as a taste for hectic, Dada-like theatricals. She often appears as a vocalist in her own pieces, makes accompanying films and writes scripts and essays, in addition to her day job as a professor of composition at the University of Oxford.“It’s hard to keep up with her,” said Kate Molleson, a critic and broadcaster. “Her mind is so restless and inquisitive. I can’t think of a composer more interested in the way the contemporary world functions.”Walshe performing at a festival in Brooklyn in 2017. She often appears as a vocalist in her own pieces.Jacob Blickenstaff for The New York TimesWalshe said she sees what she does as a way of paying attention: “I want to be present, and curious and engaged,” she said over dinner one night. “The work is how I do that.”Born in Dublin to a working-class, artistically inclined family (her father worked for IBM, her mother was a writer), Walshe began as a trumpeter — initially in local youth orchestras, before studying the instrument at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland in Glasgow.At college, she said, she felt like the odd one out: She would practice and attend concerts, and work on her own compositions, but she was also fascinated by visual art, literature, film and a million other things. These obsessions were “regarded as my weird hobby,” she said with a laugh.She felt more at home when she did graduate work at Northwestern in Chicago, discovering not just avant-garde composer-performers like La Monte Young and Laurie Anderson, but also the city’s rambunctious comedy and free jazz scenes. Despite never having taken vocal training, she began to sing and improvise, and the boundaries of her creativity exploded.It is Walshe’s creed that practically everything can be material: text messages, memes, irritating conversations overheard on the train, old TV shows and movies unearthed from YouTube, online message boards, Samuel Beckett and the band One Direction have all appeared in her work.The other week, she said, she had been asked to record her dentist as he performed a procedure: “The second you say, ‘Let’s pay attention to this and see what’s going on,’ maybe that’s something interesting.” Walshe at the Darmstadt Summer Course in Germany. She will soon travel to Huddersfield, England, where she will be the resident composer at the town’s contemporary music festival.Kristof LempBut it would be wrong to interpret her work, extraordinary as it often is, as irreverent for the sake of it, Molleson said. “There’s a real compassion and tenderness there. And she’s fascinated by big issues. Take A.I., which she was exploring a decade ago: She was way ahead of most of us.” For all of its high jinks, in performance “Some Notes on Martian Sonic Aesthetics” was a disconcertingly moving meditation on the loneliness of space exploration.Later this month, Walshe will travel to the northern English town of Huddersfield, where she will be the resident composer at its annual contemporary music festival. “Ireland: A Dataset,” premiered online during the coronavirus pandemic, will have its first in-person performance on Nov. 24. And a gallery will host an exhibition of Walshe’s work, titled “13 Ways of Looking at A.I.: Art and Music,” which will develop the composer’s recent thinking on a subject that has preoccupied and fascinated her for the last decade, and which increasingly seems to infiltrate her output.The festival will open on Friday with another recent work, “Personhood,” created with the accordionist Andreas Borregaard. It explores what selfhood looks like in an era of unremitting technological surveillance — with many of our movements tracked, and much of our data scraped and mined.Andreas Borregaard playing the accordion in the Netherlands during a performance of “Personhood” this month. The work explores what selfhood looks like in an era of unremitting technological surveillance.Paul JanssenAccording to Walshe, Borregaard and the ensemble are instructed to perform choreography as if being controlled by a “mind cult.” The conductor will be equipped with the kind of clicker used by dog trainers, and there will be references to characters resembling Elon Musk and Jeff Bezos.A rumination on how it feels to cling to individuality when tech corporations seem intent on trying to turn people into biological fodder for algorithms, “Personhood” is both funny and deeply serious, like so much of Walshe’s work.“Perhaps it sounds earnest, but the way I think of my role as an artist is to try and look at the world around me, and process that,” Walshe said. “It’s how I understand what’s going on.”Huddersfield Contemporary Music FestivalThrough Nov. 26; hcmf.co.uk More

