Here’s a big thank-you to the People Behind the Pages -- people who have been described as society’s cast-offs, miscreants from another planet, codependent pariahs, and self-serving narcissistic ne’er-do-wells. Accurate descriptions, all. But they’re more -- Much more. The people listed here represent a cross-section of Washington’s most elegant and esoteric intellects. In their quixotic quest to locate the world’s most misunderstood artists, they have rallied round Jennifer Cutting and all her previous incarnations. They’re still trying to understand her.

Mike Martin, architect of the Jennifer Cutting Website, is a guardian angel for Washington-area musicians, and has prevented many a suicide by encouraging affected musicians to kill their managers instead. Electronics buyer by day, indefatigable concertgoer by night, and weekend master gardener, Mike has captured on video (and later allowed to escape) The New St. George’s most embarrassing performances, while accidentally recording over their finest moments with reruns of Baywatch. He also markets a T-shirt emblazoned with “The New St. George Broke Up, and All I Got Was This Lousy Video.” As a child, Mike Martin was smaller.

Scott Miller is a proud graduate of the Ed McMahon/Colonel Tom Parker Famous Managers Correspondence School (as seen on TV), and his ultimate goal is to sign Jennifer Cutting to a lucrative lifetime contract doing abysmally mediocre film soundtracks. He was present at the creation of British folk-rock, and he cherishes a field recording of a drunken Richard Thompson at St. Pancras Town Hall. A long-time Washington editor, Scott hears Jennifer Cutting’s work as continuing the great folk-rock traditions of Sandy Denny and Ian A. Anderson (Who Knows Where the Time Goes, and Please Readjust Your Time). His avocation is promoting Toto as the greatest canine actor in a non-dog movie.

Remember the improbability drive in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy? Liz Milner’s life and career have been propelled by the same force.  Born with a silver spoon in her mouth that somehow morphed into a plastic spork, Ms. Milner has spent her life searching for the way to fulfill her life’s purpose, that of being “a stray atom that causes fusion.” She is a crack cartoonist, an innovative chef, and her press releases have changed the way Alexandrians react to men in funny costumes ringing bells and screaming. Her rediscovery of the long-forgotten  indigenous Alexandria Goosepig was a major scoop for the Alexandria Gazette. 

Myron (I thought you said “Brain TRUSS”) Bretholz is a Celtic percussionist of Jewish origin with a degree in Chinese language, who was apparently switched in the cradle with an as-yet unidentified Irish baby who grew up to play Klezmer music. Whilst waiting in line to be innoculated against Mad Cow Disease in 1993, he was approached by Jennifer Cutting about possibly playing bodhran on The Matelot Jig track on High Tea. The recording session worked out; the vaccination didn’t, and Myron now divides his time between playing Irish drum on recording sessions and lecturing audiences on both sides of the Atlantic about the evils of contaminated beef. He is a vegetarian, but will not disclose exactly what part of Vegetaria he is from.

Stephen David Winick, Jennifer’s Webmaster, was born on a small island between two rivers, with a clear passage to the ocean.   His name means “garlanded, beloved wine-person,” which may explain why he grew up to look like Bacchus.  As a boy, he bought a calf, thinking he would eventually like to learn to play the bones.  He is a trained folklorist, a prominent writer, a lapsed professor and a frequent weightlifter—not to mention a lifelong cat-lover, an expert sous-chef, a minor poet, and an outrageous flirt.  Steve works at the Library of Congress, reining in Jennifer’s unruly prose, improving her self-esteem through daily affirmations, and saving her tail (or, in library terms, her “arrearage”). He has been known to sell CDs at Jennifer's concerts and—more astonishing still—to give her the money he makes, asking in return for a simple meal of kosher ham, aged cheese and sweet, sweet midgets.

Matthew Barton researches the life and work of Ernest Cutting. He is tall, dark, and waffer-thin.

Gary Billey, like Rock ’n’ Roll itself, was born in Cleveland, Ohio. Inspired by Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Gary set out on a holy quest that led him first to that Mecca of Green Bay, Wisconsin, and later to the iniquitous swamps of Washington, D.C. to pursue his calling as a video producer/director for MCI (an acronym or a Roman numeral?). In the course of his travels he studied with various masters of the esoteric and meditated on the Zen Koan, “the pursuit of artistry through computer engineering.” When it came time for her to deep six her acoustic piano and study the gnostic religion of MIDI, Jennifer felt compelled to seek out Gary as her Guru and sit at his feet. When asked to bring his brief bio to a catchy, zingy, conclusion, Gary intoned, “Read the manual,” a revelation on which Jennifer is still meditating.

Sibelius/notation guru Neil Gladd is one of the few people who can play both a Bach Fugue and Purple Haze on the mandolin, and his own music runs the gamut from ragtime to 12-tone. When he’s not playing good music in concert or at home, the U.S. Government pays him to listen to bad music and watch bad films. Neil and Jennifer are engaged in mortal combat over who can find the wackiest cookbook. Neil’s best shots are here, but Jennifer is still winning with Dinner Through a Straw (liquid diet cookbook for people who have had their jaws wired shut), and the South African Master Hairdressers’ World Hairdressing Championship Cookbook (with its enigmatic page-33 recipe for  “Klapperwortels.”)

Melissa McDowell is an IT geekery consultant and occasionally admits to playing the fiddle in the Celtic tradition. She has for years taught small children effective methods of injuring one another through the martial arts and has even tried to teach a certain artist about double-entry bookkeeping. That’s fallen through and now it’s cash accounting all the way. Melissa doesn’t do Jennifer’s web site, play an instrument or sing on her recordings, clean her house, baby-sit the cats or fix her car. These may be the greatest contributions she can make to the brain trust.

Folklorist Stephanie Hall not only has no musical talent whatsoever, but did her dissertation on the folk traditions of the Deaf. With degrees in both literature and folklife, her academic experiences have inspired Jennifer’s avoidance of the academy. Hall is noted for having contributed the word “overlord” to All the Tea in India, and for pointing out that Forgiveness pays homage to the venerable Chuang Tsu, whose works Jennifer had never read. Jennifer reciprocated by contributing the word “Chuang” to Stephanie’s acclaimed science fiction story Chuang and the Giant Peach.