Sunday, August 28, 2011
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
'Twas the Low Spark...
... that laid me to rest;
at the very least, it became the anthem of my restlessness.
It was the mid '70s, and I was rapidly losing interest in my Establishment computer programming job in Michigan. This job had come my way via a series of mishaps, wrong turns, and vague castings about for meaning (a complete loss of my moorings in graduate school, some half-formed, half-hearted efforts at various jobs, a failed marriage, etc.).
I was vaguely resentful of my boss's Cadillac
("the man in the suit has just bought a new car,
from the profits he's made on your dreams")
-- even though I couldn't come close
to conjuring up
any grand, beckoning dreams.
My frustrations were funneled into two-mile lap swims at the Y in the mornings (that was a lotta turns!), followed by some intense programming, followed by the ripping off of my chains (tie and dress shirt) and long walks in my t-shirt over lunch break, as the swelling strains of that grand Traffic anthem played over and over in my head.
A gripping song of my unseasoned twenties, full of contextual emotional overtones.
And I still love it, in spite of / because of those associations. Maybe it's because even the first few strains of this tune still snap me to attention, swell my chest and my throat with off-center emotions, and take me back to those defiant lunchtime walks up State Street. And maybe because I can look back from a several-decades perspective, and chart the emotional distance that I have traveled from the churning crucible of my mid-twenties.
Over that time I've been blessed with a new direction, a retooling, an ever-growing relationship, a new career, and a loving family. I've worked on discovering bits and pieces of myself, and assembling them into a semblance of a whole (hat tip to WAC). And a growing recognition of the power and beauty of music, as a soundtrack, a catalyst, a Siren's beckoning call, a soother, a stirrer, a shaker, my very own Shape Shifter.
Here's to playing in Traffic, and to
letting
yourself
go.
at the very least, it became the anthem of my restlessness.
It was the mid '70s, and I was rapidly losing interest in my Establishment computer programming job in Michigan. This job had come my way via a series of mishaps, wrong turns, and vague castings about for meaning (a complete loss of my moorings in graduate school, some half-formed, half-hearted efforts at various jobs, a failed marriage, etc.).
I was vaguely resentful of my boss's Cadillac
("the man in the suit has just bought a new car,
from the profits he's made on your dreams")
-- even though I couldn't come close
to conjuring up
any grand, beckoning dreams.
My frustrations were funneled into two-mile lap swims at the Y in the mornings (that was a lotta turns!), followed by some intense programming, followed by the ripping off of my chains (tie and dress shirt) and long walks in my t-shirt over lunch break, as the swelling strains of that grand Traffic anthem played over and over in my head.
A gripping song of my unseasoned twenties, full of contextual emotional overtones.
And I still love it, in spite of / because of those associations. Maybe it's because even the first few strains of this tune still snap me to attention, swell my chest and my throat with off-center emotions, and take me back to those defiant lunchtime walks up State Street. And maybe because I can look back from a several-decades perspective, and chart the emotional distance that I have traveled from the churning crucible of my mid-twenties.
Over that time I've been blessed with a new direction, a retooling, an ever-growing relationship, a new career, and a loving family. I've worked on discovering bits and pieces of myself, and assembling them into a semblance of a whole (hat tip to WAC). And a growing recognition of the power and beauty of music, as a soundtrack, a catalyst, a Siren's beckoning call, a soother, a stirrer, a shaker, my very own Shape Shifter.
Here's to playing in Traffic, and to
letting
yourself
go.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Tears of Joy: Mill Ruins Gig
July 14, 2008
Hey, Alexei and Channy,
Jane and I are looking forward to your gig at the Mill City Museum this Thursday. I plan to buy a couple of your new CDs while we're there. I'm also very excited to see that Kill the Vultures will be performing at the Black Dog Block Party on August 31.
A few weeks back, Jane took a four-day intro to hip-hop class called "In Da Tradition", put together by Sha Cage and others at the U of M. The audience was teachers and students, and there were a number of local mentors there to lend their knowledge and experience. Jane learned an awful lot of stuff that she can use at her high school. After the last day of class there was a hip-hop showcase at the Whole in Coffman Union. Jane invited me, and I really enjoyed it.
