Gratitude List 1874

(1) It’s been good coming back to the church and singing in the Choir. There were musical presentations on Good Friday and Easter Sunday. Our new music director is very poised and eloquent, and I am proud of Ian, our accompanist, who was one of the Kids on my team throughout the pandemic.

(2) About my musical Eden in Babylon, I finished all the Act 1 Scene 2 tracks on Friday morning, and now have the first two scenes “synced” — tracks, script & vocal score. What am I most grateful for is that, when I announced at the Recovery Center that I had finished, the announcement was received with gladness, as something meaningful. It’s great to have supportive people in my life.

(3) Though I seem to have lost Keva to roller derby–at least temporarily–I find myself as amazed at her athletic prowess as I am of her musicianship. It’s good to have this disciplined, professional person in my world.

(4) I couldn’t find my power cord and it turned out to be at the Artista Cafe. I couldn’t find my headphones, and they were also at the Artista Cafe. The lady who owns the place told me: “Don’t worry, Andy, we’ve got you covered.” A far cry from Berkeley, where both of those items would have been stolen within minutes after my similar acts of absent-mindedness.

(5) It’s good to have made good friends in this life. Some have turned out only to be fair weather, but this only makes the ones with mutual loyalty stand out all the more. Grateful for the strong healthy friendships I am blessed to have made, throughout my days.

Nothing makes the earth seem so spacious as to have friends at a distance; they make the latitudes and longitudes. -Henry David Thoreau

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Tuesday Tuneup 122

Q. Where would you like to be?

A. In a place of greater integrity.

Q. Is something compromising your integrity?

A. Yes. But I must say, the sense of compromise is much less pronounced than it was a week ago.

Q. What happened a week ago?

A. I began sequencing the tracks for Scene Two.

Q. And this distanced you from the sense of compromise?

A. It reminded me of the strength of my integrity. For one week, I did nothing but sequence these tracks. As I sequenced them, I thought not of pleasing anyone in particular, but only of doing it right–according to my integrity.

Q. Would someone want you to have done it wrong?

A. It would seem so, yes.

Q. How so?

A. Like many other numbers in this show, the main number in Scene Two–The Age of Nevermore–suggests it be presented in a large hall. One imagines rock instruments and a live band, pumping out the sounds. But as far as I know, only one theatre company, having a very small house, has stated an interest in producing the show.

Q. Too small to include a rock band?

A. Much too small. In fact, too small to include any band at all, even the smallest ensemble. This is why the pre-recorded performance tracks are so useful.

Q. They don’t take up as much space as a band?

A. They take up about as much space as a link to a url on a desktop.

Q. Then so what if it sounds all rocked out? You can just adjust the volume to suit the small house, can’t you?

A. I suppose so.

Q. Then why not go for it?

A. It just feels like compromise.

Q. Aren’t you being a bit fussy?

A. Maybe.

Q. Why kick a gift horse in the mouth?

A. Okay – it’s not going to be the perfect production, if it even happens at all. But there’s another sense in which someone doesn’t want me to do this thing right. That’s the sense in which they don’t want me to do it at all.

Q. What do you mean?

A. I made noise about a manic episode. A doctor diagnosed me Bipolar and put me on Lithium. I’m supposed to be taking care of my health, not slaving away over musical tracks.

Q. Can’t you do both?

A. That’s what I’m trying to do. And that’s why I feel a relative increase in integrity. I did finish the tracks–at least good enough for this stage. A number of those sounds will eventually be replaced by live instruments. And some will be removed, in accompaniment of singing. I did remove a lot though already, and–

Q. Wait, wait–you mean that within the past week, you suddenly took off and did what you thought you should do, despite what you think they think you should do?

A. Yes.

Q. Isn’t that huge?

A. Sure it is. But it’s also connected to another factor.

Q. What’s that?

A. In the past week, I’ve stopped taking my Lithium.

Q. Why?

A. It was creating a highly uncomfortable and inconvenient urinary challenge. A few days after I stopped, my plumbing returned to normal.

