New compositions for quartet as well as music from the recently released album, Hard-Boiled Music.
$20/$17 early-bird
On Hard-Boiled Music, composer/guitarist/professor David Dvorin and his group, Pocket Quartet, explore the sinister side of instrumental film noir through the lens of blues and spacious free jazz. Hollowbody guitars shape shift between the edgy and elegant, but it's Dvorin's mindful approach to composition that takes listeners on a spine-tingling journey.
There's a lot of freedom in your arrange-ments.
Form to me is a big deal. I always have to change it up because you hear so much of the same kind of stuff. I always have to have something odd in there.
You have a blues background.
I was taken to all the San Francisco blues festivals when I was a kid in the '70s and'80s. My dad wanted me to be a lead guitarist in a rock band, but I rebelled and went to music school (laughs). I got into art music and composition, but the blues has always stuck with me; I love blues as a compositional vehicle. I love stretching it and changing it. Even in the chamber work that I write, there'sabluesthing going on, and jazz, of course, which is a huge influence. I would never associate myself as either a blues or jazz guitarist, but they are important influences for me. I was obsessed with Jim Hall and Bill Frisell for a number of years.
How does film noir music influence your compositional style?
We have to find things to keep us motivated and do new things. Film noir was an obses-sion, and I turned out a bunch of pieces like that. My fundamental principle is to do my own thing. I started playing guitar when I was eight. I value artists who express a unique voice, so from the get-go, I never wanted to emulate anyone. I wanted to go after whatever was interesting to me at the moment but keep adding to it to make it uniquely me. That's what Ilike about listening to music. That's been my guiding principle all along and the principle behind my compositional work.
The film noir thing started as a joke between me and our bass player, Randy McKean. We used to joke about some of the old gangster films and the language they used. So, I started writing music around some of the slang, and it grew on me. I read The Big Sleep. Raymond Chandler's writing is the thing that pushed it over the edge. He has a slang dictionary in the back of the book, which was great. That book influenced me the most.
There's beautiful grittiness on "The Shiv." Which guitar are you playing?
No one leaves a knife fight unscathed. For the entire album, I play a Bacon Belmont made by Gretsch. It's a fat archtop from the mid'50s with De Armond Dynasonic pickups. It's an amazing guitar. Before KittycasterFX went out of business, they made the Groovy Wizard; I was looking for something where I could lower the Volume knob. I hate when fuzzes drop out. It gave me a driving sound even when the Volume was turned down. I'm cascading that into an Origin Effects DCX Boost, which gives me a little extra grit. It's a gnarly sound that reminds me of a Supro Valco Comet from the '50s. I love that gnarly clipping, and these pedals give me that. I love gain staging. There are endless possibilities.
What's on your pedalboard?
I'm using a two-tier Schmidt Array board. The effects I use depend on the guitar. The Gretsch is super clear and works well with a tiny bit of compression, so the first thing I hit is the ThorpyFX Fat General, which allows me to blend dry signal and makes my guitar sound punchy and fuller. That goes into the DCX Boost to get more grit. The next stage is fuzz, then into a Strymon Volante Echo Machine; I always have some tremolo and reverb. I like tremolo last. I use a Red Panda Tensor granular delay on "Low Low Low" to get glitchy, weird, pitch-shifting effects.
Which amps did you use?
The main amp was the Victoria Vicky Verb. It gets a really great sound. I swapped out the original speaker with a 12" Celestion Blue, which gives me the highs I want. On "Benny the Fink," I used an Analog Outfitters Sarge amplifier. The natural overdrive on that is amazing.
What do you tell students who are searching for their voice on their instrument?
I'm a professor of composition, and I build my classes around that. I teach a lot of electronic music and music technology. We learn by emulating others, but hopefully you move on and build on that. My courses are built around trying to find something unique in your voice or in your head, then trying to manifest it. Getting that original idea out in some way so it hasn't been altered or hasn't been influenced too much.
The reality is, when we come up with stuff off the top of our heads, it's usually a concatenation of things we've heard in our memories. It's us misremembering things or trying our best to re-create something we've heard before. Our brains messit up, and that's an important thing to honor. I encourage that - it's intuitive writing.