But what I enjoyed the most was her seemingly spur-of-the-moment signing up for a spot, and reading a really, really cool poem -- with so much style and real feeling it was as though she had written it herself... I discovered by the end that she *had* written it -- it was a love poem to me for my birthday, which was the next day. Awesome!
Since Friday is Jane's birthday, would you guys be willing to do some sort of Happy Birthday serenade for her from the stage this Thursday? OR BETTER YET, could you announce a request from Bruce, dedicated to Jane for her birthday, and then play "These Tears Ain't Mine"? Jane is the love of my life, you know.
Thanks for making us happy, most of the time... and for making us cry.
Tears of Joy: Sur Mississippi
October 7, 2006
Bonjour, mes amis!
It has been a beautiful week, weather-wise, in Minnesota. And a beautiful week of getting repeatedly lost in "Songs for Swans", as well. I had a great conversation with Bryan over dinner the other day, where we talked in detail about that album. He told me about his experiences in the recording studio with you. I pointed out some numbers that really moved me:
"Ohio", for one. I was a student at another college in Ohio when the Kent State shootings happened. Your unique interpretation of that song led me, on my first listening, to a slowly dawning realization, followed by a shiver and a shout when Gwen starts in on the first "Tin soldiers" line.
"Four Women" for another. I told Bryan about your spare motif that opens that song, Denis, and then gets repeated frequently, in a way that seems new every phrase! Your depth of expression on the bass clarinet astounds me, and moves me to tears, loud guffaws, broad smiles, and baffled, head-shaking expressions of "Merde!", sometimes all at once!
Mixed news on the CD front: If you have mailed me any, they haven't arrived yet. Denis, whatever you are able to conveniently bring with you would be great. However, I scored a copy of "Trois!" An extensive Web search led me to Amazon.fr, who claimed to have it, with a 10-15 day shipment time. I just got an e-mail this morning, saying that "Trois" was in the mail. Magnifique!
A visit to Paris, eh? Sounds like a VERY intriguing idea...
In the meantime, tell me your Etats Unis gig schedule outside of Sur Seine. Bryan tells me you're going to play in Duluth!
Music IS the healing force of the universe!
Regards,
Bruce
Tears of Joy: Cirque Fan
August 24, 2002
Hi, folks,
Just wanted to let you know in writing how much I enjoyed your summer circus. I saw it twice at the Fringe, and again last Saturday at the BLB. By the third show, I almost felt like part of your troupe, because I stood up for a heartfelt ovation at the same time you stood up to take your bows. (I was the big guy in the first or second row of the risers.)
Even having read Jay's cover story in the City Pages last spring, as well as a few of the early Fringe reviews, I was totally blown away by your show. It was surprising, and beautiful, and breath-taking at every turn; all the elements worked together as performance art in ways I had never expected and still have trouble articulating. (For my attempt at articulation, please take a look at my audience review on the Fringe Web site. I really did leave the BLB giggling and sobbing that first time. In fact, I lost my way and walked into a parked bicycle, I was so distracted. Well, rather than be embarrassed, I'll consider that my contribution to your multimedia, multi-sense, multi-sensational performance art!)
I brought my wife and a 15-year-old family friend to your show last Saturday. They loved it, but were a little put off by Ansley and Tierney's outfits. I thought they were great - the all-white theme was really cool, and Ansley looked at the beginning like a circus performer who was going to ride around the ring standing atop a white stallion. And when that heavenly voice came out of her mouth right after you started, I was first startled, then intrigued, then absolutely mesmerized. The contrast between visual expectation and aural experience was a terrific introduction to a series of non-stop delights. Heck, after you hooked us in with your acrobatic voices and hands and bodies, what you were wearing receded into the background - you could have been wearing white t-shirts and painter's pants for all it mattered...Wait, isn't that what Jay WAS wearing?
