New Blogging whereabouts - at ye olde myspace

Hey there - it seems a little silly to maintain two different sites with my infrequent blogs, so, I've decided to put all future writings down on the MJ myspace site - at myspace.com/michael_johnston.

re: the Scots...

Of all the memories that I'll leave Austin with, it'll be my connections with three fabulous Scottish singers that'll likely endure.
The writing and playing sessions went really well - we seemed to meet on a fertile middle ground. I found myself gravitating towards more 'traditional' structures, while I think they were keen on getting away from that problematic word.
In addition to the songwriting, I taught Paul, Emily and Karine a few of my songs; they dropped in on my showcases, and added accordion, background vocals and guitar.
On my final morning in Austin, I stumbled outta bed as early as I could manage to take in a bit of South Austin. It's a very easy place to love: bumper stickers that read "south austin...we're all here 'cause we're not all there" ingratiated me immediately to it. I ate a delicious cornmeal/almond cookie, bought some tupelo honey, and spent three hours marveling at the architecture, and the left-wing lawn signs.

Below you'll see some shots from South Austin, as well as a picture of our showcase, me and Emily Smith, and me and Paul McLachlan...

Hello y'all or within Austin City Limits...

Friends,

I'm currently sleeping and eating in the most unlikely of settings - the Hilton Hotel, in downtown Austin, Texas. I was first invited here to showcase at the 18th international Folk Alliance Conference. There are thousands of folks here: showcases in hotel rooms, violins in the hotel lobby, Canadians clustering in BBQ restaurants. The whole thing is a total marvel to me.

I'm also involved in an international event called "for the sake of the song" with 3 Scottish songwriters (Karine Polwart, Emily Smith and Paul McLaughlin) and 2 Americans (Liz Carlisle and Jenifer Jackson). We meet every day in the Penthouse suite of the Hilton (because, really, where else should folk music be borne of?), and pair up to write a new song. Yesterday, Emily and I pulled out our accordions, and had a grand time finishing a song called "House on the Hill". They're all fabulous musicians and writers, and I hope to squeeze in time with all of them.

I've struck up a lovely kinship with Lynn Miles as well; I sat in with her a few nights ago at the all-Canuck "Beaver Suite", and she returned the favour for my showcase last night. I had a tricky time renting a keyboard, so I ended up doing a 30-minute show using just my accordion and toy piano (and Lynn's backup vocals). The almost-empty room started to fill up as soon as I played, and included drop-in listeners Peter Yarrow (! - really - ! - from Peter, Paul and Mary - and I was playing melodica, of all things) and Gurf Morlix (Lucinda Williams' producer, who I think left just as I did my rendition of "Am I Too Blue" on my wee toy piano)

Walking through the South Congress neighbourhood and down 5th and 6th, I've been taken by the amount of live music happening in this city. There really is no Canadian equivalent. And the food! A slow-cooked, free-range chicken BBQ last night, and the freshest Mexican enchillada/salsa/quail dinner I've ever had.

There's No Place Like It...

I'm back in Canada now, and as such, the Korea blog will be retired.
However, as photos are developed and forwarded and cropped and discovered, I'll certainly post more here.
Here are two shots from the wedding - one of me playing "Off Guard" as the 'celebration song' during the ceremony, another of me and Nate (the proud groom) together. I'm wearing my Sunday best, he's wearing a hanbok, which drew gasps and adoring looks from the Koreans gathered for their special day.

Seoul Man, Part II

I'm back on the very computer I used to post my first blog back in September - the "KT Plaza" in the Incheon International Airport.
Seoul was like a conveyor belt for me; it kept turning and turning, and I could hop on and off whenever I wanted. Yesterday, I abandoned my trip to the entirely massive Dongdaemon market (the density of people combined with the rain made for an impossible-to-win and endless game of umbrella duals with passersby). Instead, I retreated to my favourite area of the city, Insadong. Insadong is a bit like Kensington Market in Toronto: funky and chain-free. There, I drank the best cup of tea I've ever had (a homemade ginger, apple, and honey brew), and bought walnut cakes made before my eyes from a street vendor.
I ended up playing two gigs here. One was a surprisingly inspired open stage, where I accompanied Brenda (my kind host and fine singer-songwriter), and the "Korean John Denver" - a man who speaks almost no English, but can rattle off JD and Paul Simon songs like you wouldn't believe. Our official "gig" was a loud and brash affair, thanks to a rowdy but supportive English audience. I've never heard a crowd roar at the simple mention of "the 401".
Anyways, my flight is about to start boarding, and I should really track down some green tea...

Seoul Man

I've spent a full 24 hours in Seoul now, and it certainly lives up to it's promise as a cosmopolitan, stepping-into-the-future kind of place. Itaewon, where I'm staying, has an American military compound, German, Egyptian and Mexican restaurants and more "PC rooms" (where, apparently, several Koreans a year die from dehydration - they can't stop playing video games, and forget (?) to get up to get a drink). I went into a place called "Paris Baguette" that was paired with a Baskin Robbins. I'm not normally a real dessert eater, but seeing a red bean donut and glutinous rice sesame ball made me break down and buy both. As I was paying for my treats, I noticed a small TV screen beside the cashier: Drew Barrymore being kissed. And kissed again. And again. Then, an ice-cream cone appeared in her hand, she smiled, and the Baskin Robbins logo appeared. A bona fide "Lost in Translation" kinda moment.