President Biden and China’s leader, Xi Jinping, face a host of thorny geopolitical issues as they meet Wednesday in San Francisco: trade, Taiwan and the war between Israel and Hamas.But they have found some common ground in the cultural sphere. Both leaders have in recent days praised the visit by a delegation of Philadelphia Orchestra musicians to China.The musicians arrived there last week to mark the 50th anniversary of the orchestra’s celebrated 1973 visit to Beijing, when it became the first American ensemble to perform in Communist-led China as the two countries worked to re-establish official ties.Now, with the relationship between the United States and China at its lowest point in four decades, their leaders have highlighted the role of music in easing tensions.Mr. Biden said in a recent letter to the orchestra that its visit this month could help “forge even closer cultural ties, forever symbolizing the power of connection and collaboration.”Mr. Xi, in a letter released on Friday, said the Philadelphia Orchestra had long played a role in strengthening the connection between the two countries, describing its 1973 visit as an “ice-breaking trip.”“Music has the power to transcend borders,” he wrote, “and culture can build bridges between hearts.”Daniel R. Russel, a former senior American diplomat now at the Asia Society Policy Institute, said that cultural exchange could build connections between China and the United States and help “refute political caricatures” that citizens of each country may hold.But there are limits, he said, given the heated rhetoric and the increasingly intense rivalry between Beijing and Washington over national security and economic issues.“It’s a very slender thread to use to knit together such a huge gash in the relationship,” he said.Cellist John Koen of the Philadelphia Orchestra, right, going over the score with his counterpart from the China National Symphony Orchestra on Friday, for a concert at the National Center for the Performing Arts in Beijing.Todd RosenbergOn Friday, a dozen musicians from the Philadelphia Orchestra joined their counterparts from the China National Symphony Orchestra for a concert at the National Center for the Performing Arts in Beijing. The program included Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, Leonard Bernstein’s overture from “Candide,” and Chinese folk songs.“It was an incredibly impactful moment,” said Matías Tarnopolsky, the orchestra’s president and chief executive. “It had the effect of focusing the attention on the arts and culture and on the beauty and the power of music to effect change.”The visit by the Philadelphia musicians, who are also traveling to Shanghai, Suzhou and Tianjin, has received wide attention in China. Many news outlets have in recent days published nostalgia-filled stories about the 1973 visit, during which the Philadelphia Orchestra, led by Eugene Ormandy, performed inside a packed hall in Beijing, a year after President Richard M. Nixon’s historic visit.At the time, China was in the final years of the Cultural Revolution, during which most traditional music, including Western classical music, was banned. Jiang Qing, Mao Zedong’s wife, made sure that the concert — which featured a favorite work, Beethoven’s Sixth Symphony (known as the “Pastoral”) — was broadcast across the country.The orchestra has been all over Chinese state media in recent days. An article about Mr. Xi’s letter to the orchestra appeared on Saturday’s front page of People’s Daily, the main newspaper of the Chinese Communist Party, just under the announcement that Mr. Xi would meet Mr. Biden in San Francisco. China Central Television, the state broadcaster, aired interviews showing Philadelphia Orchestra staff members and musicians praising Mr. Xi’s letter.The focus on the orchestra’s visit reflects the Chinese government’s recent efforts to shore up its global image by emphasizing more personal ties, said David Bandurski, co-director of the China Media Project, an independent research program based in the United States.“Emphasizing people-to-people exchanges is a way to stress the positives from the standpoint of China’s leadership,” he said. “They harken back also to an earlier time when Ping-Pong was sufficient to get both sides back to the table.” More

Arcade, a new project by Classical California, aims to dispel preconceptions about classical music and video game soundtracks.A treacherous puzzle that lies near the end of Myst, the 1993 point-and-click video game, involves a pipe organ and a spaceship.But Jennifer Miller Hammel, a pianist who got the game as a child for Christmas that year, did not have much trouble finding the solution. The experience even showed her that video games could deeply incorporate music.Hammel, 44, is now a trained opera singer and a host at Classical California, a classical musical radio network that is a collaboration between KUSC in Los Angeles and KDFC in San Francisco. But she still loves video games, gravitating toward action-adventure and role-playing series like Fallout and Mass Effect. After nearly 150 hours of space exploration, she recently completed Starfield.The musical themes to Fallout 3 or Skyrim would occasionally be played at Classical California, Hammel said. But whenever she pitched an hourly show or a podcast that would dig deeper into video game music, she was told that the genre was polarizing. More