So I bought your album after the first show, and I just love the music. Terrific job composing and performing, Ochen. Would you be willing to send me the lyrics? I've followed enough of them by ear to be enchanted and intrigued. And I want to look for evidence of your work at the Walker. I've been to a number of terrific musical shows there, stretching back to Boiled in Lead when Todd Menton was still with them. Most recently I was blown away by the Bang-On-A-Can All-Stars and Gao Hong's international pipa-based show.
Tierney, I bought your album and loved it. (Although I have bone to pick with you, Jay - you told us that you were featured on her solo album. What's up with that? {giggle}) I hope to catch one of your shows next week. (Although my loyalties are divided: Your are competing with my kids in a community theater production of "Pirates of Penzance" at Como Lakeside Pavilion, and I've only seen it three times so far...)
Ansley, I hope you read this - I couldn't find an e-mail address for you. Do you have any albums out? And I see that you're part of the juggling community, too - tell me more about your "latin devil sticking number" at the IJA in Madison in '99...
Jay, would you e-mail me more information on the two jugglers coming to Mpls, who you mentioned at the end of your show?
Have a great time teaching and learning in Europe, Jay and Ochen. I look forward to seeing more of your work, all four of you. (In fact, I just bought a new bass clarinet and have fantasies about providing audio and visual contrast and counterpoint at your next all-white show...)
I'd love to stay in touch, and to offer what support I can, beyond being an avid audience member.
Take care, and keep "up" the good work, all of you!
Bruce
Tears of Joy: Musical Rapture
April 29, 2002
Greetings, Earthlings,
I send you word from a higher plane of existence. In this wondrous
place, I am deeply satisfied, at all kinds of levels. But yet,
something is missing... Yeah, that's right: You! Company. There are a
few who are here with me... but not enough. For, while experiencing
musical transcendence brings me great joy, I am nearly as thrilled when
witnessing others doing the same thing.
OK. Earth to Bruce. Before I turn you off completely with my New Age,
Kum-ba-yah babble, let me give you some facts. Last night, I attended a
showing of "Rumblings," a blues ballet mix of music and dance that sent
me into the stratosphere. It was at the Southern Theater in
Minneapolis, a production of the Minnesota Dance Theater (MDT). The
show is a wondrous collaboration among dancers, vocalists, and a
four-piece instrumental combo. Dancers sing, singers dance, musicians
testify, and everybody emotes their souls out.
The show is built around an eclectic, moving mixture of musical numbers
from a number of local and world singers/songwriters/musicians,
including Cindy Lauper, Leonard Cohen, Tom Linker, Mean Larry, Sir
Benjamin Britten, Marc Anderson, Rogers and Hart, Kurt Weill, Shawn
Colvin, and Mary Ellen Childs. The give-and-take between musicians,
dancers, and audience is sheer magic.
My wife Jane and I went to a dance workshop at the Southern on
Saturday, put on by the MDT's artistic director Lise Houlton, the
members of the dance company, and Tom Linker, the show's
keyboardist/arranger. It was part of an outreach program at the
Southern. You should have seen us prancing around the stage... well,
perhaps not. But we had the opportunity to connect with the troupe, who
told us that they truly dig performing this show, because they can
really let their hair down and be adventurous. Every show is a little
different, with new moments of magic and inspiration, engendered by the
(rare) experience of dancers performing to LIVE music.
I was introduced to this show two years ago by my saxophone teacher,
Jeff King. He blows a mean horn in the combo, both alto and tenor. The
vocalists are Ruth MacKenzie and Bradley Greenwald, two local performers
with amazing voices and tremendous vocal/emotional ranges. Marc
Anderson is the multi-surface, poly-rhythmic percussionist. (The three
of them worked magic together last month in "The Snow Queen" at the
Children's Theater.) Paul Boblett undergirds the show with bass guitar,
and Tom Linker coaxes a wide range of emotional colors out of his
keyboards, his arrangements, and his compositions.