My friend's big wedding was a few days ago - it defies explanation at the moment, but it was lovely, colourful, and unique. Traditionally, in Korean weddings, there is a 'celebration song', and so Nate and Hyo Jung picked "Off Guard" as their song. Facing a largely Korean audience of about 100, I did a version on the accordion that ranks as one of the most memorable performances I've been fortunate enough to give.

Kiwis on the vine, freshly-squeezed cactus juice, a veritable bonsai plaza, a re-creation of a traditional folk village - all, unbelievably, found in one central place today - Hallum Park. Young kids jumped on what I recognized as a teeter-totter (they actually jump, not sit, and each person bounces up and down on their end like a trampoline). It was a classic kinda day in Jeju - comfortably warm, with a cooling breeze whispering through every few minutes or so.
Tomorrow is the big wedding; Nate's parents tried on their hanboks (elegant traditional Korean attire) today, and we ate like champions once again.
The first picture above: Nate and I eating bibimbab, soup and other side-dishes for lunch
The second: Front window of the hanbok shop, one of several found within a few blocks.

Live is as fresh as it gets

Last night, while out to a Japanese restaurant with Nate and "Mr. S", I was presented (by a visit from the chef) with a live shrimp. Within seconds, "Mr. S" ate his, leaving me to stare upon the still-writhing critter before me. I'm not sure what it was - the beer, the good company, the worry of offending a cultural tradition, whatever - I took it in both hands, and ate it's middle in one bite. It's the next morning now, and I'm still in shock.

Table For Twenty

This picture is from a downtown restaurant we ate at for Nate's bachelor party. Everybody sits cross-legged on the colourful cushions, enjoys the side dishes (ya see what I mean?), and cooks their food on the silver 'fryer' found in the middle of each table setting.

In Korea, it's a well-followed to tradition to allow the oldest (and often wealthiest) member of the dinner party to pay for your lunch or dinner bill. One of Nate's former students (who we'll call Mr. S) enjoys taking Nate out fairly regularly for a meal, and upon hearing I arrived in town, called us up to invite us both along to dinner. Mr. S has one of the charming faces that is always ready to break out into a smile. Mr. S also insists on being called "Mr. S", which instantly creates a light mood when you meet him (really, when was the last time you called someone "Mr ______"?) We had a veritable feast (of side-dishes, naturally), and then he treated us to extraordinarily expensive cappacino (about $10 for a small cup) at a downtown hotel.
What else?
Well, we've been playing daily games of tennis on clay courts that are within view from the apartment windows. We also celebrated Nate's bachelor party two nights ago. It was a late-night affair to be sure, but also involved taking a 90-minute cruise of sorts aboard a small vessel with a dozen or so other teachers. The views were stunning, we got drenched, and I saw the most number of jellyfish I could've ever imagined in one place, temporarily reviving a childhood phobia. Another highlight: walking through the youthful part of downtown and stumbling upon four batting cages. Honestly! The man who operates them also is a street vendor who also sells mystery meat and rents out a trampoline (!). The cage was so small that I had to switch hit just to make contact, and I felt a bit badly - hitting balls within inches of people's apartment windows - but it brought back an older version of myself I seldom visit. I frequently used to dream of playing professional baseball. I memorized stat books, studied books on hitting (Rod Carew, a California Angel, wrote what became my personal bible on the subject), and watched games fiendishly.
Oh yes, and on Friday night, I actually played a gig. The cafe was packed of equal parts foreigners and Koreans, and the first set in particular was a joy. I hammered out songs on an un-mic'd upright piano, and wandered through the crowd playing accordion and singing. The Koreans in attendance seemed quite taken with the show, a happy surprise given the scarcity of live music over here. I've have a bit of an accordion re-awakening since I've been here; its portability and capacity for dynamics make it an ideal instrument to travel with. Amazingly, it's always been allowed on board with me on flights. I want to insert an accordion joke at my own expense here, but I'll let you take it away if you'd like...

