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Relative
Harmony
BY DEVIN GRANT
Special to The Post and Courier
Click
here to go directly to Regina and Frank's section of the article.
When the Black Crowes
performed at The Plex on Tuesday, it marked the first time in
five years that the popular rock band visited Charleston.
Part of the reason
for the time lapse in Charleston gigs has to do with the fact
that the band went on hiatus in 2002. This was in part because
of the tumultuous relationship between brothers Chris and Rich
Robinson. Even with the Black Crowes back together, rumor has
it that Chris and Rich only see each other onstage, choosing to
stay well separated when not performing.
The pages of modern
music history are filled with bands that featured performers who
didn't get along with one another.
Some of the more interesting
stories seem to come when a band features two or more members
who are related, either by blood, or by marriage.
In the '60s, the Kinks
helped lay the groundwork for what would eventually become punk-rock
music more than a decade later. In the process, Kinks brothers
Ray and Dave Davies became famous for their frequent fisticuffs,
both on and off the stage.
The career of Don and
Phil Everly suffered from similar problems. The brothers actually
refused to work with one another for years, until they finally
buried the hatchet and reunited for a televised reunion show in
the '80s.
More recently, music
fans seemed to take great delight in following the exploits of
Noel and Liam Gallagher, the co-founders of the British band Oasis.
In the late '90s, it seemed that not a week went by without a
new tabloid report about the two quarreling with one another.
Married musical couples
have just as many problems as those related by blood. Sonny and
Cher made beautiful music together a quarter-century ago, at least
until things soured and they filed for divorce. Perhaps most infamous
was the marriage between Ike and Tina Turner. According to Tina's
autobiography, Ike was a control freak who would frequently beat
his wife for the slightest infraction. Tina finally left Ike,
and the rest of that story is rock-'n'-roll history.
Preview was considering these rock horror stories when it set
out to talk to some local men and women who shared two distinct
traits: They were related, either by marriage or biologically,
and they played together in a band.
Were we able to dig
up any dirt about these artists, all of whom must deal with their
sibling or spouse both on and offstage?
Not really, but we
did come away with some interesting insight into what it is like
to share your work with someone you know all too well.
HE
AIN'T HEAVY, HE'S MY BROTHER.
When Jump (formerly
Jump, Little Children) took to the stage at the Music Farm on
Saturday night, the crowd had a chance to see the latest performance
by what is arguably Charleston's best-known sibling duo.
It's no surprise that
Evan and Matt Bivins chose the performance path in life. The sons
of an actress mother and a banjo-enthusiast father, the Bivins
brothers were surrounded by artistic ability (one of their grandmothers
even played organ). Matt, the older of the pair by two years,
got into music first. Today, there really aren't many instruments
that Matt hasn't at least tinkered with. During Jump performances,
Matt's section of the stage is cluttered with everything from
a pink electric mandolin to an accordion, as well as a wide selection
of flutes, harmonicas and whistles.
Evan initially chose
a different path in the arts world, concentrating on drawing and
painting. Then, perhaps upon seeing how much fun Matt was having
in the earliest incarnation of Jump, Evan decided he would teach
himself to play the drums.
Sitting at a table
on the patio of Vickery's downtown last week, Evan talked about
his shift in artistic mediums. "I was able to focus and learn
pretty quickly," says Evan of his plunge into learning the
drums, "I just enjoyed it."
Matt, also present
for the interview, describes an event that occurred in 1993, when
Jump was still in its early years.
The Bivins brothers
had traveled to Charleston with their father, who was assisting
in the restoration of St. Michael's Church downtown. The idea
was for the brothers to earn enough money to move to Boston, where
Jump hoped to find work (the band had a decidedly Irish flavor
at the time).
"Evan was new
to the band," explains Matt, "and he was serious about
being in the band. He had even taught himself a song in Gaelic."
The pair would labor all day at the church, then spend their nights
playing at the now-defunct Chef & Clef on Market Street until
4 a.m.
During that time, Matt
admits that he was being particularly overbearing to his little
brother. Eventually, Evan grew tired of Matt's nagging, and he
confronted his brother about it.
"I basically told
him, 'Thanks for getting me in the band, but from now on we can't
be brothers,'" says Evan with a grin.
Thankfully, Matt got
the hint and any further strain to the relationship was avoided.
While Matt and Evan are close, the two don't fool themselves into
thinking that getting along is an effortless task. "We still
have the power to push each other's buttons," says Evan,
"but our bond is also closer than with the other band members."
Pursuing their own
respective projects outside of Jump also allows the Bivins brothers
time away from each other.
Evan performs in Biv,
a power pop band made up of three Jump members and other local
musicians. He also plays in a live karaoke band that brings its
own brand of party music to the area a couple of nights a week.
Matt is currently at
work on an ambitious project that is part-theater and part-musical
performance. "It starts as a rock band and becomes a rock
opera," explains Matt, who goes on to explain the project,
which is based on Sophocles' "Oedipus Rex" and is partly
inspired by John Cameron Mitchell's "Hedwig and the Angry
Inch." It sounds interesting, and Matt has obviously spent
considerable time mapping out the storyline.