As you might guess from the preceding paragraph, I came to this show as
a music lover. Those of you who have heard my psycho-musical
exploration CD, "Bruce's Musical Melancholia," already know that music
grabbed me by the throat and soul several years ago, and won't let me
go. Jane is a music lover too, and also has a long-standing
appreciation for dance. (She was in a Detroit ballet school/company
from age 8-18. And dig this: One of the members of MDT interacted with
Jane on stage Saturday, and said to her, "You were a dancer, weren't
you?".)
My appreciation for dance is newer and less well-formed. But these
dancers perform an amazing hybrid of (what looked to me like) ballet,
modern dance, and sheer emotional, kinesthetic exuberance. Their faces
are almost as fun to watch as their bodies (although I don't want to be
deconstructionist - I appreciate Fred Astaire's dance esthetic that
insisted he only be photographed as a whole being, not a disjointed set
of body-part close-ups.) Anyway, you can see that these men and women
are having a marvelous time on stage. And Lise Houlton, choreographer,
has enhanced their (and our!) enjoyment many-fold by customizing the
movements to the talents and temperaments of each dancer. Let me tell
you, if I could move like Griff Braun, Kelly Greene, General McArthur
Hambrick, Jennifer Hart, Sara Kaprov, Laurel Keen, Anna Laghezza, Dario
Mejia, Uri Sands, or Abdo Sayegh, I wouldn't hang around being a public
servant! (I'd be in great demand as a medical marvel and challenger of
the laws of physics!)
So, here's my point: Drop EVERYTHING and EXPERIENCE THIS SHOW!
It is in the second and last week of its 2002 Twin Cities run: May
2-5. Shows are Thursday, Friday, and Saturday at 8:00 PM, Saturday also
at 2:00 PM, and Sunday at 7:00 PM. Check out the Web site at
http://www.southerntheater.org/pages/rumblings.html,
and call the automated box office at 612/340-1725 (all seats general
admission, $22.00). Seats are selling fast - last Friday and Saturday
were sold out ahead of time, and last night's show was packed.
I mean it - GO! My connection with this show is merely as unofficial
groupie. But as I said earlier, I get a thrill sharing my thrills with
you! So, I'll drive you there, I'll babysit your kids, I'll ... Well,
I'm willing to drive you part way, anyhow - I'll be your first stage
booster, but leave it up to the cast and crew to send you the rest of
the way into orbit.
This is the fourth spring that this show has been performed, and it has
grown from 4 to 17 music/dance numbers! MDT also takes it on the road
and does some shows in greater Minnesota in the fall.
This is my third year of participation. Every time I see it, it brings
tears of joy to my eyes, and/or makes me openly (well, discreetly) sob.
I'm going again on the last night, with my son and some friends from
Atlanta. I might even go a third time, if my Pied-Pipering would help
you get to the show.
If you work in my building, check out the program I pinned onto the
bulletin board in the MIS Bureau. Or - any of you - call me, e-mail me,
drop by, and I'll talk to you some more about my not-so-hesitant
endorsement.
Let yourself go,
Bruce
Tears of Joy: I can still feel the Rumblings within me
April 29, 2002
Lise, the Company, Ruth, Bradley, Jeff, Tom, Marc, Paul, Jeff Bartlett, the Southern, MDT,
Thank you all SO much for sharing your talent and creativity with Twin Cities audiences. My wife Jane and I saw Rumblings Sunday night (4/28), and, for the third year in a row, it met and exceeded all our expectations.
Jane and I also attended the family dance workshop last Saturday, along with our family friend Isabel. (Jane and I were the "mature", "substantial" couple.) What a kick that was! It was a terrific outreach effort, and we enjoyed it immensely. So a big hug to Lise and the Company, and a warning - next year, I'm gonna get in line for that Hallelujah rope!
I'm bringing two friends from Atlanta, and my 15-year-old son, to see you all again next Sunday. And, if I get any takers with the letter below, I may even show up a third time! I sent the following e-mail to about 40 people this afternoon, including Jim Walsh and Dominic Papatola at the Pioneer Press. And I just got a reply, within 20 minutes, from a friend who's going to try to come to the show.