Es Devlin is a British designer of memories and psychologies, ideas and dreams. She has created environments for operas, dance works and plays (her scenic design for “The Lehman Trilogy” won the Tony); designed concert tours for Beyoncé, U2, Kanye West, Adele and Miley Cyrus; worked on the opening ceremony of the Rio de Janeiro Olympic Games and the closing ceremony of the London Olympic Games; imagined fashion shows for Louis Vuitton; and invented huge installations, centered around endangered species and endangered languages.Her cross-disciplinary work is category-defying, and so is her new monograph, “An Atlas of Es Devlin” (Thames & Hudson) — an exquisitely produced and immersive artwork in itself, containing photographs, texts, foldouts, pullouts, translucent overlays and cutout pages that reflect the intricacy and imaginative extent of Devlin’s processes, from concept to final iteration.Pop concerts, like Beyoncé’s 2016 Formation World Tour, are about achieving the intimacy of television “on a gladiatorial, sports arena scale,” said Es Devlin, the tour’s stage designer.Kevin Mazur/WireImage, via Getty ImagesAn example of Es Devlin’s scenic design, using the box motif, was “The Lehman Trilogy,” shown here at the National Theater in London in 2018.via Es Devlin StudioAn exhibition of the same name, based on “An Atlas,” opens at the Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum on Saturday, Devlin’s first major solo show in the United States. “In many aspects, it’s a three-dimensional manifestation of the book,” Devlin said in a recent interview at her home in south London, where a long refectory table in front of floor-to-ceiling glass windows was laden with books on climate change, economics and art.“There is no presumption that you know what my work is,” Devlin, 52, said, describing the exhibition, which will begin in a replica of her studio before a wall opens to reveal a series of apertures, inscribed with the names of everyone she has worked with.Devlin has “reinvented the wheel in every field she has been part of, whether theater, poetry, sculpture, climate or installation,” the art historian Katy Hessel said. She added, “I would define her as a visionary.”Hans Ulrich Obrist, the artistic director of the Serpentine Galleries in London, said that Devlin’s gift is not just to unite “so many different talents, of design, architecture, writing, drawing, but that she has created an art form of collaboration. She creates a communal space for the rituals of theater, pop concerts or art.”Over several hours and a vegetable curry, Devlin picked favorite works in the book and the exhibition, speaking with characteristic verve about her past, her partnerships and her passions. “For me,” she said, “there is no hierarchy between the value of the opera ‘Carmen’ and Beyoncé.” Here are edited excerpts from the conversation.1. A series of teenage sketchesA sequence of drawings by Es Devlin, 1989: Studies of a female figure constrained within a box. She later translated the box into theatrical space.Es DevlinThis sequence shows six drawings of a female figure with a box or a cube, made when I was 18 years old, in 1989. I had just started an English literature degree at University of Bristol, and I would have been reading “Beowulf” and living in the library.I was very attracted to figures of speech that conjure unstable and impossible matter, where matter and language won’t sit together. All the great poets live in this place. As I was reading and writing, I became more and more eager to draw. I resisted going to art school because the people going there knew what they wanted to say, and I didn’t. I wanted to learn.In these drawings, a person is constrained within a box that is too small, or is static within the box, or manipulating it. The person holds on to it like an iceberg, uses it like a lookout post or a climbing frame. Of course the box translates into the theatrical space. I have made several works, like “Don Giovanni,” or “The Lehman Trilogy,” using a box as a structure for design. These sketches are a map or atlas of everything I have made since.2. A hand mapEs Devlin, “Redraw the Edges of Yourself,” 2023. After making observational drawings of endangered species in