New compositions for quartet as well as music from the recently released album, Hard-Boiled Music.
$20/$17 early-bird
New compositions for quartet as well as music from the recently released album, Hard-Boiled Music.
"Optimism and joy are the buzzwords this week, emphatically and without apology—because sometimes when things seem bleak all around, there’s nothing wrong with engaging in a bit of escapism and pure pleasure. I didn’t know David Dvorin before a mutual friend sent him my way, but it turned out I knew at least a bit of his work: the Emmy-nominated composer, guitarist, author, and educator provided sound transformations for Sun Rings,the elaborate 2002 collaboration by composer Terry Riley, Kronos Quartet, and vocal ensemble Volti. Dvorin’s also part of a busy Northern California community of composing improvisers documented on Cure-All Records.
Like that piece, Man in Space is a paean to space travel, human ingenuity, and limitless possibility. The album, fully instrumental apart from the voices of vintage media samples, captures the giddy delight earlier generations of Americans felt about space exploration, with its acknowledgement of human achievement, embrace of the unknown, and view of scientific advancement as cause for civic and national pride.
Paradoxically, perhaps, Dvorin conceived his expansive celebration of the endless cosmos during the isolation of pandemic-era lockdown. Leaning into a peak Space Age frame of mind, he fashioned retro-futuristic sounds with spacious reverberation, stinging fuzz-guitar leads, pulsating rhythms, and modular synthesizer (described as “an analog/digital flight computer of the mind”), with literally cosmic sound samples processed and deployed like fantastical new instruments.
Listening, I sometimes imagined kinship with fellow art-rock guitarist-composers like Steve Tibbetts and the late Scott Johnson. But Dvorin is his own kind of eclectic, slipping with ease into silky jazz modes, riff-rock grooves, and elegant, emotive lead-guitar soloing.
The album is dotted with playful signifiers of yesteryear, like an earnest Carl Sagan proclamation in “We Are Starstuff” (“We’re made of star stuff. We are a way for the cosmos to know itself.”). In the eerie abstractions of “Dark (Cold),” Dvorin evokes blueman Blind Willie Johnson’s recording “Dark Was the Night, Cold Was the Ground” hurtling through space on NASA’s fabled Golden Record—and, perhaps, what an alien consciousness might make of the song.
“Deluxe Man in Space,” the album’s extravagantly media-drunk finale, packs in ebullient vintage TV commercials, futuristic rock band The Way-Outs from a 1965 episode of The Flintstones, a sly bite of “Tomorrow Never Knows,” and clanging tubular bells that might have wandered in from a Phil Spector vinyl single taped off an AM broadcast on a transistor radio. It’s totally over the top—but in a way that signifies embracing the impossible earnestly and infectiously.
Start to finish, Man in Space is a joy. Cue it up, strap in, and enjoy the ride."
https://nightafternight.substack.com/p/for-the-record-may-30-2025
Composer/guitarist David Dvorin explores the less-is-more approach to drums, bass, and jazz harmony through ensemble imagery that draws upon TV noir of the 1950s and beyond. Elegant and edgy hollowbodies feed off sax and vibraphone improvisations, inspiring spine-tingling melodies. Picture seedy nightclubs, concrete jungles, hipsters, and Henry Mancini. Highlights include "Flim-Flam Man," "Exit the Side Door," and "The Getaway."
"Sitting in chairs on the floor in front of the auditorium’s stage on opposite sides of a dark wooden end table, with Dvorin’s three sparkling acoustic guitars behind them on stands and only a single, antique fringe-shaded lamp for décor, gave the presentation a sense of intimacy and focus. Beginning with Seda’s plucked violin in close interplay with Dvorin’s picked guitar notes, opening number “Sucker Punch” established the duo’s credibility as masters of both technical skill and emotive musicality. The music moved gracefully from jazzy, rapid-fire interaction to delicate unified themes evocative of pastoral or elegiac classical music. I particularly enjoyed “Switchback,” a piece featuring gnarly buzzing guitar notes counterpointed by swirling violin, which Dvorin described as “one of our weirder ones,” and Seda’s “Emil,” a short piece with ebulliently conversational interplay between the instruments."