I want you all to know how extraordinarily moved, on a musical, spiritual, emotional, and (virtual) kinesthetic level, I am by your work.
Sincerely,
Bruce
Tears of Joy: The Sharing of Musical Fervor
April 23, 2001
Hello, Jim,
I am about to send you the following messages via snail mail, because they accompany a pair of (non-commercial, non-demo) CDs. But the time sensitivity of my Rumblings recommendation (see below) leads me to e-mail my text to you in advance:
______________________________________________________________
April 23, 2001
Dear Jim,
I've really been grooving on your columns in the Pioneer Press about the local pop music scene. Not so much because I'm a pop music fan - jazz and blues are more my milieu these days - but because of the way that you infuse them with emotional depth and share with us your visceral reactions to the music you hear. For the past several months I've been meaning to write you and tell you how much I enjoy your writing, and how you share your love of music with us. There have been times when I've come really close to checking out a band that you reviewed, just because of the way you wrote about them.
But I was really moved to connect with you after reading your April 5 column about the lifting of the cloud of depression that had been hemming you in for the last few months. I've just now reread that column, and I could spend the rest of this letter quoting passages from it that really resonate with me. I think "resonating" is really apt imagery here - good music makes me hum and vibrate with feeling. And when two physically separate objects cause each other to resonate at certain frequencies, it's called "sympathetic vibration" - I think that's what happens when you really connect with a piece of music, or, better yet, connect with someone else who is also connecting with that same piece of music at that same time. As you said, at those moments we are sharing different and intensely personal reactions. Damn straight, when we connect that way, we ARE the voice of God.
Anyway, thanks for sharing your passion with us. I'd like to return the favor, by sharing some of my musical passion with you. Your religious references in that column remind me of an e-mail that I sent to a bunch of fellow music lovers in February, after being moved to tears by a musical experience. I am enclosing a copy of that letter for you.
The quote "Had it with the melancholia" at the end of your column is a perfect lead-in to the other contents of this package - a 2-CD recording I put together between 1997 and 1999 entitled "Bruce's Musical Melancholia." It started out as some self-reflections about music and my depression, and ended up (I think) being a testament to the healing power of melody, harmony, rhythm, and verse. I recorded using cassette tape and my stereo system, and just recently figured out how to separate my ramblings into tracks and burn my own CDs. I have begun to share this with friends who share a love of music. Two of them reported that they absolutely grooved to the CDs - not necessarily because they loved my particular musical choices, but because they really resonated with the transporting musical experiences I shared.
So I'd like to share this with you, to hopefully send back your way some of the good feelings that you have been sending my way through your columns. And, if it's OK with you, I'd like to add you to my "bunch of music lovers" e-mail list, to whom I plan to send my intermittent revelations.
Thank you for sharing so deeply with us, Jim. Keep it up!
Sincerely,
Bruce
Tears of Joy: Ruth MacKenzie Sighting
February 26, 2001
Bruce
Hiya people,
Ruth RULES! I saw her and a stream-load of very talented musicians and dancers yesterday in Kalevala: Dream of the Salmon Maiden at O'Shaugnessey Auditorium. Just a few bars into her first solo, I found myself weeping openly. I swear, that woman could recite the passing floor numbers on an elevator and move me to tears!
After this experience, and reflecting on my musical wanderings and awakenings over the last several years, I've come to an understanding: Music is my religion. And, as I told Pat this morning, Watch out! CDs are my pamphlets, and I'm gonna come knockin' on your doors to spread the word.
The Kalevala CD is in my office...
I also want to spread the word about the upcoming Rumblings show at the Southern Theater. Jane and I saw this last year, because my sax teacher Jeff King played in this show. It was our first introduction to Ruth MacKenzie, and it was fantastic! She and Bradley Greenwald sang some outstanding solos and duets, while interacting rhythmically and emotionally with a 4-piece jazz-blues combo and members of the Minnesota Dance Theater. The repertoire even included some Leonard Cohen songs!
See
... and be healed!