London, she made a poster that shows the porosity between her hand and their form, her knuckle and the edge of a bird wing.Es DevlinLast year, Hans Ulrich Obrist, who has been a real mentor for me, called to ask me to design a poster for a project at the Serpentine called “Back to Earth.” By the next day.At the time, I was working on a project called “Come Home Again,” for which I drew 243 endangered, nonhuman species living in London. I was inspired by the environmental activist Joanna Macy and other writers who speak to the continuity of the biosphere and the self. In other words, if you saw other species and the rest of the world as a continuation of yourself, you wouldn’t harm it.I was drawing insects, fish, plants, mammals, sometimes 18 hours a day, and in a slightly hallucinatory frame of mind. When Hans Ulrich called, I just put my hand on paper, drew around it, took photos of some of the drawings, and plunked them around the outline. When I did that, I felt that continuity between myself and the species I was drawing — between my knuckle and the edge of a bird wing, the veins on my hand and on a leaf. The species are a sort of tattoo composition on the hand. This drawing, which is a D.I.Y. pop-up, is placed inside the book, as a gift.3. A line of lightEs Devlin, “Morning I,” 2009. Photograph of a line of light between curtains.Es DevlinThis is a photograph I took, around 2016, of a line of sunlight coming in through curtains or blinds. Now, every day, when I wake up, I photograph the line of light and spend about 20 quiet minutes meditating on this. In the exhibition there is a voice-over about this, with the image.Lucio Fontana, whose work I saw at the Tate as a teenager, is obviously a huge influence here. The first film I worked on, in 2008, with the composer Nitin Sawhney and the choreographer Dam Van Huynh, was a story about a person entering a line of light; in art you can! I’ve used it in many other pieces — Alastair Marriott’s “Connectome” at the Royal Ballet, “A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” “Howie the Rookie” — and I know I’ll continue to do so.4. ‘Miracle Box’Es Devlin, “Miracle Box,” 2016. She built a box covered with projections of her hands trying in various ways to access a light at the heart of the rotating cube. The work was part of a series of revolving box sculptures including Beyoncé’s Formation Tour and “The Lehman Trilogy.”Es DevlinIn 2016, Hans Ulrich Obrist invited me to give a talk at the Serpentine. I thought of myself as a set designer, so I was excited to be welcomed in [the art] world, which can frankly be quite exclusive. I talked about the mechanics of the suspension of disbelief, and while I was talking, I built a box onstage — all very basic, Velcro and tape. But when I finished building it, the lights went off, music came on and the box turned, covered with projections of my hands trying in various ways — cutting through clay, paper and mirrored board — to access a light that appeared to be at the heart of the rotating cube.I have made a version of this in lots of different modes. For Beyoncé’s 2016 Formation Tour, I thought about how the art form of the pop concert is an attempt to achieve the intimacy that television, and now films, give to people, but on a gladiatorial, sports arena scale. When I first talked to Beyoncé, she had written a poem that had the line “an electric current humming through me.” I think what she was expressing in the poem was the sensation that she was a medium for her songs.When I was flying over to meet her, I made some sketches on the plane. I hadn’t heard the “Lemonade” album yet, but knew it was about a relationship and a crisis. I wanted to show something between the poster icon and [King Lear’s] “bare, forked” creature, a small figure, constantly in motion, magnified in the revolving cube.5. ‘Carmen’: The suspension of disbeliefDevlin’s opera set for “Carmen” in Bregenz, Austria, in 2017 was based on a scene where Carmen throws cards into the air.Es DevlinHands suspended between sea and sky, magic, illusion, the suspension of disbelief. This is one of my favorite things, the backdrop for the opera “Carmen,” in 2017 in Bregenz, Austria. This is an extraordinary venue for an opera festival. After the Second World War, Maria Wanda Milliore, a young set designer, suggested performances on a barge on the lake because the concert hall had been bombed. My design was the first by a woman in that spot since 1946.I was watching bull fights, wanted a big bull, but the director, Kasper Holten, said no. So we went back to the text and were looking at the scene when Carmen throws the cards into the air. As I imitated that action, Kasper said, “That’s it!”It’s really difficult to make work on a barge in a lake, to make the cards