Last fall, on a complete whim, I opened up Edmonton’s Yardbird Suite website to see what was playing. I’d never been there before, which is in and of itself a travesty. I was looking for a neat idea for date night with my partner. Lo and behold, I saw that a New York-based (although two of the women are originally from Canada) trio named Duchess was scheduled to appear. Three women singing 1940s harmony in the style of the Boswell Sisters. SIGN ME UP!

It was a sublime night of music. Duchess – comprising Amy Cervini, Hilary Gardner and Melissa Stylianou – were skilled, funny and imperfect (which, ironically, only served to make them more excellent).

The following spring, I was planning a trip to New York and thought I’d see if the famous trio would be in town. As luck would have it, they were playing a residency at
55 Bar (a very cool place on Christopher Street, beside the Stonewall Inn in NYC) the week I was there. They were gracious in their reply to my tweets and even moreso the night of the gig. They saved my friend and me a table with this card on top (see below). It was sweet and wholly unnecessary because my friend and I arrived embarrassingly early. However, there are perhaps 10 tables in the whole joint and, thanks to the trio’s kindness, we were front and centre. Lovely.

If I may digress, I must tell you about 55 Bar. It is a dive in the best sense of that word. As little white bread Canadians, we’re not used to strolling into little joints like this. In Canada, dive bars are truly that. In NYC, however, dive bars are de rigueur. This one is a kick in the pants. It is as narrow as a train car and about half as long. The bar takes up most of the right side and the few tables it boasts crowd the left. The artists are corralled into very small ‘stage’ against the back wall, and so sitting in front feels like being in the band. The bartender was hulking African American man named Kirby, who sweat profusely while he nimbly served drinks and made change for the folks in the room (Two drink minimum: an unchallenging goal for my friend and me). I have a feeling Kirby’s life would make a compelling biography.

Naturally, it was a great night with great music. Duchess was joined during their set by renowned clarinetist Anat Cohen, whom you may know as part of 3 Cohens with her two brothers, Avishai and Yuval. Anat rolled in with a couple of friends and sat at the bar waiting to join in. She has an unruly mane of dark, curly hair and looks appropriately hip. She struck me as quite unassuming, with the wry smile of someone aware they are in the midst of their dream life.

(fr left) Amy Cervini, Hilary Gardner, Melissa Stylianou, and me

One of our Duchess heroines passed Anat a raft of sheet music, which she clumsily spread across the seats of two chairs. She surveyed it, as the paper sagged between the two chairs, threatening to fall in a crumpled heap. Finally, she abandoned the sheet music and quipped to her colleagues, “Never mind. I’ll keep up.” And that she most certainly did.

Notwithstanding the last few paragraphs, the purpose of this entry is not to regale you with stories about Duchess. Rather, it’s what they symbolize that warrants this post: harmony, humility, laughter. They are not so precious or regimented that they’re unable to laugh at a missed lyric or being late to come in. They simply look at each other and try not to laugh their way through the rest of the song. They’re transparent about learning new songs, trying new arrangements, flubbing up their parts…about being imperfect. It’s a lesson for life, not to mention a sure fire way to charm an audience. They’re just as grateful they’re in the room as they are grateful for the audience. Their patter is clever and dances between well rehearsed and utterly spontaneous. Hilary, in particular, possesses a dry, self-deprecating wit.

The audience for them has not yet become an amorphous source of feedback in the dark – an applause machine rather than a group of people. The small venue offers the opportunity to interact somewhat, to acknowledge the very delicate partnership between audience and performer. (Of course, there’s always some loudmouth schnook in the crowd who believes his personal connection with the performer is a) the most important  and b) reciprocated in equal measure. It’s not, buddy.)

Mostly though, Duchess is about harmony. The musical kind, obviously. But it’ s bigger than that. They are what harmony looks like in action. They have a lesson to teach us about putting egos aside, sharing the spotlight, creating something greater than the sum of the parts…about laughter, friendship, mutual positive regard, and utter joie de vivre. It was a very pleasant surprise to discover, while sitting in a dive bar in New York, that these are the gifts Duchess offers anyone who is truly listening.

PS. You can buy Duchess’ music on iTunes. Go now. Do it. You’re welcome.