Tears of Joy
For many years, I avoided crying. Too much emotion. In 1963, after living overseas for two intense years in a small expatriate community, I was the only one in my family who didn't cry aloud as our plane took off for the States.
Long story short, my tune has changed, as over the last 14 years I've made increasingly deep forays into the right side of my brain. I have discovered a more emotional, more creative side to Mr. ANALytical, most readily evidenced in my love of music.
As I think I said at the beginning of this blog, I crave the thrill of music taking me away from emotional neutrality, in any direction. So I'm going to devote my next dip into the archives to tracing my writing about music and other art forms moving me to tears.
Side note: As I was developing this blog theme over the last few days, I was reminded of Blind Faith's single, self-titled album from 1969. As the driving rhythm of "Tears of Joy" welled up in my head, I started searching YouTube for a video. Couldn't find it, mainly because
the thing I was hearing was only the sound
of The Low Spark of...
no, it was "Sea of Joy", which title I was probably conflating with "Had to Cry Today" from the same album.
Anyhow, enJOY...
Long story short, my tune has changed, as over the last 14 years I've made increasingly deep forays into the right side of my brain. I have discovered a more emotional, more creative side to Mr. ANALytical, most readily evidenced in my love of music.
As I think I said at the beginning of this blog, I crave the thrill of music taking me away from emotional neutrality, in any direction. So I'm going to devote my next dip into the archives to tracing my writing about music and other art forms moving me to tears.
Side note: As I was developing this blog theme over the last few days, I was reminded of Blind Faith's single, self-titled album from 1969. As the driving rhythm of "Tears of Joy" welled up in my head, I started searching YouTube for a video. Couldn't find it, mainly because
the thing I was hearing was only the sound
of The Low Spark of...
no, it was "Sea of Joy", which title I was probably conflating with "Had to Cry Today" from the same album.
Anyhow, enJOY...
Monday, July 18, 2011
Iko Rolling Stone
December 31, 2006
The Cedar, the Dean, and the Wu. I spent some quality time with this group last night. Dean Magraw joined The Big Wu for their second set on the intimate stage of the Cedar Cultural Center in Minneapolis. Dean immediately kicked it into high gear with an infectiously upbeat rendition of Iko-Iko. He sang and he danced, with his fingers on the fretboard and his whole body on the stage. Have you seen this guy perform? Music and rhythm explode from his fingers and his feet and his frame. Whether he's soloing or comping or just listening to the other musicians, he grins and gallivants around like he can't help himself.
And it's infectious, dammit! You wanna catch a dose of musical exuberance, just get close to Dean when he performs. This guy embodies the notion of the Joy of Music!
Dean and the Wu ended the set with a fabulous version of Dylan's "Like a Rolling Stone," and sent me home, hoarse and crying.
"Songs for Swans" - Denis Colin Trio presents Gwen Matthews
I've had the great good fortune to participate in the "Minnesota Sur Seine" music festival in St. Paul and Minneapolis during the last three autumns. (Check out www.myspace.com/surseine; I'll also be telling you a lot more about this fabulous festival).
It's been an ear- and mind-opening experience, that's for damn sure! And I've had more than my share of ecstatic experiences listening to live performances by both Minnesotan and European musicians, all right here in River City.
It's been an ear- and mind-opening experience, that's for damn sure! And I've had more than my share of ecstatic experiences listening to live performances by both Minnesotan and European musicians, all right here in River City.
One of my peak experiences occured at the Dakota Jazz Club in October 2005, when I had a front row seat at the "Denis Colin Trio" (from Paris) "presents Gwen Matthews" (from the Twin Cities) show. These people absolutely knocked my socks off, messed with my head big time, and blew me away. The fact that Denis Colin is one of France's foremost jazz bass clarinetists drew me to the show; the magical potion that the four of them brewed up and served steaming hot and shiveringly cold kept me glued to my seat, with my head and spirit cavorting around the rafters like whirling dervishes.