look like they are floating. One of the reasons the set is so beautiful is that there are no visible speakers. Here, whole chunks of the hands are made of gauze and are full of speakers, as are the cards. The whole thing is a big, 25-meter-high sound-emitting device.6. ‘Your Voices’Es Devlin, “Your Voices,” 2022, an installation at Lincoln Center created in collaboration with the Endangered Language Alliance.Es DevlinDuring the pandemic, when so much cultural work was extinct, I had an invitation to make a piece from the Champagne house, Moët & Chandon. If this sort of project is not truthfully approached, it can end up as an advert.I wanted to collaborate with the Endangered Language Alliance, which Brian Eno had introduced me to. The anthropologist Wade Davis said, “Every language is an old-growth forest of the mind”: When we lose a language we lose a library of cultural, historical and biological references.I felt the installation should be at Lincoln Center because New York is the city that is home to the most languages — 637 at last count. I used a compass as the basis of the design for an illuminated kinetic sculpture on the plaza, mapping the languages across the city, then stretching the 637 lines across the arc to connect with one another. You could stand inside the object and it was like being inside a musical instrument. At the same time, you heard recordings of the endangered languages all around you, speaking the E.M. Forster text, “Only connect,” and other poems. There were choirs from the Bronx, a Ukrainian and Russian choir, Japanese and African choirs. It was a deeply condensed version of being in New York City.7. The iris“An Atlas of Es Devlin” opens with several layered pages with circular apertures, an iris shape, with the names of collaborators.Es DevlinThis figure turns up a lot in my work, and it is the opening piece in the exhibition. It is based on a series of eight cutout, circular layered apertures at the start of the book. In the exhibition, the room is filled with a replica of these pages with holes through the center, built to the height of the room. The visitor walks through them, and becomes part the structure.In a circle around each hole are the names of all the people who I have worked with; it’s an atlas of participation. Any collaboration is about seeing through the lens of the designer, the composer, the choreographer, the playwright, the director. What I quite like is that the iris shape isn’t stable; there are a lot of currents clashing together and centrifugally holding. This is about trying to develop a muscle to see through the lens of others. More

A new biography resuscitates the colorful, tragic life of Mal Evans: roadie, confidant, procurer, cowbell player.LIVING THE BEATLES LEGEND: The Untold Story of Mal Evans, by Kenneth WomackHe was a “gentle giant.” A “teddy bear” who once posed with a koala. A “lovable, cuddly guy.” Of all the people in the Beatles’ entourage, Mal Evans was indisputably the most Muppet-like.You may have seen the 6-foot-3 Evans looming over shoulders in “Get Back,” Peter Jackson’s blockbuster 2021 documentary. That was him in a green, suede, fringed jacket, helping Paul McCartney puzzle out “The Long and Winding Road,” and banging an anvil on “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer” with boyish joy in his bespectacled eyes.He was with the band almost from the beginning — first as a bouncer at the Cavern Club in Liverpool, and then as their driver, roadie and general guy Friday — and all the way to the very bitter end. He was rarely called the fifth Beatle, as was his comrade in factotum-dom, Neil Aspinall, but certainly could have qualified as the sixth or seventh.Unlike Aspinall and so many other Beatles associates, however, Evans did not receive an obituary in The New York Times when he died at 40 on Jan. 5, 1976. Nor was there a news story about the sensational cause: a fusillade of bullets from the police, summoned after he, who idolized cowboys as well as rock stars, brandished a loaded Winchester rifle in his girlfriend’s Los Angeles apartment.At the time, Evans was under contract from Grosset & Dunlap to write a long-planned (and Beatles-authorized) memoir about his time with the group, originally called “200 Miles to Go” after the night he punched out a dangerously cracked windscreen and chauffeured his charges for hours through the freezing cold. Almost 50 years later, after the manuscript and other materials were discovered languishing in a storage basement by a publishing temp and returned to Evans’s family with Yoko Ono’s help, Kenneth Womack has finished the job, with rigor and care if not a sparkling prose style. (In his pages, emotions are always reaching a “fever pitch” and the “winds of change” can actually be glimpsed.) A practiced Beatlesologist, he cleans the floors nicely, but doesn’t dance with the mop.