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.”