Mel with Smell - The New Smelly Book Collection

Mel takes off for Bologna's International Children's Book Fair

In a week and a half, I should know whether the work we've done over the past two years has been worthwhile. By the work, I mean a labor of love: preparing eight (!) children's books, illustrations and all, for the children's book fair in Bologna. Together with our potential partners in the UK (The Smelly Book Company), we are having smells applied to each of the books in different parts of each story. The smells include good ones such as orange, chocolate, and grass, and less pleasant ones such as garlic, tuna fish, etc.

Will we succeed? I have no idea, but I sure hope so. Kids loved my previous children's stories (Bacteria Galore by Sunday at Four, and The Talking Toothbrush). I have been working with another outstanding illustrator (Rotem Omri) and we have edited each story carefully. Three of the stories comprise the Dr. Cluck series, three titles are about tooth fairies, one is about a dragon who falls in love with ice cream, and the final one is a secret (you have to read it).

Our original idea was to create a website that would bring the stories to children around the world (for free, of course). That website, http://www.meltells.com/ is up and running, with pages that flip, books that fly, narration and song, the whole nine yards. The dream of turning these colorful e-books into real books started about a year ago when a new British company, specializing in adding odours to books, suggested that we join forces.

So if you are attending the Bologna Children's Book Fair, please follow your nose to my smellicious books. Come say hello. Put in an order to buy a few (thousand). At least tell me what you think.

Wish me lot's of luck. It's my first children's book fair. Let's hope it's the first of many.

Mel's SOLD OUT performance at Tel Aviv Jazz Festival, February 2009

Mel's Sold Out Performance at the Tel Aviv Jazz Festival

Read on to find out what preparation went into it and more details...

Last year, I approached Nitzan Kremer, jazz guru and organizer of international jazz festivals around the world. I wanted to know how one moves up the ladder from being a jazz entertainer to a jazz musician. Three times in the past he had invited me to perform at the Tel Aviv Jazz Festival in the foyer, between the main shows. Playing in the foyer is somewhat an honor in and of itself, as few bands are selected to perform each year.

My first time, back in 1993, I performed with the great singer Dalia Spiegel, the second time with the lovely Marion Ross, and last year, with a hot club trio. These were all challenging performances and lots of fun, but nobody needed to purchase a ticket to hear us play. The big step up for me would be performing at a main event in front of a paying audience.

This year, my trio and I were indeed chosen to play the festival, this time inside an auditorium. The theme was a tribute to Chet Baker, iconic trumpeter and singer revered by many jazz fans for over half a century. I have been mad about Chet ever since my friend Eli Marcus introduced me to his music over twenty years ago.

To do a proper Chet Baker evening, you need that cool trumpet. Two years ago, I was introduced to and teamed up with the amazing trumpet player, Evgeny Verisotsky who is also mad about Chet. Evgeny also shines on my recent CD ("The Essential Mel").

The next step was choosing the song list. Nitzan helped me sort through over one hundred standards that Chet had made his own. Chet Baker had an amazing knack for choosing the very best songs of the era. As proof, witness how many of his choices are still jazz favorites today. Several of my favorite tunes didn't make the final cut. The song Chet is most associated with, "My Funny Valentine", was also excluded from the program. I didn't feel that we could do justice to it.

Two years ago I decided to return to play my first instrument, the piano. So naturally, I opted to play half the numbers in the show on the piano ("It Could Happen to You, Imagination, My One and Only Love, My Heart Stood Still and Everything Happens to Me"). This way, Evgeny would be center stage with his horn and I could join him with the sax later on in the show. The main problem for me was singing and playing piano at the same time (not all of us are Diana Krall or Nat King Cole). I boned up by going back to take piano lessons with the splendid teacher, Ittai Rosenbaum. I also spent a long time listening carefully to Russ Freeman, one of Chet's early (and best) pianists. For three of the numbers in the show I enlisted the excellent pianist Tamir Miller who I have worked with over the past decade. I also invited the amazing guitarist Ran Shinahr (who also fronts on my recent album) to join us for "Tenderly" and "I Remember You". Ran also joined in for the final number, so we had all six of us on stage for "There will never be another you". The band was rounded out by Oren Sagi, a great bass player, and Roy Oliel, who is not only a fine drummer, but an all round musician who directed the musical arrangements (how many drummers do you know who can play competent piano by ear?). Both Roy and Oren participated in the abovementioned CD.

Our Chet tribute sold out a week before the festival, in itself an auspicious sign. The night before our performance I went to hear a young talented singer, Yaala Balin, perform in the same hall. The venue was great, a compact auditorium which enables the intimacy that is almost impossible in a large hall. I rested the morning of the day of the show itself. In the afternoon, I had to take one of the saxes for a last minute repair.