“Living the Beatles Legend,” its wan title taken with perhaps too much respect from a later iteration of the Evans project, is an interesting case study of two matters: the collateral damage of fame and the difficult process of life writing. Reprinted journal entries and previously unseen (at least by me) snapshots, like of McCartney sunning himself on a car in the Rocky Mountains, offer the voyeuristic excitement of leafing through a private scrapbook, though many of the stories are standards.Born in 1935, Evans was a little older and posher than the Fab Four. His family waited out the Blitz in Wales; he was issued a Mickey Mouse gas mask. Nicknamed “Hippo” during a shyness-plagued school career — “I didn’t mind,” he wrote, “because it always seemed to be a fairly amiable, vegetarian type of animal, not doing anybody any harm” — he already had a wife, toddler and respectable position as a telecommunications engineer for the General Post Office when he began visiting the Cavern.There, he’d request Elvis covers that the Beatles would dedicate teasingly — and cruelly, in retrospect — to “Malcontent,” “Malfunctioning” or “Malodorous,” before hiring him for 25 pounds per week, not all expenses paid.Evans would both revel in and chafe at his subordinate role, devoting himself completely to the whims of these infantilized musicians; John Lennon need only yell “Apples, Mal” at 3 a.m., for example, and a box of Golden Delicious would materialize from Covent Garden.George Harrison, who also gets a new biography this season, once recalled Evans — a determined athlete who was chased by a stingray and risked hypothermia playing Channel Swimmer in “Help!” — leaping from a boat to buy a “groovy-looking cloak” off the back of a fan. He’d go to spectacular lengths to recover Harrison’s treasured red guitar, “Lucy,” from a thief.Evans’s reward, and ultimate punishment, for loyal service to the Beatles was sharing in their sybaritic habits. In their orbit he met scores of celebrities: Marlene Dietrich, exposing her pubic hair; Burt Lancaster, whose swim trunks he borrowed; a trouserless Keith Moon. His responsibilities included occasionally spraying overzealous fans with a garden hose and tossing them over his shoulder before ejection and — more consistently — procuring women and drugs, of which he also partook.Like a Mary Poppins of vice, Evans came to carry around a doctor’s bag filled with plectra, cigarettes, condoms, snacks and aspirin. The gentle giant was also, Womack makes plain, a clumsy compartmentalizer. His long-suffering wife, Lily, would find notes (and sometimes knickers) from groupies in his suitcases. Their children once overheard him being fellated by his girlfriend after he sent a birthday message to one of them on recycled cassette tape. An illegitimate son he sired with a fan was given up for adoption. More than the other underlings, and irritatingly to some, he insinuated himself into public photographs. He became a fan favorite. “Everybody knew Mal,” Heart’s Ann Wilson, one of Womack’s many supplemental interviewees, observed of the roar when he came onstage to set up at a Seattle concert.Increasingly, he angled for recognition and promotion. Sometimes, he was cheated of credit, as in his contributions to “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band”; sometimes, he overreached, claiming that he helped arrange songs on the debut album of the Iveys, later Badfinger. One of the great sadnesses of Evans — along with his oft-abandoned family — is that he longed to perform himself. “Road manager for the Beatles was, for me, the next best thing,” he wrote. Like the Will Ferrell character in the deservedly famous “Saturday Night Live” sketch about Blue Öyster Cult, he did get the chance to play cowbell, on “With a Little Help From My Friends.”There’s a poignant stiffness to the diaries Evans kept, possibly for posterity, and the poetry he attempted. An ordinary man who took an extraordinary ride that ended with a terrible crash — aspiring toward honor but submitting to appetites — he is here dusted off and given a proper salute, a place on the groaning shelf of Beatles books.Though tellingly, even if by accident, his name is left off the spine.LIVING THE BEATLES LEGEND: The Untold Story of Mal Evans | More