Q. What about your head?

A. What about it?

Q. Isn’t the whole point of the Lithium to take care of your head?

A. I suppose so. But when I was taking care of my head, was I writing any music?

Q. I don’t know, were you?

A. No. I had no creativity. No drive.

Q. And now you do?

A. Yes.

Q. But if you don’t take the med, how can you get your job back?

A. I don’t know. I just have to be honest with them. If I don’t get it back, I don’t get it back.

Q. And you’re okay with that?

A. Well–I’m not okay with compromising my excellent physical health and fitness for the sake of taking a head drug that might help my stability and definitely decreases my creativity. For me, that’s compromising my integrity. Both my integrity and my health are more important than the job.

Q. But are they more important than your getting your musical produced?

A. That, my friend, is an excellent question.

The Questioner is silent.

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Gratitude List 1626

(1) Thankful for the phenomenon known as “sleep” and for a safe place in which to obtain it. On three hours sleep, staring at all those black musical notes on a Finale template, they might as well have been a bunch of flies I was supposed to be swatting. What happened after six more hours of fine, unadulterated sleep? The picture is considerably prettier.

(2) After a good third session of pastoral counseling this afternoon, I find myself thankful for the current overload. At least it’s not an “underload” — an idle brain being the devil’s playground, and all that.

(3) Thankful for a very positive friendship with my one and only daughter. How many dads can claim that they get to talk to their daughters every single day? Maybe more than I know, but I still feel very fortunate, and blessed.

(4) Thankful for the good friends I’ve made and kept throughout my life. About to catch up with my friend Holly down in California by telephone. Good to have friends.

(5) Thankful for the cooler temperatures lately, it being only 58F degrees right now, though it’s three in the afternoon. I no longer have to restrict my daily exercise to the early morning or late evening hours. Looking forward to a nice run, round about four. Life is good. :)

” Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think on these things.” — Philippians 4:8

Babylon Interactive

I want to let you all know that I’ve got a playlist now on SoundCloud that will automatically pull up the interactive score to the musical I’ve been working on.   Feedback is welcome — I’m not exactly sure how viable the instrumentation is.   If I want to easily translate it to a live pit orchestra with “real” musicians, this arrangement probably is not optimum.   It does have an interesting, ethereal sound to it, however.

The thing I keep struggling with is the awareness that when I “received” this music, I was walking about the various outdoor venues of the Berkeley, California area, fully believing that the correct orchestrations were as absolute as the music itself, and that all these sounds were coming from Beyond, having originated in a realm of musical consciousness far greater than the confines of my relatively minute human intellect.

The more powerful that memory, the greater the sense in which I feel this music is cheapened by the arbitrary addition of synthetic sounds only remotely related to the real live musicianship that seems to be called for.  On the other hand, when the music was originally being “given” to me, I “heard” it involving sounds that I identified as being of a timbre tantamount to that of a tenor saxophone and a viola soloist.   So my choice to employ tenor sax and viola in my arrangements was not arbitrary.   It’s an attempt to best replicate that which I have already heard. 

The problem with this is that, while it may indeed provide adequate background for singers presenting an interactive production online, it would be difficult to rectify those sounds as being suitable within the typical pit orchestra of a Broadway-type musical.  I could replace them with an increased focus on electric guitars and keyboard-synth, and thus render the interactive orchestration compatible with that of a real-live pit orchestra — one with a rock ensemble flair — but if I do so, I sacrifice the beauty of the expressive tenor sax and viola sounds, as authentically replicating the ethereal sounds that I heard.

One thing to note is that instruments like saxophones and violas are generally found as parts of larger jazz or classical ensembles.  While we do hear sax solos in jazz and other genres, we don’t often hear viola solos.  More often, the viola is a part of a string section.  So I might as well add a wind section, a string section, and a brass section for that matter, if I’m going to involve such instruments.  They sound out of character when played together without some bolstering or support from instruments of their kind.

However, all of this has to do with idiom.  That is, because the ear is not accustomed to hearing passages that involve a sax and a viola harmonizing in descending cascades such as we hear in Sirens of Hope, it rejects the application of those instruments as bizarre.  They don’t match the typical pairing of instruments — a single brassy wind like that, with a solitary stringed instrument in the midrange.  And yet, were we to have such instrumentalists in a pit with ample miking and the like, we could lift their sounds to levels akin the other players – the drummer, the bass, the guitarist and the like.

