I'm pleased to announce that, after 10 years (and 2 variations on the theme) of a recurring concert series at The Mainstay, I ain't done yet. I've accepted 6 dates of (personal) insanity in 2026, to continue presenting a guest artist-focused series of collaborative shows. And this first one will be special, indeed.

In recent years, thanks to my friend Sharon Sable, I've become acquainted with a number of Wilmington, DE based musicians, among them, Gus Mercante, a wonderful countertenor from the classical world. It has been a few years since I first had the inspiration to curate a show that features Gus, alongside Lester Barrett, and am delighted that it can finally happen. Lester is also a countertenor, and a local legend in Kent County, MD (where the Mainstay is located), coming from the gospel and (broadly speaking) soul worlds. 

A recurring theme in my Mainstay shows has been to bring musicians together whose paths would likely never intersect otherwise. This can create a unique one-of-a-kind experience for both the performers and the audience. There have been other occasions that I've integrated the classical and non-classical worlds on stage at the Mainstay. In 2017, I invited Celine Mogielnicki, a featured soloist for Chestertown's National Music Festival, to join me to  discover what common ground we could find (we ended up presenting a collaborative Mainstay Monday show for 3 consecutive years). In 2019, I invited both members of the classical music piano faculty at Washington College to join me, playing jazz/classical mash-ups with Matt Brower, and performing the (entire) original 2 piano score for Rhapsody in Blue with Woobin Park (I lost my mind with that one, which is also a recurring theme). More recently, I invited area classical pianist Stephanie Lamott to join me for a holding hands across the (perceived) divide First Friday show. And now this one, on 2/20/26, "The Clash of the Countertenors", where I get to accompany a broad variety of music across the stylistic spectrum. 

For reasons beyond anyone's control, this show had to wait until now. Which, honestly, is one of the reasons I'm glad I can still have a series at the Mainstay. I'm grateful that this show can finally happen. I hope you can join us, at least for the livestream, if not in person. 

I had an encounter with some clarity today as I pondered my artistic (and life) path, and in particular, how I express myself through it. Of all of the pieces of the puzzle to consider, goals to attain, objectives to meet, what is it that I am seeking in my personal musical expression? Of course, I want to be open, in the space, and without agenda. These realizations have settled deeply within me over the last couple of decades. But a window opened up a little in my heart today, enough to let a breeze blow in and rearrange the furniture a bit. And it brought me to recall a conversation with Bruce Kaminsky; a bassist who, in a earlier season of life, I shared many a musical engagement, conjoined with many meaningful conversations. Back then my windows to the deeper expression didn't open as frequently, or easily (especially when I was trying). But when they did, it was obvious to those around me, or at least the musicians I was playing with. Bruce made the observation that when I would begin assertively quoting as I improvised, that would signal the expression deepening. This conversation was many years ago, and I'm sure he said it better than I can restate it. But when he said it, I knew he was on to something. It's been many years since I have seen Bruce, and I'm sure he would have no thought of how this observation has stuck. Today, as I was considering the different objectives jazz musicians (in particular) have when they perform, it came to me. What do I want? I want to be surprised by what I play. That's it. For me, this may be more about rhythmic and/or melodic adventurism than harmonic explorations. But whatever it is, when I am in the moment, I'm just as surprised as anyone who is listening to me with what comes out. And this isn't by accident. Only just now have I realized that what Bruce said was one of the seeds from which grew the learning to let go in order to receive. A lot has happened over those many years. I think it's time to reach out to Bruce and say thank you. If we ever play do a gig together again, it's easy to imagine that he'd be smiling.