Julian Russell

From clown to classical guitarist

by Joe Longone

I watch and listen to Julian Russell weave an ornate tapestry of music in front of a full room of diners at Kettles. Sitting on a stool, crouched over his guitar with his ear to the neck of is instrument, he looks like a Spanish-style or classical performer. I am amazed at the beautiful sounds this guy can make with a stringed piece of wood.

I've heard so much about Russell, so I am excited about our first formal meeting. He takes a break from his playing (he appears at the restaurant every Saturday) long enough to greet me and have a short conversation. What I find out about his past is pretty interesting.

After gushing with compliments, I ask him how long he has played guitar. "I first picked up the guitar when I was 15," says the 26-year-old. "I was at an age when Eddie Van Halen's eruptions seemed like the coolest thing. In the early '80s, metal music was dominated by great guitarists, and me being an adolescent got caught up in it. I started taking lessons from Joey D'Angelo [the Joneses, Mad Angel, etc.] and spent years playing in a number of small bands. By 1990, I was in a fairly successful local band called Rainmaker."

By 1991, this Charlton native went out on his own odyssey that enriched his musicianship. "I was 20, and I decided to get a job in the circus. A friend of mine had graduated from Clown College and was about to join the circus, and I bullshitted my way into also being a clown. For almost a year, I traveled all around the country in this circus. It was like being in a large, weird family situation, traveling with a tight group of performers and workers. It was while on the road, without a band, that I taught myself how to read music and play classic guitar," he says.

After a year, Russell wiped off his grease paint and went straight to the hotbed of popular music, the great Northwest. "Grunge was just hitting in '92, and I decided to check it out. I moved to Portland, Oregon -- which was not unlike Seattle. I found out quickly that unless you played a certain style of music no one was interested in how good a musician you were. I did meet a filmmaker named Heather MacDonald, who was in Oregon to make a documentary on a ballot proposal that would make a number of social issues -- including being gay -- illegal. I did the musical score for Ballot Measure 9. The film won the audience award for a documentary at the 1994 Sundance Festival. I recently saw a copy of it for rent at Starship Video," he says with some pride.

It's been less than three years since Russell moved back to the area. Displaying an array of classical, pop, and New Age material, he has made a name for himself in the local music scene. Debuting in 1995 at the Coco Bean, he has since played places as large as the Centrum (Brew Festival) and as small as a corner space at any number of coffeehouses.

Most people know him as the host of both the Plantation Club's (Wednesday) and the Espresso Bar's (Thursday) open-mic nights. As well as being a scheduled performer on these nights, he also takes on the role of master of ceremonies, sound man, and the guy passing the hat. "I've had some of my best nights at open mics. If the performers are talented and the crowd is receptive, you can't get any better. There are those bad nights when I'm left wondering what the hell is going on."

When he performs he will occasionally pull out a classical piece by Bach or brush off a Bob Dylan chestnut, but it's his compositions that are magical. There is a warmth and emotional depth to his pieces that is hard to describe. His style can transport you to exotic places. And his richly elaborate work touches my soul.

A 10-song cassette called Wire and Wood (self-released) is available. He plans to release a CD as soon as he has enough money to put one out.

You can catch Julian Russell at his usual haunts, along with an appearance at the Java Hut on September 20.