The artist, best known as one-half of Outkast, will release “New Blue Sun,” an instrumental album of ambient woodwind compositions, on Friday.André 3000, the unpredictable rapper, producer and songwriter best known as one-half of Outkast, is finally releasing a solo album. In a twist, it has no words.Instead, “New Blue Sun,” due out Friday, “is an entirely instrumental album centered around woodwinds,” according to an announcement on Tuesday. Citing Laraaji, Brian Eno, Alice Coltrane, Steve Reich and Pharoah Sanders as influences, the musician has traded beats and raps for flutes and clarinets — a swerve he began some two decades ago as Outkast was winding down.“I’ve been interested in winds for a long time, so it was just a natural progression for me to go into flutes,” André, 48, said in the announcement. “I just like messing with instruments and I gravitated mostly toward wind.”The artist, born André Benjamin, last released an album with Outkast in 2006: “Idlewild,” the soundtrack to the duo’s movie musical. “Speakerboxxx/The Love Below,” the group’s Grammy-winning double album, arrived three years earlier.In the time since, André has surfaced as a featured rapper on songs by Kesha, Beyoncé, Future, Kanye West and others, appearing most recently on Killer Mike’s “Scientists & Engineers,” which was nominated last week for two Grammy Awards (best rap performance and best rap song). In 2014, André and Big Boi reunited as Outkast for a run of festival concerts.“I remember, at like 25, saying, ‘I don’t want to be a 40-year-old rapper,’” André told The New York Times in 2014, when he was 39. “I’m still standing by that. I’m such a fan that I don’t want to infiltrate it with old blood.” He added, “I don’t sit around and write raps, I just don’t. Now the only time I’m really inspired to write raps is if an artist that I enjoy invites me to their party.”The first track of “New Blue Sun” is 12 minutes long and titled, “I Swear, I Really Wanted to Make a ‘Rap’ Album But This Is Literally the Way the Wind Blew Me This Time.” (Other tracks on the eight-song ambient album include “Ninety Three ’Til Infinity and Beyoncé” and “Ghandi, Dalai Lama, Your Lord & Savior J.C. / Bundy, Jeffrey Dahmer, and John Wayne Gacy.”)The album was co-produced by André and Carlos Niño, and includes contributions from the guitarist Nate Mercereau and Surya Botofasina on keyboards and synthesizers. André’s playing encompasses a digital wind instrument, a Maya flute and others of wood and bamboo, the announcement said.For years, he has hinted at his new, preferred musical direction. On Mother’s Day in 2018, André released two songs on SoundCloud, “Me&My (To Bury Your Parents)” and “Look Ma No Hands,” centered around bass clarinet. And spotting the musician around the world with his woodwinds, from the Los Angeles airport to the streets of Japan, has become something of a game for fans.In a new interview with NPR, André cited positive feedback for his ambient music from younger artists like Tyler, the Creator and Frank Ocean. “I don’t want to troll people,” André said. “I don’t want people to think, Oh, this André 3000 album is coming! And you play it and like, Oh man, no verses. So even actually on the packaging, you’ll see it says, ‘Warning: no bars.’”“In my mind, I really would like to make a rap album,” he added in the announcement. “So maybe that happens one day, but I got to find a way to say what I want to say in an interesting way that’s appealing to me at this age.” More

Hear songs by Amythyst Kiah, Kara Jackson, Tray Wellington and more.Amythyst Kiah.Liam Woods for The New York TimesDear listeners,“Today Black folk performers have reached a critical mass and level of exposure not seen since the early decades of the 20th century,” writes the author Adam Bradley in a fascinating article published last week in T: The New York Times Style Magazine. Bradley’s piece is densely populated with a number of modern musicians who are pushing the limits of folk and reclaiming a style of music that has come to be associated — ahistorically, Bradley points out — with whiteness.What is folk music, though? It’s a slippery term that seems to mean something different to every generation. Is it strictly music rooted in the past and played with acoustic instruments, or can it include more forward-thinking artists like the Americana experimentalist Jake Blount and the blues rocker Amythyst Kiah? I like the expansive non-definition proposed by the singer-songwriter and guitarist Big Bill Broonzy, as quoted by Bradley: “Some people call these ‘folk songs,’” he said onstage once. “Well, all the songs that I’ve heard in my life was folk songs. I’ve never heard horses sing none of them yet!”Today’s playlist provides an introduction to some of the musicians Bradley mentions in his article, like the folk-poet Kara Jackson and the lightning-fingered banjo player Tray Wellington. It also features some Black folk pioneers who inspired future generations, like Odetta and Tracy Chapman. May it open your ears and expand your conception of what folk is, and what it can be.Also: A very special thank you to Jon Pareles for filling in for me for Friday’s