Recording Off the Beaten Path in Bridgeport

Janet Reynolds — Mon, 06 Nov 2017 08:48:22 +0000

Tarquin Studios’ Peter Katis helps everyone from Trey Anastasio to Dispatch and Mates of State find perfection on their albums.

Peter Katis got his start doing karaoke. Well, not really. Katis is a world-class record producer, engineer, mixer and part owner of Tarquin Studios in Bridgeport, Connecticut. One of Katis’s first gigs was working in a studio in New York City that did high-end karaoke instrumental tracks. It was a crash course in quickly replicating the sounds, textures, and effects of hit recordings. Katis already had loads of experience as a musician (he’s in a band called The Philistines Jr.) and as a recording engineer, but the karaoke job gave Katis some of the skills required to work fast, under the sometimes heavy pressure of deadlines and pay-by-the-hour logistics. He worked with some world-class musicians—like Larry Campbell, who went on to be a member of Bob Dylan’s band for years.

“It was a weird combination of really talented people making terrible music,” says Katis.

Aside from that stint churning out karaoke tracks, Katis came by his talent in the recording studio by being the person in his bands who was good at setting songs to tape, tinkering with microphones, adjusting levels, tweaking the compression and effects, getting a good take, knowing when that extra time through the chorus needed to be weeded out, etc. Not everyone—even the most talented musicians—has a set of ears that can do all that. “My favorite part of being a musician was producing a record,” says Katis.

Since then, Katis and Tarquin have helped give the world some verifiably great music by artists such as The National, Interpol, Jonsi, Kurt Vile, Trey Anastasio, Guster, Dispatch, Mates of State, and many more.

Tarquin Studios is a perfectly Connecticut answer to the challenge of recording in the digital age. Katis had started assembling a studio in his parents’ basement in the early ’90s, but he soon realized that he needed a devoted space. So he bought the 7,000-square-foot three-story Victorian in 1998, slowly transforming it into a destination for indie rock bands—and others—looking to carve out a distinctive sound. The Bridgeport location gives artists easy access to New York City (about 65 miles away), but also just enough of a buffer from the lures of the big city to allow for the intense focus required in a recording session, without the immediate distractions of Manhattan or Brooklyn outside the door.

But what makes Tarquin a destination spot for artists is that it’s a fully outfitted studio that’s also fully outfitted as a place to stay, to sleep and cook and hang out. Think of it as a little like a big B&B for rock stars. “I had that idea kind of early on,” says Katis. “Now it’s sort of much more common.”

Artists can move in for a few days, or a week, or a month, and with all of the instruments and recording gear around (there are essentially two studios on the premises, and a third one for sketching out idea), if an idea strikes at 2 in the morning, the creative flow can keep flowing. (Katis, who is married and has a child, however, tries to work regular hours, from noon to 8 p.m., so he wouldn’t be the one documenting those crack-of-dawn flashes of inspiration.)

Musicians don’t just want a room to kick around and document ideas in, they want some cool gear to mess with. At Tarquin there’s a ton of sick noise-making gadgetry on hand, including, just randomly: a Hammond B-3 organ, Fender Rhodes electric piano, Farfisas, an upright piano, a Gibson Les Paul, a Fender Telecaster, a Rickenbacker, Sunn cabinets, Marshall stacks, Ampeg bass amps, a theremin, Moog synths, and all kinds of other things, such as accordions, glockenspiels, and more. Plus mics, effects, pre-amps, compressors, analog tape decks and mixing boards, and lists of serious tech-head stuff that would make your head spin. (Don’t forget the Leslie cabinet that actually does spin.) Artistic frustrations can be worked off on vintage video games and pinball machines.

Katis and his family used to live in one half of the house, but a few years ago he and his wife and child moved to neighboring Fairfield, so now Tarquin is a full-on palace of sonic perfection. The move away, separating his home from his workplace, has added a degree of sanity to Katis’s life, instituting more non-rock-star hours and requiring some needed distance from any given recording project. “I am a workaholic,” he says.

