By Ashley Zimmerman
By Dana Krangel
By John Hood
By Ashley Zimmerman
By David Von Bader
By Sayre Berman
By Steve Brennan
By Ashley Zimmerman
"After I tried the Stick for the first time, I said, 'I don't need a Stick,' until I finally felt I should buy a Stick," says Bianco, looking around the room like a wound-up teenager. "So now I'm a Stickist. I have been studying this intently for the past three days. You can say I have Stickorexia -- I haven't slept or ate in three days because the Stick won't let me. I can't put it down, and I'm not getting the proper diet or sleep that I normally do."
A passing waitress glances at Bianco's prized instrument. "It's ugly," she remarks. The guitarist nods in agreement, unfazed.
Bianco is at home here in this New-Age coffeehouse and art gallery, where he performs Wednesday through Sunday evenings. Sometimes he plays a seven-string guitar, which extends the normal guitar-range to a low B. But he's known for playing two six-string guitars at once. With one resting on a stand and the other hanging from his neck, Bianco fingers chords and bass notes with his left hand while playing melodies up and down the neck with his right. Instead of strumming the strings, he taps them, not unlike a keyboard player. The Stick is the newest instrument to be incorporated into his act.
"I added a second guitar to beef up my act a little bit, because I missed wailing on distortion," explains Bianco. "You can't do that with normal two-handed tapping, because as soon as you put on the distortion, your two hands become a big blur. So I put the second guitar up here two years ago, and that became like a band member. On that guitar I can play screaming distorted leads, and it doesn't affect my chord playing."
Not many guitarists do the kind of work Bianco does. Eddie Van Halen is renowned for his tapping technique, Stanley Jordan is recognized for his two-guitar jazz music, and Tony Levin (of the band King Crimson) has won praise for his handling of the Stick. At the Now Art Cafe, Bianco taps, plays a Stick, and handles two guitars at once.
"I look at it as a Field of Dreams type of thing," Bianco explains. "This is my baseball field; I'm building my field. 'If you build it, they will come' -- that's the attitude I have. I like being exclusive, because there are too many musicians out of work. Maybe you could call that fear... but I like the fact that I can build a following. I turn a lot of gigs down because they come on weekends. I'm going to stay here and try to find out how to get onto that other level and still play here, and not do the circuit."
He's already done the circuit. Among other gigs, he once toured as the opening act for the popular guitar-and-vocal jazz duo Tuck and Patti. "I thought that this is what I should be doing, half an hour a day for six days a week, going around the world," Bianco recalls. "Both of them said, 'We need to get Bianco signed,' and I was so excited. They gave me their home phone number and told me to call them, and I called their home. But they weren't there, so I didn't leave messages. Maybe I don't pursue hard enough. I don't get calls back."
Instead, Bianco took matters into his own hands. Last July he released his first CD, Bianco, which was recorded during two sessions at the Now Art Cafe. The CD offers a dreamy, New-Age soundscape with beautiful, echoing melodies. But, strangely enough, it doesn't feature much of Bianco's two-guitar playing.
"There's not enough guitar on the CD, no question about it," Bianco acknowledges, tapping at the Stick. "I put this CD out because of the title I was given and the place I play -- because I'm advertised as a New-Age guitarist. I figured, let me at least get the New-Age material out of the way. My next CD isn't gonna be all these textures and echoes; it's gonna be burning guitar, very fast, with walking bass lines and fast solos done on second guitar."
Bianco's loyalty to the Now Art Cafe is mutual. Angel Spence, a 36-year-old retired model, has owned the cafe since her partner, artist and Now Art founder James Morlock, passed away in November 1996. "Michael and James were the original reasons I got involved," says Spence. "Now Michael is the Now Art, and his music has grown into Now Art music. If Michael got discovered, I would leave, too. I would have no connection to the Now Art. It would just become a business, and I have no interest in running a coffeehouse business."