
More Honor Killings Taxi Campaign Rolling Out NYC, Boston, DC
Jonathan Perry,
The applause for Turkuaz, a white-hot Berklee funk band, had barely died down inside Cafe 939 when its singers, Shane Allen, an 18-year-old freshman, and Jennifer Hirsh, a 21-year-old senior, found themselves beaming (in matching gold lamè) on Boylston Street.
“Honestly, it's about time," said Hirsh, a music business major, of Cafe 939, the mostly student-run, all-ages music venue and coffeehouse that opened at 939 Boylston St. in December and launched its live music program this month. "I've been here for four years and they've really needed a venue like this. The [Berklee]
Allen, a voice student from
And so they are - "they" being 15 Berklee work-study students plus event manager Jacqueline Indrisano and engineer Lauren Caso, a Berklee graduate who handled light and sound for the likes of Aerosmith and the Who during the eight years she worked for promoter Don Law.
Most of this month's shows at the club - where everything from booking bands to working the box office is handled by the students - have sold out quickly. Programming, which has included a mix of internationally known artists such as jazz saxophonist Miguel Zenón (a Berklee alum) as well as Berklee undergraduate groups like Turkuaz, runs Wednesdays through Sundays between 8 p.m. and 11 p.m. Meanwhile, "The New Brew," a free lunchtime concert series showcasing student performers, runs Tuesdays and Thursdays from 1-2 p.m.
"This is the space everyone's been waiting for," said event coordinator Sarah DeMatos, a 22-year-old aspiring singer from Mattapoisett. "You can [be under] 21 and still feel welcome here and get the club experience. We're trying to bring awesome music to anybody with open ears."
Tonight,
Indrisano, a veteran of
"I'm the luckiest girl on earth," said Indrisano. "I've been to so many shows in the city and nothing aggravates me more [than] when I'm trying to listen and people are turning their backs on the show and starting their own party, and not even paying attention to the band. Here the music is the show and not the cocktails."
Berklee president Roger H. Brown is impressed with how students have run both the Cafe 939 club and the coffeehouse attached to the venue. "I'm in love with it so I'm a little irrational," said Brown, who regularly drops by the cafe. "The dream now is to get great [musicians] in here to do clinics and workshops. If we play our cards right, maybe on a night they don't have a show, they'll come over."
Too often, said Brown, "the star musician is in this hermetic bubble and goes back to the Ritz after their concert. Maybe we can get them to swing by here instead, and do a short set."
Czadzeck believes a crucial component of Cafe 939's success boils down to that old axiom: location, location, location. "There's lots of nightlife around here but there's no live entertainment, music or otherwise," said Czadzeck.
"So, in addition to us being the only all-ages club in the city, even if you are over 21, you can come here, see an early show, and still go out on the town. With the foot traffic outside, people see the party going on inside and want to come check it out."
Indeed, on the balmy spring evening that Turkuaz performed, the sleek but warm red-walled room filled up fast. No one bothered sitting on the couches that lined a wall of windows looking out onto
By the time Turkuaz tore into an exuberant, radically reworked version of the Beatles' "We Can Work It Out" - sounding like Chic crossed with the Average White Band - the dance floor had become one massive groove, rippling with energy and smiles.
"It's a shame," said Lily O'Brien, a senior music business major, "that we have to graduate."
Pope Meets Abuse Victims from
Michael Paulson, Boston.com
The 25-minute gathering, in a small chapel at the Embassy Row mansion that is the home of the pope's US ambassador, came toward the close of the third straight day that the 81-year-old pontiff, on his first visit to the United States, spoke out about the sexual abuse crisis that has roiled the Catholic Church in this country.
The private session, described last night by several people who were present, was punctuated by frequent emotion. Many of the participants cried. They all prayed. And one by one, each of the victims spoke alone with the pope, holding his hands, whispering in his ears, and telling him their stories of wounded bodies and broken faith.
Cardinal Sean P. O'Malley, who pushed for the meeting after the pope decided not to include Bos ton in his US itinerary, gave the pope an oversize hand-sewn book made of color-washed paper in which a calligrapher had written the names of nearly 1,500 men and women from the Boston area who have reported being sexually abused by priests over the last six decades.
"I asked him to forgive me for hating his church and hating him," said Olan Horne, 48, of Lowell, who gave the pope a picture of himself as a 9-year-old boy, just before the Rev. Joseph E. Birmingham started molesting him. "He said, 'My English isn't good, but I want you to know that I can understand you, and I think I can understand your sorrow.' "
The meeting between a pope and abuse victims, which was first reported yesterday by the Globe on Boston.com and later confirmed by the Vatican, is a historic development, not only in the three-year-old pontificate of Benedict, but also in the clergy sexual abuse crisis that has roiled the Catholic Church since 2002, when the Globe began publishing a series of stories about the church's handling of abuse by priests. Immediately after yesterday's meeting, the tone of the reaction to Benedict began to shift.
"It certainly feels good to know that the leader of our church finally has acknowledged responsibility in such a personal way," said James E. Post, a former president of Voice of the Faithful, an organization headquartered in