Listening to Denis immediately banishes any lingering thoughts about the bass clarinet being a supporting harmony instrument. He wailed in all registers, inside and outside the tunes. Didier Petit played amazing cello, accompanied occasionally by his wordlessly haunting voice and some cello-top percussion. Pablo Cueco coaxed more rhythms and timbres and moods out of one stretched skin (on his zarb, a Persian drum) than I thought possible. And Gwen Matthews cajoled and pleaded and demanded and wailed with her outstanding set of vocal pipes.
It turns out they were working on a set of songs for their new album, "Songs for Swans". It is now available, in Europe and on the Web, through Hope Street records. Check out some samples at Denis' web site (www.deniscolin.com), under Projects - Trio & Gwen. Then buy the album (here: http://www.natomusic.fr/catalogue/musique-jazz/cd/hope-street-disque.php?id=57), and strap yourself in!
Thank you, Denis et compagnie, for sharing your searing musical/emotional insights with us!
Pivot Modulation
December 27, 2006
My son is minoring in music at college, and I'm eager to learn what he knows, without the tuition and the tests. Last night he told me about pivot modulation, where the mth chord in a key is redefined as the nth chord in another key. He went on to tell me that Sage Francis sometimes uses this technique verbally, by stringing together a series of compound words where the second word in a pair becomes the first word in another pair. Way cool!
My son is minoring in music at college, and I'm eager to learn what he knows, without the tuition and the tests. Last night he told me about pivot modulation, where the mth chord in a key is redefined as the nth chord in another key. He went on to tell me that Sage Francis sometimes uses this technique verbally, by stringing together a series of compound words where the second word in a pair becomes the first word in another pair. Way cool!
I'm gonna borrow that technique here, and make the last blog from my previous blogging experience serve as the second blog in this series. I started writing about my musical highs in e-mails a few years back, then found a couple of music-centric contexts in which to try blogging. From January 2004 to April 2005, I wrote as Low_Reed on the Musicians Connected web site; in August 2004 I wrote as Fringe Heartbeat, doing a music-focused blog for the MN Fringe Festival.
So here's my last blog (so far) as Low_Reed, to further introduce myself, my obsessions, and my bass clarinet (and to send props Leslie's way!):
My First Public Solo Gig |
| 5-7 minutes of fame at Leslie Ball's Cabaret |
| Earlier this week, someone posed the following question on the online Clarinet Bulletin Board (The Clarinet BBoard ): What was the first clarinet solo that you took to contest? Now, I was never a music major, nor did I play one on TV, but I have begun playing solo recently. So I began to respond, and then I kept responding, and my answer turned into a blog: My first solo experience happened last June, at the tender age of 53. This was the first time I played in front of a paying audience. It was a competition of sorts, as well: I competed with my stage fright and won! The venue was Leslie Ball's Cabaret at the Southern Theater in Minneapolis -- a Saturday midnight staple on the West Bank for the last thirteen years. The audition was the easy part: You had to have been a Cabaret audience member at least once before, to get the lay of the land. Then you had to be willing to get up on stage and do anything you wanted for 5-7 minutes. Well, I wanted to use my bass clarinet, an instrument I loved, to play some of the music that I loved. I had been recently reunited with my tall, dark, deep-voiced lover after a thirty-year separation. We had gotten reacquainted in the relative safety and comfort of a community band, where we blended in with the low brass. Now, we felt it was time to make a public statement about our growing commitment. I also wanted to explore new musical territory, and play some of the jazz, and blues, and ballads, and classic rock that had gotten under my skin during three decades of self-imposed bass clarinet celibacy. High school and college band was fun -- I played bass drum during marching seasons and bass clarinet during concert seasons. And I wore a kilt and played in the pipe band at my Scottish-oriented college. But my musical consumption during the next thirty years ran more toward the Doors, Willie Nelson, Leonard Cohen, Tom Waits, and Thelonius Monk. Never learned guitar or piano -- how could I possibly play any of this stuff? Well, I bought some clarinet, voice, and piano sheet music, did some transposing (via Finale software) and did some noodling around. Decided it was time to go public, but wanted some