newsletter while I was on vacation! It was the first time someone else has taken the reins of The Amplifier, but I knew it was in the best of hands.Listen along on Spotify as you read.1. Our Native Daughters: “Black Myself”Named in reference to James Baldwin’s “Notes of a Native Son,” Our Native Daughters is a formidable collective featuring four artists at the heart of the Black folk revival: Rhiannon Giddens, Amythyst Kiah, Leyla McCalla and Allison Russell. Kiah wrote the powerful opening track of the group’s 2019 debut “Songs of Our Native Daughters,” and later rerecorded it on her 2021 solo album “Wary + Strange.” (Listen on YouTube)2. Kara Jackson: “Pawnshop”In April, Kara Jackson — the former National Youth Poet Laureate of the United States — released her debut album “Why Does the Earth Give Us People to Love?” The slinky “Pawnshop” shows off the 23-year-old’s lyricism, as she asserts in a sly voice, “I’m not a liquidated asset, I’m sharper than a jewel/What kind of miner does that make you?” (Listen on YouTube)3. Odetta: “Hit or Miss”A central figure in the 1960s folk revival, the Alabama-born singer and guitarist Odetta inspired Bob Dylan, Joan Baez and countless others with her impassioned take on traditional Americana and her unmistakable voice. “Hit or Miss,” from her 1970 album “Odetta Sings,” is one of her greatest originals. “Ain’t nobody just like this,” she sings on this soulful song of self. “I gotta be me, baby, hit or miss.” (Listen on YouTube)4. Tray Wellington: “Crooked Mind”“Tray Wellington knows that many will take the title of his 2022 album, ‘Black Banjo,’ as an oxymoron,” Bradley writes in his article. But on that album — and its lively, dexterously picked opening track — Wellington reclaims the instrument’s African origins while adding his own modern flair. (Listen on YouTube)5. Rhiannon Giddens: “You’re the One”Earlier this year, Giddens — a founding member of both the Carolina Chocolate Drops and Our Native Daughters, as well as a prolific and ever-evolving solo artist — won a Pulitzer Prize for co-writing her first opera, “Omar,” which tells the true story of a Muslim African man enslaved in America in the early 19th century. This August, Giddens also released her third solo album (and first full LP of her own tracks), the eclectic “You’re the One,” which features this sunny, banjo-driven track. (Listen on YouTube)6. Amythyst Kiah: “Hangover Blues”“Woke up this morning, feeling bad,” the mighty Kiah wails on “Hangover Blues,” accompanied by a beat that stomps like a throbbing headache. That’s not to say, on this standout from her 2021 album “Wary + Strange,” that she regrets anything: “And if I did it all over again,” she sings, “you know I’d do the same damn thing anyhow.” (Listen on YouTube)7. Tracy Chapman: “Talkin’ Bout a Revolution”This year, the country musician Luke Combs’s hit cover of “Fast Car” has brought some much-deserved attention to Tracy Chapman and the heartfelt brand of bluesy folk for which she first became known in the late 1980s. This galvanizing opening track from her 1988 self-titled album is just as deserving of a revival. (Listen on YouTube)8. Jake Blount: “Didn’t It Rain”The 28-year-old singer, songwriter and banjo player Jake Blount — who has described his music as “genrequeer” — has one ear oriented to the past, the other to the future. His 2020 album “Spider Tales” established him as a thrilling new voice, and his 2022 follow-up “The New Faith” (which features the portentous “Didn’t It Rain”) took his ambitious vision even further. (Listen on YouTube)9. Carolina Chocolate Drops: “Hit ‘Em Up Style”In 2005, the young folk revivalists Giddens, Dom Flemons and Súle Greg Wilson formed the Carolina Chocolate Drops, an influential, all-Black string band with a 21st century style. As on this playful cover of Blu Cantrell’s 2001 R&B hit “Hit ‘Em Up Style (Oops!),” the Chocolate Drops connected the dots between Black music past and present, inspiring others to do the same. (Listen on YouTube)It sounds like a whisper,LindsayThe Amplifier PlaylistListen on Spotify. We update this playlist with each new newsletter.“Meet the Next Generation of Black Folk Singers” track listTrack 1: Our Native Daughters, “Black Myself”Track 2: Kara Jackson, “Pawnshop”Track 3: Odetta, “Hit or Miss”Track 4: Tray Wellington, “Crooked Mind”Track 5: Rhiannon Giddens, “You’re the One”Track 6: Amythyst Kiah, “Hangover Blues”Track 7: Tracy Chapman, “Talkin’ Bout a Revolution”Track 8: Jake Blount, “Didn’t It Rain”Track 9: Carolina Chocolate Drops, “Hit ‘Em Up Style”Bonus TracksI do not think I fully understood the bluesy pathos of Green Day’s 1997 single “Hitchin’ a Ride” until I heard Amythyst Kiah’s smoldering cover, from her imaginative 2022 EP “Pensive Pop.” Highly recommended. More