music to dine by

by Bing Futch

Listening to Marc

Zouhar’s music is like

taking a trip on some

1940’s art deco train,

one that choo-choo’s

ever so smugly and

offers up starry -eyed

memories of a time

when luxury was a way

of life. “Space-jazz”,

his compositions have been dubbed. And what about

that soft as Ivory Soap voice that half-whispers, half

croons originals like they were Gershwin standards?

When it comes to the caricature of lounge pianists as

mousy, cheesy, dainty little men with sweet voices and

a romantic notion about candlelight and wine,

well–Zouhar is the lounge poster child, but he takes it

to a different level of weirdness that is downright

chilling in its subtlety. Playing left handed bass, he

runs through walking bass lines aided subliminally by

swinging cymbals and sparkly synth patches that

burble like the stuff that Lawrence Welk used to love

so much. Soft ballads of incurable romance are mixed

with a mellow stage presence that is almost ghostly.

Zouhar’s mastery of the keyboard is stellar, his

improvisations and instrumental noodlings are the

work of a studied and trained musician. “When I was

fourteen….well it’s funny, we always had a piano and

my mom played a little–this black piano,” recalls

Zouhar. “I never really took much interest, it wasn’t

until my father bought me a Wal-Mart Casio keyboard,

that’s what got me started initially.” The little organ

had only 12 sounds, but they were what the young

composer would start with, using his brother’s boom

box to record demos. The built-in microphone and

double cassette features made it easy to lay down

songs and then give them to friends and family. He

found great joy in doing this and in his senior year of

high school, he released a tape called “The Exit”

which he placed in stores on consignment. That was

1990.

Since then, he took four semesters of musical theory

training at Manatee Community College between ‘92

and ‘93 and about that time, broke into his first paying

musical job. “The first solo gig was playing piano at a

restaurant at the Holiday Inn in Bradenton, the HI

Riverfront,” he says. After scores of talent shows and

small garage bands, nothing had prepared Zouhar for

the world of restaurant gigs. “Never did I sit down at a

piano wearing a tie, and have people hear me on a

continuous basis. Playing at a restaurant is one of the

hardest gigs I think, cause they’re just sitting there and

they’re gonna be there for 45 minutes, even longer.

They’re ten feet away from the piano, it’s one of the

most demanding jobs.”

Following his first gig, he began to book weddings,

receptions, parties and any other situations that would

call for him to play for hours, improvise and provide a

casual atmosphere; it’s the kind of gig that he prefers.

Band situations always provided too many sandpaper

personalities. “I’ve never had a really good

relationship with anybody, musically, never. It doesn’t

mean that I don’t want it to happen, I haven’t tried very

hard, but I’ve definitely never had a great relationship

with anyone else, I can say the same thing about my

personal life, about girls too.” The composer, who also

creates income by teaching piano lessons, is magnetic

on stage, but comes off as quiet and withdrawn in

person. During this particular interview, he is a bit

sullen and introspective. His major problem seems to

be: himself.

“Sometimes I think that

I’d like to have a big

band, brass section, but

right now, I’ve been

searching for a new

sound, I’ve hit a

plateau and I really am

searching–right at this

moment, I don’t really

want,” he pauses and

starts again with a resigned sigh. “I need to do some

soul searching, to be cliche.” When asked if he’s

jaded, he perks up unexpectedly. “Definitely jaded,

that’s a good adjective–I’ve never gone through

something like this, it’s always come very easily–never

in my life have I felt this way about music, it’s sort of

frightening.” The main conflict within Zouhar is his

increasingly scientific nature, a logician of sorts who

loves to discuss anti-matter and calculus, he feels that

the man of science is quashing the little kid who

enjoyed simply rolling around in the music. “I used to

think that every note I played, every note I recorded

was a masterpiece, I guess I was very egocentric, I

mean everybody is, but now, I don’t think anything I do

is good, just the opposite. I don’t know what that

means, if I’m holding myself to a higher standard or

just changing permanently.”

While Zouhar struggles to redefine his identity, both off

the stage and on, he continues to gig around Orlando

at gauche eateries and fine wine establishments

where his soothing strains wafts into the air like the

cigarette smoke it was made to dance with. With

plenty of songs and improv skills under his belt, Zouhar

has no lack of style or repertoire- -but the musician lost

within the music is seeking redemption and release as

he seeks his muse once again.

“Channeling music, it happened easily–whoever was

giving it to me has left.”