From the Feb 15 – Feb 21, 2001 issue

Visual Art

Rock 'n' Roll Family Circus

Talking With Jason Trachtenburg and His Highly Talented Progeny

by Jason Pagano

For eight long years, Jason Trachtenburg toiled as a talented but overlooked songwriter at open mics throughout the city, until the fortuitous purchase of a five-dollar slide projector transformed him, his wife, Tina, and their seven-year-old daughter, Rachel, into an art-pop dynamo.

Well... almost. Actually, Jason Trachtenburg has happily spent the better part of the past decade performing at open mics, steadily developing his stage presence in democratically allotted 15-minute increments. He met his wife at one of these performances, at the Speakeasy in NYC's East Village. He'll proudly defend to anyone the importance of open mics: "To me, even the worst open mic is still better than your average rock show... three or four dudes doing their incredibly loud chord progressions."

As for the slide projector, it was actually an idea Tina had suggested previously and then let pass, and it didn't have much to do with the uncanny songs Jason had been writing for some time beforehand as a solo artist.

Though the Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players have existed for almost a year, word of their live show has recently begun to filter throughout the city: a family musical revue comprised of catchy pop, childlike creativity, and image after hilarious image of boring trips, unfortunate fashions, and oblique historical references. "OPNAD Contribution Study Committee Report--June 1977" for example, is a mini rock opera in six parts, presenting in unwavering detail the results of a marketing report conducted for the burgeoning McDonald's hamburger syndicate. And when the act hits a snag, as it often does, the amount of charm generated by a fidgety, warble-voiced guitarist/keyboardist, his slide projectionist wife, and their precocious daughter is enough to see them through. For a show at the Breakroom this past November, Tina and her father provided 200 homemade tamales. They've got a closing theme song, for chrissakes.

At last year's Stranger talent show, a then-six-year-old Rachel took the stage for the first time. Bashfully clutching her harmonica, she captivated the crowd, humming along to "Mountain Trip to Japan, 1959," a surreal, mesmerizing ode to lifeless, tiresome vacations. They took third. Admittedly, if Rachel had never progressed from diversion to drummer, the act could only have wandered so far from open mic night. But nine months after her first performance, she sits behind a full drum kit, sings backup, is writing her first slide song, and now occasionally exhibits the same hammy playfulness as her dad onstage. Says Tina, "I tell people she's a drummer in a rock band, and they go, 'Oh, how cute!' No! It's not cute! She's a real drummer in a rock band!"

While not openly acknowledging their daughter's importance to the act's salability, both Tina and Jason are protective. "She's free to be a child... otherwise she'd be Drew Barrymore or something," says Jason. "Show business can be very overwhelming. It affects her stage presence when she gets caught up in it."

After living in Capitol Hill and Ravenna, the Trachtenburgs have established an easygoing family bohemia in Lake City, where they run their dog-walking company, the Dog Squad. For a while, Tina was selling her homemade salsa at local health food stores. Over some tea and an uncharacteristically tasty piece of vegan cake, Jason took two minutes to relate his history as a musician: Growing up in Philadelphia, he began playing guitar and writing songs at about 14, taught himself piano at 18, and moved to New York at 20. There he became involved with the anti-folk movement and began his long open mic "career." "I was thinking every night, 'This is gonna be the night, this is gonna be the night.' Of course, it never was." He and Tina met and eventually left New York for Austin. Six months later, they wound up in Seattle (his father had owned a furniture store in Tukwila), and once again Jason immersed himself in the open mic scene. He befriended future Presidents guitarist Chris Ballew, and became an opening act at their shows. But after trying out another band, the Terriers, he returned to concentrate on his solo work.

And then, at last, the slides. While out walking dogs, Tina came across the garage sale where she purchased the old manual projector they still use. Picking up a box of slides (which eventually became "Mountain Trip") at an estate sale instigated the late-night epiphany essentially responsible for creating the Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players.

"Jason stayed up late... and the next morning, he's like, 'You gotta see this slide! This is so freaky, what I think this is.' So it's on the wall, and we're looking at this, and he says, 'It's an execution. Look at this! A graveyard! And I wrote a song!'" Now, much of the Trachtenburgs' time is spent sorting through the amateur photography of others. "We bought this whole batch and went through 'em," Tina remembers. "It was like three hours of mountains. We were waiting, thinking, 'There's gotta be something in here.' How many mountains do you need? Mountains and flowers?"

Still, to many, the Trachtenburgs are the band with the little girl on the drums. At shows, Tina says, "People will be sitting next to me and ask questions like, 'Is that her father? Is that his sister?' They're trying to figure it out. They're like, 'What kind of family is that?'" Adds Jason, "They've been saying that for years." But who's not to be taken seriously: the slightly peculiar family on stage? Or the guy projected on the screen behind them, who thought it was a good idea to preserve the disturbing image of himself clutching an eight-inch kitchen knife and half a loaf of bread?

"Society needs this," explains Jason. "Our slides, they're so middle America, and upper middle class. It's easy to bust on those people. Especially now that they're dead. And if we're going to hell because of it, I'm willing to take that chance. Because we're entertaining people, and that means we're not going to hell. We're respectful to the military even. We're just point-ing out what they do. We're respectful to McDonald's... we're just pointing out what they do."

Rachel sums it up: "We're making art. We're doing our job!"

The Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players perform at Kismet on Sat March 3, and open an afternoon all-ages show for the Posies at the Crocodile on Sat March 10. Jason Trachtenburg's Revolutions Per Minute is available on Orange Recordings.