Armchair Ornithology

I find the beauty of birds irresistible. I want to draw them, study them, collect books about them and, in certain cases, collect particular specimens themselves. At the moment, the avian I want to collect is Andrew Bird. Or, perhaps more specifically, his music.*

My introduction to Andrew Bird was a promotional flyer featuring the back of his head, covered by a mop of brown hair, juxtaposed with the exotically plumed heads of tropical birds, again from the back. The flyer announced a performance, but the nature of that performance was undefined. I had no idea who Mr. Bird was or what he did. I only knew I would like it.

Due to my failure to investigate this alluring mystery, I didn't actually hear his music until over a year later, while housesitting for a friend. A woman of diverse and sophisticated musical taste, she had Armchair Apocrypha and I eagerly popped it into the sound system. What came out was delicious—a peculiar and original combination of verbal virtuosity, evocative rhythm, layered melody, violin, glockenspiel, guitar, musical samplings and whistling.

This past month, it occurred to me to check if perhaps he would be performing in Atlanta again. Very unusual for me, as I don't seek out live music. I found that yes, he would be. Very soon. And the show was sold out. I contacted friends with connections and actually considered standing outside the venue the night of the show to see if anyone was selling tickets . . . I really wanted to see that show. I concentrated my energy; I had a feeling it just might happen, although I had no idea how it possibly could. And then, two days before, my friend emailed me. She had two tickets and had decided to ask ME if I wanted to attend the show. I'm sure you can imagine my answer.

In honor of Mr. Bird, I wore a pair of j. crew jeans, lavishly embroidered with chrysanthemums and, naturally, birds. Mr. Bird himself wore a brown jacket with a teal glen plaid, along with a red tie. The richness and layered delicacy of his music was even more wonderful in person. I wanted to open my eyes to watch him perform, to close them and bathe in the nuances of the aural magic.

It’s hard to pick just one of his compositions to share with you, but Imitosis is a favorite—and it pleases me that the carapace of one of the insects is created from a vintage rhinestone button identical to one I inherited. {It’s the circular rhinestone one with the gold border}.








*Although I would certainly welcome Mr. Bird himself as a most delightful ornament to my nest.