Graz Austria: 2003 Cultural Capital of Europe

Posted on 07/16/03 in Life - Comments Off on Graz Austria: 2003 Cultural Capital of Europe

A very inspirational trip

This is the year that Graz was named the Cultural Capital of Europe. We were given the opportunity to be American Cultural Delegates of sorts. What follows is my personal recounting of the time spent in this remarkable little city with Eric, his wife Hilary and a multitude of new friends.

A very inspirational trip

Day 1 – July 1, 2003

First a little background
Ya-Ne-Zniyoo singer Eric Schmitz has been a friend of Norbert Wally of the Austrian band The Base since college. They’ve written and performed together on many occasions in the past decade or so. Eric and I have been working together for just over 9 years now. Right from the beginning we’ve been trying to get Ya-Ne-Zniyoo over to Austria for a series of shows. Due to the usual band and life bullshit, it never came to be.

This all began to change in May of 2002. Following the official departure of the Ya-Ne-Zniyoo rhythm section, Eric and I began to perform almost exclusively acoustic around the NYC area. Norbert came to the US for a visit and played with us at an unplugged gig in Hoboken NJ. Afterwards, talks began again about us going to Austria. This time, Norbert did a very good job at convincing us that we did not need the band.

So why 2003? Because it is the year that Graz was named the Cultural Capital of Europe. We were given the opportunity to be American Cultural Delegates of sorts.

What follows is my personal recounting of the time spent in this remarkable little city with Eric, his wife Hilary and a multitude of new friends.

Use the calandar below to read my daily ramblings.

Getting to London
Up at the crack of dawn and on our way to Newark airport. Our friend Kiley drove us. We were all feeling an ecstasy brought about by a lack of sleep and butterflies. This was my first trip off the rock of North America. I didn’t know what to expect from London or Graz, but I was eager to find out.

The flight on British Air went well and the complimentary booze was a nice touch. As were the countless movie and TV choices. This all gave me a chance to relax a little.

Clouds over London

Eric naps, Hilary daydreams

Already pretty beat from traveling, we managed our way to the underground heading to our first gig. With our 6 large pieces of luggage, we’re thankful that the train is empty as we pull away from Heathrow. This would change the closer we got to the city. Sardines have it easier than us as we had to practically stand on our luggage to make room for more passengers. Luckily a group of about 10 friendly night revelers happened to be getting off at the same stop and helped to clear a path for us to exit.

We clumsily made our way up and down countless escalators and stairways to the next train. Then up and down countless more escalators and stairways to the cool night air on our way to our hotel. We only had about a half hour to relax before the gig, but it felt real good to just sit and breathe.

We watched a bit of the BBC. Apparently London is following California and New Yorks cue and trying to ban smoking in bars. I’m telling you, we are just centimeters away from all out prohibition. Let’s tread lightly along this path of "government knows best" we seem to be on lately.

Troy Bar, Hoxton Square


Yep, that’s really us … Too many mirrors to use a flash. [h.gilles]

Troy Bar (10 Hoxton Street London UK) is hot joint right down to the red walls, dimmed lighting and the soulful vibe in the room. I felt a bit overwhelmed and somewhat intimidated by the level of talent. This is a hardcore jazz crowd and here come Eric and I to do our brand of NYC folk rock.

[travelerguitar.com]

I noticed people seemed both perplexed and amused by my little Traveler Guitar. So I said, "Never, ever wash your guitar in hot water." With the crowds laughter, we started to play. My anxiety soon was replaced with joy as they sang along with our tune Razor Dog and welcomed us with smiles.

The bartender liked us because, according to her and others, no one in London tips. This is inconceavable for us New Yorkers. So we tipped. That’s just how we do things. This makes for friendlier service and stronger drinks.

One patron named Lee (singer for the band Smooth Motherfunkahs) summed up the night for me, "We got a guy rapping about a girl’s clit, a big white dude tearing up some jazz standards, a sister singing ghetto blues and 2 guys from NY doing folk rock."

Troy Bar reminds me of a recent trend of quality open mic style places popping up in the NYC area. The Rodeo-Ristra (Hoboken) Sidewalk Cafe (NYC) and Sway (NYC) come to mind.

We stayed until the place closed at 12:30 and it was on to the next bar. We were too high from the experience to just go back to the hotel. Thanks to Eddie and everyone at Troy Bar for allowing us to perform. It was truly a blast.

Oh, by the way … for those who are convinced that England is super expensive and closes early, you should stay in the Hoxton Square (or Old City) area. 3 pints for £8.50 ($12.30) and we found a bar called Traffik that was open past 2:00. Not super late, but better than the 11:00 closing time of many UK bars. Oh … and the hotel was only £89.00 ($129.00) for the night. Compared to NYC, that ain’t too shabby

Traffik, Hoxton Square

Got this image from a web site. Forgot to take a picture of the place. One too many pints I guess

Traffik is a modern looking place with a neighborly feel. The picture to the left doesn’t do it justice. There was some very cool art hanging on the walls including several portraits of Ronnie Lane and Small Faces and a large, brightly-colored abstract piece.

We met a lovely young woman named Gemma who, after we seemed to scare off her friends, decided to stay and chat with us. We told them that we worked for the CIA and had been following them all day. When pressed for details, I explained that the world knows how inaccurate the US intelligence is, so it would be best if I did not reveal any details. Scary how this conversation took place long before the Iraq/Africa Uranium debacle was revealed to the world.

"If you work for the CIA then surely you know what color panties I’m wearing," said one girl. "Well," I replied, "We cannot be 100% sure of the color, but we do know that you are indeed wearing panties." I was hoping to have a chance to actually check out the accuracy of my claim, but she and her gentleman friend decided to leave at that point. "There off to do it in the square," proclaimed Gemma.

Anyway, Gemma wanted to buy a CD. All she had was a £10.00 note from Northern Ireland, which of course is perfectly legal tender anywhere in the UK. However, she proceeded to tell us of her unfortunate inability to spend the note here in London. Cabs, bars, stores … none would take it. Sure she could have just cashed it in for an English or Scottish note, but it was the principal of the thing. Was this just typical anti-Irish sentiment? Who knows? The stipulation of the CD sale was that, because of her ordeal, I would keep the note and frame it as a souvenir. And so I did. The irony is that, at the time, she was employed at an Anglo-Irish bank.