If you’ve never been to a recording session, it’s easy to imagine it as exciting. But few things are more excruciatingly boring to the layperson. Listening to a song, or snippets of a song, or the particular isolated clang of a crash cymbal over, and over, and over, is a sure way of deromanticizing the process of recording music. This is one reason that Katis likes to split his creative time at Tarquin between recording tracks there and mixing tracks that artists have recorded elsewhere. “Although I love doing music,” he says, “making it is misery; finishing it is nice.”

Peter Katis–record producer/engineer, Tarquin Studios
Bridgeport, Connecticut
Website

Top image: Peter Katis. All photos courtesy of Peter Katis.

The post Recording Off the Beaten Path in Bridgeport appeared first on Take Magazine.

Singing the Writing Life in Vermont

Janet Reynolds — Mon, 27 Mar 2017 07:00:43 +0000

Cricket Blue is a Burlington, Vermont acoustic duo whose music has literary leanings. Have a little Ovid with your tunes.

The connection between song and literature is a long and complicated one. Look to Bob Dylan’s winning of the Nobel Prize and all the hand-wringing and chin-stroking that prompted. Many say that literature sprang from song—that rhyme, melody, and meter allowed the first bards to flesh out their material into longer forms. Cricket Blue, an acoustic folk duo from Burlington, Vermont, explore that place where literature, short stories, folk tales, mythology, poetry, and song all swirl together.

I spoke to the two—Laura Heaberlin, 27, and Taylor Smith, 26—by phone from their home recently. Heaberlin had just finished her shift working at a local bookstore. “I’ve got both feet in dying industries,” said Heaberlin with a laugh, referencing my comment about book selling and music making in the age of streaming and online sales.

Both Heaberlin and Smith studied literature in college. The literary bent of their material can be seen from the titles alone. The duo’s most recent EP is called Io, which you might remember from reading Ovid’s Metamorphoses, and there’s a song called “Angela Carter,” which is what Heaberlin calls a tribute to the style of the English author of novels that are like graphic feminist fairy tales at their core. Another song features a reference to Niobe, another tragic figure from Greek mythology.

The duo took shape after Heaberlin and Smith had shared some bills together as solo artists. Sometimes they’d do a couple tunes together, work on a cover, or practice an arrangement to stretch out their time on stage. “There were all these two-hour slots to fill and neither of us had that much music or stamina,” says Smith. The sessions made them realize that they liked playing and singing together more than being separate solo acts. Both Heaberlin and Smith write. They each harmonize on the other’s songs.

They do a lot of shows around the Northeast, heading out from their Burlington home base and fitting all their equipment into a Prius.

Like the myths and stories that Cricket Blue draw on for inspiration, the duo’s songs have a vaguely old familiar sound to them, but with unexpected turns and twists. It’s folk music in the sense that it is acoustic music, with stories that draw on a tradition, but it’s not the Carter Family. For one thing, Cricket Blue doesn’t seem to be especially fond of repeating choruses and refrains. Both songwriters convey the sense that they’d prefer to wedge more lyrical details into a song instead of spending valuable time going over words that have already been covered.

“I feel like if you’ve already said something, and you can potentially say something new, why say the same thing again?” asks Heaberlin, posing a question that many poetically inclined songwriters have asked themselves before.

Smith echoes the sentiment: “If left to my druthers, I’d have tons and tons of lyrics with no chorus.”

If many songwriters in their 20s find the experience of making their way in the world, navigating adulthood, relationships, work, independence, and the emotional and psychic ruffles that come with that to provide sufficient depths of feeling to mine for songwriting purposes, Heaberlin says that she tends to focus on narratives and characters outside herself for their songs.

“You can only really write so many songs about your life,” she says, “especially when nothing really changes in your life.”

Laura Heaberlin and Taylor Smith – Cricket Blue, Acoustic Duo
Burlington, VT
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Top photo by Sue Bibeau

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