Evan sits quietly listening
to his brother talk, but soon makes a crack about Matt's hair
after misinterpreting a reference Matt makes to the television
show "Buffy the Vampire Slayer." "You're going
to do your hair like Sarah Michelle Gellar?" laughs Evan.
"No," corrects
Matt, with mock annoyance in his voice, "like Spike (Buffy's
vampire boyfriend on the show)."
Like Evan said, the
pair can still push each other's buttons.
Evan and Matt seem
happy to have one another's company, although they don't make
a big deal about that fact.
"We've been through
so much, I can't imagine not having him around," says Evan,
but then he adds, "I know he's my brother, but I really don't
think about it."
As for Matt's advice
on playing in a band with your sibling, he says, "Do it.
It is so worth it. But you have to set your boundaries."
Matt and Evan perform
tonight, along with the rest of Jump, in Nashville, Tenn. Evan
can be found pounding the skins during "Metal Monday Karaoke"
at Cumberland's every Monday night.
TRAIN
OF BROTHERS
For brothers Ward and
Davis Buckheister, performing in the local band Sol Driven Train
is only the latest project that finds the siblings working together
in a music setting.
According to Ward,
the older of the brothers by two years, he and Davis began playing
together in the Laing Middle School band. Ward and Davis eventually
moved up to the Wando High School marching band, playing trombone
and tuba, respectively.
Sol Driven Train was
formed five years ago, and the Buckheister brothers combined their
brass skills with Ward's guitar playing and Davis' talents on
bass. Today, the band (which also features drummer Phill Eason,
percussionist Phillip Antman, guitarist Joel Timmons and saxophonist
Russell Clarke) enjoys a good local following
When asked about the
pros and cons of working in a band with his brother, Ward is pretty
direct with his answer.
"I can't think
of any cons really," explains Ward from the home he shares
with his brother and some other members of the band.
"We've always been really tight. Competition has always motivated
us, but it's not like it has ever pitted us against one another."
Unlike those unruly
Gallagher brothers of Oasis fame, Ward says that the biggest problem
he and his brother face is calling home from the road to explain
why they wouldn't be home for yet another holiday.
"There have been
some sheepish calls home to our mom about why we're not there
again on Easter," laughs Ward.
While any set of family
members will eventually have their differences, Ward reveals that
there are definite perks to having a sibling in the same band.
"I love it because we get along," says Ward, "We
always have. It's good, when you've written a new song or something
like that, to have someone whose opinion you can trust. We keep
each other straight."
Those interested in
seeing this display of sibling harmony can catch Sol Driven Train
every Sunday night in May at the Oceansong Cafe on the Isle of
Palms.
'I
GOT FLOWERS IN THE SPRING, I GOT YOU TO WEAR MY RING'
While
it appears that a little sibling rivalry can be overcome within
local bands, one has to wonder if the dynamics of an inter-band
relationship change when you replace the sibling scenario with
that of a husband and wife.
In
addition to making beautiful music together for quite sometime
as husband and wife, Frank and Regina Ruopoli have been performing
together in Vintage Velvet, a five-piece jazz combo that performs
covers of classic songs from the '30s, '40s and '50s, for just
over a year.
Vintage
Velvet consists of Regina (vocals), Frank (bass), Jeff Castle
(keyboards), Steve Coe (guitar) and Phill Eason (drums).
Like
Evan Bivins, Frank's first love was reserved for visual arts,
having graduated from Savannah College of Art & Design. Regina
was the music veteran of the couple, having spent a good part
of the '90s singing in the local band, Sunday Punch.
A
few years ago Frank picked up a bass guitar and began noodling
around on it. Encouraged by Regina, he began to play with friends
just for fun. The earliest version of what would become Vintage
Velvet was soon playing at friends' parties as more of a laugh
than anything else.
Sitting
in a booth at Avondale Station in West Ashley one evening last
week (what is it with musicians and Cuban food?), Regina reveals
that when Frank suggested the band get a bit more serious and
try and book some paying gigs, she was at first apprehensive.
"I
didn't want to mix business with romance," says Regina, "I'm
a perfectionist, and I was worried about being too hard on Frank."
Despite
her initial hesitations, Regina agreed to try playing out at a
few local bars and restaurants.
"While
I was apprehensive at first about the musical work carrying over
into our personal lives in a negative way," explains Regina,
"I'm actually very surprised at how rarely that happens.
Making music together is a very intimate thing."
Frank
agrees, adding, "Music is powerful. It gets you out of your
daily routine."
One
possible scenario that could interfere with the harmony between
married couples in a band is the presence of a flirtatious groupie.
While jazz combos don't have to fight off the admirers nearly
as often as a rock band might, the Ruopolis don't worry at all
about either having a wandering eye.
"The
jealousy factor can exist in bands, but we are pretty secure with
one another," says Frank. According to Regina, the best thing
about playing in a band with your spouse is the sense of togetherness.
"Making music is creating art together," she explains,
"It bonds you, it brings you closer."
Frank
also points out that Vintage Velvet would not be at the level
it currently was without the support and talent of the other band
members, several of whom have studied music in an academic setting.