The Jeju Love Museum

I truly can't believe what I just took in.
The Jeju Love Museum: an outdoor sculpture park with sculpture after sculpture of oversized life-life figures in a wide variety of sexual poses, deeds, and adventures.
I truly can't believe what I just took in.
The grounds were impeccably designed, with manicured palm trees, cobblestone walkways, penis-shaped fountains, and wind-up figurines that act out a specific sexual act . It was so not your average walk in the park. As soon as my first roll of film is developed, expect some lurid postings here.
What is even more surreal about the park is how pastoral the surrounding area is. Add to that the fact that it's on a very conservative island which is part of a relatively conservative country, and you can understand:
I truly can't believe what I just took in.
On an unrelated note (though part of the reason I almost titled this post "sex, (no) drugs and rock n' roll"), I had my first performance in Korea last night. It was at a lovely jazz club, located very close to the ocean. Nate knew the owner, so we stopped in for a few drinks (there was nobody else inside, so it made for, again, a relatively surreal atmosphere). I ambled over to the upright piano and played a song for the crowd of three, and then the owner picked up his guitar, and suggested that we play some jazz (a reasonable enough request, given that I was in an actual jazz club). I defrayed his enthusiasm somewhat, insisting that I don't really play jazz. "Take The 'A' Train" he insistently said, and passed me the chart. I'm a big Duke Ellington fan, and I've heard that song dozens of times, so maybe that's what got me through the 10-minute version we ended up jamming out together (which was unfortunately augmented by a drum machine, triggered by the owner). At one point, I tried to segue into "The Country North of Peterboorugh", and briefly succeeded, but the weight of playing 'jazz' sunk my attempts in the end. Still, it was a grand time; I'll be returning this Friday night for a proper gig.

What a humbling pleasure to take part in one of Korea's two major national holidays - Chuseok ("chew-sock") - yesterday. It's a morning celebration that approximates North American Thanksgiving. Unsurprisingly, it involved an incredible diversity of delicious side-dishes, but also serious rituals to remember the dead. Nate and I were invited into Hyo Jung's family's home, and we bowed twice on our knees before a food offering to her departed father. We walked to another family member's home and payed our respects in similiar fashion. I felt so welcomed and accepted; smiles, food and tradition formed a connection where our gap in language couldn't.
The night before, I was taken to a "singing room", where, believe it or not, I was coaxed into singing not only an Eagles song ("Desperado", if you must know), but a Richard ('Dick') Marx song too ("Right Here Waiting", a number I was once commissioned to learn for a wedding I played at in Grade 10). The singing room is an irony-free environment where small groups of Korean friends and/or family gather to belt out songs with the intent of a Canadian Idol competitor. Not to be mistaken with karoake (which is done, like in the West, in a bar, with drinking and food to boot), these rooms are small - a few couches, a giant screen for the lyrics, and your own private PA system. And everyone participates. Our group was delighted to note that Sebastian Bach grew up in my hometown; naturally, Nate obliged the room with a passionate rendition of "I Remember You".

of rice and men

I'm still rubbing the jet-lag out of my eyes, but otherwise doing very well in Jeju. I think I've mastered "hello", "goodbye" and "thank you" in Korean, which is more challenging than one might imagine (my memory, not the language, is certainly to blame).
I arrived late Thursday evening; Nate took me to a bar ('LIVE BAR') which was constructed entirely of reused material. Really: a Star-Wars kind of sliding door made of old sheet metal, a group urinal backed by a cascading waterfall, and walls covered with kitsch. To seal the deal, there was a massive stage with a grand piano and full complement of instruments. Thursday was an open stage - an middle-aged man with a steady vibrato sang, while a table of his friends guffawed and cheered him on. It was quite possibly the funkiest bar I've ever been in; on Queen Steet, pints would start at $10, I'm sure.
And, oh, the food. We've started our days with spicy, soybean paste soup (shared out of one communal bowl); for lunches: fried rice with vegetables. Dinner last night was a dinner of champions. Six side-dishes arrived at our restaurant table before any of the food we had actually ordered - kimchee, spicy cucumber, sesame leaf, mini-fish, seaweed and spicy onions. All delicious, and all eaten with the nicest set of chopsticks I've ever held. Apparently you really can't leave a Korean restaurant without being full.
Today, we're off to the southern point of the island ("Seogwipo"). Tomorrow is a highly-celebrated national holiday ("Chuseok"; Korean Thanksgiving), and so we'll get to eat two breakfasts and meet legions of merry folks.

airports

How lovely, this country named Korea. I haven't even left the airport, and I've already been inspired by the bathrooms (smelling faintly of saunas - in a good way), the landing strip (the tarmac surrounded by a mountain range), and the hi-tech (and free) internet lounge I'm currently sitting in.
Somehow, the 14-hour direct flight was entirely tolerable. Despite the disappointing movie options ("Miss Congeniality 2", "Hitch" and an old Star Trek episode), I sunk into my vacant row of three seats and started a fine novel ("Some Great Thing", by Colin McAdam) and listened to my latest acquisition for the ipod - a mesmorizing live album by Dan Penn and Spooner Oldham (see: the writers of 'Dark End of the Street' and 'Do Right Woman' to start with).
And I kid you not: I sat down in front of this computer, opened the browser, and a website (nate.com) instantly popped up. Why is this signifcant? Well, were it not for my friend Nate's forthcoming wedding on Jeju Island (my eventual destination in a few hours), I certainly wouldn't be here at all. What were the odds of a nate-dot-com website being the first for me to set eyes on during my first ever trip to Asia? Who can be sure, but it's certainly a good start.