I was plenty nervous before the performance. We had eight rehearsals under our belt, but I was still worried that I would lose my poise, my nerve, make mistakes on the piano, go flat on the sax or singing. There are enough things that can go wrong. Also, it being a jazz festival, I knew that there would be some critics and 'jazz police' in the audience. Did we have the 'right stuff'? My mind wandered back half a century to the piano concerts I participated in as a child. Those performances had me apoplectic with fear for months in advance. Indeed at the beginning of the show I was just a bit hesitant, especially on piano. But as the set progressed, the band loosened up, and we started achieving the kind of intimacy with the audience that was Chet's hallmark. On one of his albums, Chet had sung a favorite Rogers and Hart standard, "Blue Room", a capella. The song was not officially on the program, but I had planned to sing it solo like Chet if I felt up to it. I did. After the first barof the song, the sound man caught on and turned up the reverb. It went over well, and for me was one of the highlights of the show.

Nitzan was very satisfied with the performance, and except for a couple of minor glitches (coming in together with Ran on the solo), we were happy campers as well. The reviews and feedback from the audience and organizers was positive. Where do we go from here? Hopefully we will be able to take the Chet tribute to other venues. I may go back to appearing with a female vocalist. How about some jazz for kids? Maybe even a tribute to the phenomenal Duke Ellington? In the meantime, to quote Ira Gershwin, I'm biding my time.

Photos taken by Daniel F. Andresen

London Magic - November 2008 Theater, music, meetings and more...

Blog from London Town

Although the news on the television is grim concerning the UK fiscal situation, you'd never know it on Oxford Street here in London. Streets are packed with November shoppers, even though there are no good sales on (I wonder how many of the shoppers are Europeans coming over to take advantage of the low pound). And even though the weather here has been inclement, the pre-Christmas shopping has not abated.

The weather has not prevented us from wandering around on foot, as we are wont to do when we are here in town. On Saturday we walked downtown through Mayfair. On the road, Shuli, my wife spotted a glove on the street among the autumn leaves (We saw another pair yesterday; apparently it is a regular occurrence). We spent a penny and a few pounds at Fortnum and Mason near Picadilly, where we had some of the bwst truffles money can buy, and bought a couple of fancy bar chocolates (more on those when I give them a try). Then, we bought half-price tickets for Avenue Q. I don’t know what the reviews have been like, but I really enjoyed the play. The idea of having muppet-like characters grow up into dysfunctional, jobless, thirty-something creatures is wonderful, and the musical numbers are cute as well. The best part perhaps is seeing the actors on stage with their puppets, making the same facial expressions and shtick. It often seems as if the puppets are real and the actors are mimicking them. Well worth seeing.

The previous night we saw Billy Elliot, a riveting play about miners, class struggle, and artistic aspirations of a young boy growing up in Newcastle. We went to see the play with my great friend Peter Jackets and his family. Even they had some trouble dissecting the Newcastle accent (we had more, hoi!). Nevertheless, it was a powerful play.

Sunday was a 274 bus ride to Camden town, a brief walk among the stalls (including a bagel stand, but I hesitated to try their wares), and then a long walk back towards town along the Regent Canal, one of London's best kept secrets. The trees are changing color, the fallen leaves float slowly down the canal, what can I tell you?

Last night was a wonderful reunion with my baby brother David (now 48, mind you) who over the course of a meteoric career has become one of the top ranked economists in North America. He is a very busy guy, and I see him only once every two years or so, so when it turned out we would be in London at the same time, it was cause for celebration. We celebrated my birthday by dining at Sheekey, a really nice fish restaurant in the theatre district. If you like fresh fish, go for the wild halibut, it was supreme (the mushy peas were awesome as well). Dave and I topped up the evening with a duet of a classic Hebrew love song of yearning and lament (below).

On Wednesday evening we had a reunion with David Arch, who heads up Blistex, the famous lip care company that has bought our two-phase mouthwash. You can still find it in every nook and cranny of Saturday,

On Nov. 14th I saw Leonard Cohen again. He looked very good and fit, considering it's been twenty-four years since we last spoke. The last time we met I told him that I wanted to be a musician. He told me that he wanted to be a scientist. A very lovely and unassuming man.

On Nov. 14th I saw Leonard Cohen again. This time, with some 15,000 other raving fans at the Arena stadium near Greenwich (it might technically be London, but it was still a 45 minute taxi ride back to Marble Arch). Three generations of enraptured Leonard-lovers.

What can I tell you? He blew us away with his lyrics, his music, an impeccable band of singers and musicians who played everything from harps and hammonds to steel guitars and mandolins. The horn player who was remarkable, tried his hand at everything: clarinet, bass clarinet, tenor sax (wonderful), ewi (electronic wind instrument) and harmonica (have I forgotten anything?).

On Nov. 14thI saw Leonard Cohen again. The man is a legend, a prophet. His songs are his liturgy, we pray along with him. Who by fire? Who by water? He closes his eyes; we are in his inner world, as he fastens our ankle to his stone.
Leonard sang almost all of 'our' songs and some of his splendid newer ones. He didn't forget to do "The Famous Blue Raincoat" (one of the many encores).

On Nov. 14th I saw Leonard Cohen again. Will we ever meet again? I'm glad that I met you, I'll never forget you, I'm glad that you lighted our way.

Rock on, Leonard Cohen.