"Those guys have encouraged me and taught me, and helped
Regina and I grow as a couple," says Frank. "Those guys
are almost like our brothers."
So
what is the worst thing about playing in a band together? For
Frank, it has to do with Regina's self-professed perfectionist
streak.
"I
like to experiment sometimes in rehearsal," says Frank while
smiling at his wife, "and I will do something different in
the middle of a song, and she will think that I missed a bass
note, and she'll shoot me a look."
If
that is all there is wrong with this musical marriage, then it
appears that the Ruopolis have very little to worry about. Vintage
Velvet performs most Wednesdays and Saturdays at Zinc Bistro &
Bar in Mount Pleasant, and also will be taking part in a benefit
for the Gibbes Museum of Art held at McCrady's on East Bay Street
on the evening of May 11.
A SYMPHONY OF LOVE
For another view on
spouses who perform together we decided to think a little bigger.
If you look at it from a certain perspective, the Charleston Symphony
Orchestra is really the biggest band in Charleston (I can hear
a few classical music purists fainting dead away at our description
of an orchestra as a "band," but once conductor David
Stahl has been given some smelling salts, all should be well.)
We decided to contact
the CSO to see if there were any married couples who performed
together in the orchestra. To our surprise, we were told that
there were actually several husband-and-wife teams that fit the
bill.
One of those spousal
units, Megan and James Holland, were nice enough to speak with
Preview on the phone from their home.
James, CSO's principal
cellist, has been with the symphony for nine seasons. Megan, the
CSO's principal second violin, has enjoyed four years in Charleston.
James and Megan have been married for just over a year and acknowledge
the abundance of married couples in the orchestra.
"As far as couples
who are both musicians, I can think of at least three besides
us," explains James. "There are quite a few. It's an
interesting phenomenon. When I joined (the CSO) back in 1996,
it was primarily just a young singles outfit. Everyone was kind
of on their own, coming in from various places." When asked
how they met, Megan explains, "Part of our job (outside of
the CSO) was playing in a string quartet, and so we spent a lot
of time together outside of work. Obviously we worked together
every day, but the quartet took up some time outside of work,
and we were spending lots and lots of time together. We started
dating soon after I got the job four years ago, and we've been
together ever since."
So, was James in any
way influential in getting Megan her gig with the CSO? "There's
a story I always like to tell everyone," says James. "When
we hire new musicians and we have auditions, we have an audition
committee made up of various players and the conductor. When it's
dealing with the string section, the principal cellist, which
is me, is involved on the committee. I was supposed to be on the
committee when we hired Megan, but I had to leave town all of
a sudden, so I wasn't on the committee that ended up hiring her.
So no one can accuse me of having rigged the audition (just) because
I thought that one of the contestants was cute. She won the job
fair and square."
When asked about the
good and bad things about playing in an orchestra with your significant
other, Megan states, "I can't come up with a really strong
con, because we don't really talk all the time in the orchestra.
We're just kind of across the stage (from one another), so we
show up to work, and if something funny happens, we'll make eye
contact. But I really can't think of anything bad about working
with my spouse in the orchestra. There are lost of good things.
I always have someone to go to lunch with."
James adds, "Sometimes
I think the pros and cons are one and the same. One of the really
nice things is the fact that what we do is not your everyday occupation.
Being married to someone who understands what you're doing and
why you're doing it, because they're doing it themselves, kind
of creates a nice rapport. Of course, every job has its joys and
its frustrations. We both have our pet peeves about things, but
we can share them and get them off our chests. At the same time,
we're both experiencing them as well." Having apparently
given the matter a bit more thought, Megan explains one slight
drawback to the situation.
"I have to say
the only downside to having a husband in the orchestra is that
maybe I have lost my individuality a little bit," explains
Megan, "We've become 'The Hollands,' and I've kind of become
'James' Wife.' That's something that I might like to see change.
But we're good otherwise."
The Hollands, along
with the rest of the CSO, will be participating in an interesting
experiment that combines symphonic music with the skills of local
filmmakers. On Tuesday, the CSO will present a free preview night
for its inaugural Symphonic Film Contest.
Local filmmakers have
the option of choosing from five different classical works, which
will serve as the inspiration for his or her film.
Contestants will submit
their final works in September, then in October the winners will
have their films shown during a performance of the classical pieces
by the CSO.
Tuesday's preview event,
which is free and open to the public, begins at 7 p.m. at the
Gaillard Auditorium.
GOT
DIRT?
OK, so we found no
evidence of severe alienation, lack of matrimonial bliss, or rampant
abuse of older sibling privilege.
Are we disappointed
that we couldn't dig up any dirt? A little, but at the same time
we have to admit that it is good to see these acts, as well as
local bands both past (Children's Choir, The Creations, The Futch
Brothers) and present (The Falls Lost, Hot Sauce, Nu Myth, Blue
Fedora), existing in relative harmony.
The
Gallagher brothers from Oasis might do well to stop and take a
few notes, but chances are, they're engaged in a drunken brawl
somewhere.
Devin
Grant plays a mean QWERTY keyboard. He can be contacted at Chucktowncritic@yahoo.com
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