Remembering Pamela Espeland

Incomprehensible that Pamela Espeland is no longer with us. 

My encounters with her were few and far between, though over the years I got to know her fairly well. I met her at a book awards ceremony at the Minnesota Humanities Center in St. Paul, where we were seated at the same table. It may have been 2006, she was still with Free Spirit Publishing at the time. That summer we found ourselves attending the same Writers' Union meetings in Linden Hills. On one occasion, the subject under discussion was arts reviewing. Hilary and I had recently been to the Dakota to hear a set in which tenor saxophonist David Murray and two accomplices succeeded in jamming for an hour while avoiding a single musical reference to one another, and I expressed frustration that you could read an entire jazz review without finding out what kind of jazz was going to be performed.

"Well, David Murrray is still a great tenor saxophonist," came a voice from the other side of the room. It was Pamela.

As art-lovers and friends have invariably mentioned in tributes following her sudden death, Pamela and her husband, John Whiting, went to many concerts, readings, gallery openings, and plays in the course of a week. Sometimes three in a single evening. A few years ago we ran into her at Plymouth Congregational Church, where poet Louis Jenkins was reading from his last collection, Where Your House Is Now. The next night, there they were again, at the grand opening of a South Indian fabric studio loft in Northeast Minneapolis.

"How do you know Anita?..." "What drew you to this event?" And so on.

Loaded with accumulated expertise, both local and international, she graciously highlighted the best upcoming events in her weekly MinnPost Artscape column. 

During the pandemic, of course, there wasn't as much going on, no one got out so much, either. Hilary and I watched a variety of performances on-line— jazz, classical, theatrical. On one occasion we tuned in to a live show at Crooners given by jazz singer Kurt Elling that was also available for streaming, and were impressed by the emotional intensity of the performance. Was Elling always this wired up, expressive? Or were we witnessing a rare explosion of energy following the lockdown?

I knew Pamela was a big Elling fan, so I sent her a note. A few days later I got a reply that will give you some idea of her knowledge, enthusiasm, and eagerness to help others enjoy the things she enjoyed. The last few lines are almost unbearably poignant.    

Hi John,

Good to hear from you.

I thought Friday’s show was one of the best I’ve seen from Kurt, and I’ve probably seen him 20-30 times (because he never does the same show twice). That he started with a 20-minute improvised scat-a-thon was astonishing. He let us know he was going to do his show, his way.

We happened to be sitting in front of the sound board, where his manager was hanging out. More than once, I heard his manager sound surprised by what Kurt was up to on stage.

Kurt has been a road warrior for years, performing 300+ shows every year. I’m sure the pandemic and being stuck at home were hard on him. Midway through the pandemic, he and his family moved back to Chicago from New York. Early in the pandemic, he started a “Cocktails with Kurt” weekly livestream that kept him in touch with his audience (and made them aware of his politics, many for the first time). He followed that with a virtual tour - six weeks of concerts in a row - that you could subscribe to and get a T-shirt.

When he returned to Chicago, he immediately started streaming live performances from the Green Mill and also from his porch. Because he has spent a lifetime building relationships with audiences all over the world, people all over the world tuned into his livestreams. For at least one concert, unless I misheard this, he had 130,000 viewers. Thousands were watching Saturday’s livestream. If you were watching on CrowdCast, its counter told only a small part of the story.

His last two studio albums, “The Questions” (2018) and “Secrets Are the Best Stories” (2020), were both swallowed by the pandemic. Even though “Secrets” won a Grammy, I’m not sure how well it did. His next album comes out this fall - funk and dance music with Charlie Hunter.

All of the above is a circuitous route to answering your question. Yes, emotion and inventiveness are typical of his shows. He sings what he wants. He writes his own lyrics to instrumental tracks. He’s an expressive guy who loves what he does and thrives on the connection he makes with his audience. And his voice! I’ve never heard him sing such low notes and jump so many octaves, finally ending with falsetto.

And I’m sure he could not wait to get back on the road. This is true for a lot of the great ones. Fred Hersch has also hit the ground running.

I’m glad you heard him, and glad you felt him. I’ve been to several events over the past few weeks (a surprising number, all things considered) and this was the first one that grabbed me.

All best, and good for us! We’re still here.

P.