additional musical voicing to add texture and not be so exposed out there on the stage. So I recorded "me and my shadow" playing the second line of some jazz duets. For some other numbers, I used Finale as my piano accompanist and recorded that. Burned a CD, bought a portable battery powered speaker (a Fender Amp Can), and was ready to go. The night of our public commitment ceremony, my BC lover and I sat off by ourselves in the theater risers. We kept our arms wrapped around each other, and frequently swapped spit to reassure each other (and to keep the reed moist). Our turn came, and we stumbled down to the stage. As we set up the stand, the music, the CD player, the Amp Can, and the wires, we were given a very warm and calming introduction by Leslie, the gracious host and MC. We launched into our first number, "Well, You Needn't" by Thelonius Monk. Tentative at first, we gained confidence, due to the steady accompanying support of our own recorded voice. Got to the buildup and the long series of syncopated eighth notes, and kind of lost track for a bit. We were chagrined, but didn't think the audience noticed. Then we passed out lyric sheets, and had the audience help us out with our concluding number: Leonard Cohen / Jeff Buckley / Loudon Wainwright's "Hallelujah." This is a piece that really moves me. With shared breath and coordinated rhythm, my lover and I emoted this number along with the audience (about 25 people, including 5 family members and friends). All in all, it was a great night. My BC beauty and I got hooked on public displays of affection, and have been back to Ball's Cabaret a half-dozen more times, with more tunes and more elaborate equipment (including my homemade BuskMobile!). We've played in a couple of other venues as well. Recently we put together a demo CD and have been shopping it around at local coffeehouses and restaurants. Now, I'm not in it for the money, or the glory (good thing, too!). But I've realized in the last couple of years that "I've got the music in me, I've got the music in me, I've got the music in me!" And I'm having a blast letting it out, exploring it, and sharing musical Good Vibrations with anyone who'll listen! |
The Power of Music
The books are "Music, the Brain, and Ecstasy: How Music Captures Our Imagination" by Robert Jourdain, and "This is Your Brain on Music: The Science of a Human Obsession" by Daniel J. Levitin. Can't wait to explore them!
I plan to approach them more as reference books than as introductions or instruction manuals, because I believe that I'm no stranger to musical ecstacy. I'm not tootin' my own horn here (more on that later!). Rather, I lay the blame for my experiencing marvelous musical meanderings squarely at the feet of YOU people, who have intrigued and cajoled and pummeled and yanked and transported me through an amazing array of tonal progressions over the last several years.
So it is to you fellow music lovers and (one day I hope to be able to say "fellow...") musicians that I dedicate this blog.
Hello, World
Hey, people,
Do you like music? I do. In fact, I love it, crave it, need it, revel in it. Many genres, many voices, many sounds, rhythms, harmonies. My major criterion for liking a piece of music is this: Does it move me off center, away from emotional neutrality? Then I'm all ears.
I've decided to back into blogging by consolidating a smattering of posts from various forums over the last several years. So my next several posts will include (but not be limited to) re-posts of my musical meanderings from such sources as Facebook notes, MySpace blogs, e-mails, and www.MusiciansConnected.com (the last now sadly defunct).
Please feel free to comment. I thrive on shared musical joy.
P.S. Here’s me, 8+ years later, with a hot link to the url I posted in the first comment below:
http://www.bebopified.com/2011/06/bad-plus-play-stravinsky-concert-review.html
Do you like music? I do. In fact, I love it, crave it, need it, revel in it. Many genres, many voices, many sounds, rhythms, harmonies. My major criterion for liking a piece of music is this: Does it move me off center, away from emotional neutrality? Then I'm all ears.
I've decided to back into blogging by consolidating a smattering of posts from various forums over the last several years. So my next several posts will include (but not be limited to) re-posts of my musical meanderings from such sources as Facebook notes, MySpace blogs, e-mails, and www.MusiciansConnected.com (the last now sadly defunct).
Please feel free to comment. I thrive on shared musical joy.
P.S. Here’s me, 8+ years later, with a hot link to the url I posted in the first comment below:
http://www.bebopified.com/2011/06/bad-plus-play-stravinsky-concert-review.html
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