When You’re Living on Mars
You Can Miss the Man in the Moon:
One of the things about living on Mars is that you can keep the noise of civilization and its discontents at a distance. The down side of this luxury is that you can miss something unique and extraordinary―like Benjamin Scheuer, for instance.
Blissfully unaware that he had co-opted the public arena for quite a while, toured widely in a one-man show, released CDs, music videos, books and articles, appeared on Charlie Rose and been praised enthusiastically in all the right places (http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2016/06/02/an-artist-takes-on-cancer/), I had never heard his name. Yet my good instincts kicked in when his new album (Songs From THE LION) was described in a press release. Something about its unusual warmth (could the writer actually believe what (s)he was writing?) and unusual content (Scheuer has had what the Chinese call an” interesting life” marked by serious illness and loss) caught my attention. So I checked out a link within.
He had me at frame one, measure one, and wouldn’t let go:
More, the press material included a rave by Mary Chapin Carpenter, describing his appearance as part of her UK tour at the Royal Albert Hall in London. That, dear readers, is huge—really huge. How could a lone singer and his guitars connect with listeners in its 8,000 places? Because he’s a world-class connector who can turn that space into your living room. Because his fearlessness can stop you in your tracks. So how could I not race to hear him up close, alive and well, in the Rubin Museum’s intimate auditorium?
The house was full; the crowd handsome, hip and sleekly dressed, in the know and waiting—like the six acoustic guitars already onstage—for their hero. The unlikely troubadour entered to a roar in his working clothes: intensely colored suit, shirt, tie, pocket handkerchief. And―surprise―knee-high Paul Bunyan boots made for striding.
One can analyze Scheuer’s music and lyrics; his harmonies are comforting, but deftly laced with flashes of progressions that surprise (like his boots). Just when you think you know where things are going they remind you that he’s the pilot. They twine around his lyrics, rhyme or free verse, complex ideas that pack a very direct emotional wallop. They sneak up on you; not so much flashes of surprise, but cannily structured bits of theatre that build stealthily to a climax, invade your heart. Don’t even try to distance yourself. Just give in to discovery.
What Scheuer has, in spades, is a low-key charm, a magnet that captures, and keeps, your attention. He is affable, chatting and singing, even when describing the darkest days of his life, and hilarious when recounting his meeting, and pursuing, Ms. Right. He has a lot of stories. What makes them go, whatever their content, is his generosity of spirit; he’s always in the moment, and you’re there with him. This is a man in the moon who enjoys performing and knows how to share his glow.
He’s an alumnus of the Johnny Mercer Foundation Songwriters Project, a music theatre crucible where creatives are driven to the next level. Also an alumnus of Eton and Harvard. Yes, his background has given him access to the basics of being Out There. But it’s his enormous talent
and empathy that have moved him far beyond the benefits of favors to win the laurels he deserves. He’s his own man, and they are very, very real. He has also chosen collaborators, kindred spirits (like Peter Baynton,who directed his videos) who have found exactly the right key to make his songs resonate on stage and screen.
Now for the bottom line: those songs make you cry, except when they make you laugh. He has the gift of alchemy. His father’s death and his own illness have been transmuted into universal experiences that cut right through your defenses and any scar tissue you’ve accrued from living in the 21st century. The real miracle is how he’s made lemonade out of some really colossal lemons. He stands tall and radiates hope, and you catch it, like some redemptive antibiotic. Especially when he announces that he will celebrate his fifth anniversary of being cancer-free this July.
If you’re lucky enough to snag a ticket, celebrate the occasion with him in person at Guild Hall in East Hampton on July 1st (https://www.guildhall.org/). You can watch his videos on YouTube (there are many) and relish the CD of Songs from THE LION (Paper Music/ADA). His Web site (http://benjaminscheuer.com/) will tell you where to catch him live later on: this troubadour is taking his show on the road, big time! Shine on, Ben―shine on. It’s a lovely light.