A final thing to consider is that when the music was being directed my way, it was not with the idea that human musicians were playing it in whatever Ethereral Realm of the Beyond it was emanating from.  Seriously!  The distinct impression I got was that it was being performed in such a way that transcended mere human musicianship.   And if this is the case, then certainly the employment of the software is excusable.  To the ears of the ethereal, human instruments, human devices, and human programs are all one and the same.  They are all equally non-divine.

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Tuesday Tuneup 73

Q. What’s going on inside?

A. Conviction.

Q. You’ve been convicted of a crime?

A. Not that kind of conviction.

Q. What kind, then?

A. Spiritual conviction.

Q. Can you elaborate?

A. I’m convicted!  Does the word mean nothing to you?

Q. Why should it?

A. Weren’t you around during the 80’s?

Q. What happened during the 80’s?

A. There was a massive movement throughout America, I guess it started in the late 70’s.  35% of Americans began identifying themselves as “born again Christian” — and they were markedly more conservative than the average voter.

Q. What’s this got to do with conviction?

A. It became Christian slang for a person to say there were “convicted” when they believed that the Spirit was impressing upon them some thing that they should or should not do.

Q. Isn’t that more like guilt?

A. Not exactly.  One can feel guilty even if one has done nothing wrong.   There are many sources of guilt, and not all of them are positive.

Q. But conviction is always positive?

A. Yes.

Q. Well then!  What are you convicted about?

A. Gee, I thought you’d never ask.

Q. Are you convicted you’ve been doing something wrong?  Or convicted that you haven’t been doing something right?

A. Both.  But the latter seems more salient, and to the point.

Q. What is that you ought to be doing right?

A. Something that doesn’t come natural to me.  But every sign is pointing that I do it.

Q. But what is it?

A. I hesitate to say.

Q. Why?

A. I’ll sound weird.

Q. Cold feet?

A. Heebie jeebies.

Q. WHAT IS IT??

A. I’m supposed to take on these — um — roles.  In the community here.  One is that of being a mediator.   Another, a mentor.

Q. Mediator?  Mediator over what?

A. I seem to have been selected to smooth relations between two neighboring businesses.

Q. Why you?

A. Because I am involved in both businesses, one on a volunteer basis, and one as a hanger-outer in a coffee shop.

Q. What is the essence of the tension between the two establishments?

A. Culture clash.   You see, the people next door from the coffee house are involved in trying to get their lives back together.   A lot of them  have been on drugs, or on the streets, or otherwise severely traumatized.  Some of them have serious mental health conditions.   The point is, many of them come across in confusing ways that don’t fit the social norms.

Q. But they’re good people, right?

A. Absolutely!  It’s just that the people in the coffee house don’t necessarily know that.

Q. What are the people in the coffee house like?

A. Quiet, studious, and reserved.

Q. And the people from the place next door?

A. Loud, boisterous, and unrefined.  

Q. So you’re supposed to be a go-between?

A. Yes.  I’m supposed to gently tell them not to be too loud around the coffee house, or cuss too much, or refer to themselves and others in derogatory terms.   And I’m supposed to explain and defend them to the baristas who may feel uneasy in their presence.

Q. Well, isn’t this a good thing?

A. Well, yeah.  It’s better than if the owners had decided just to kick them out of the coffeehouse.  But it’s still a strange position for me to be in.  I have no experience in this area.

Q. So how will you go about this?

A. One step at a time.

Q. Will you wear a badge?

A. Not on your life.  

Q. What about the mentoring?

A. That’s a little more down my alley.   You see, this guy died last month.  A dear friend of mine.  Here’s a picture of him:

Paul Anders

Q. Wasn’t he a little young to die?

A. Young like mid-50’s.  Fit, healthy, vibrant.  Paul caught some kind of flu, turned to pneumonia, turned to a staph infection, then sepsis – and he was gone in about ten days.  He was a great musician – and a great guy.  It shocked the entire community, and left a great void.

Q. What’s this got to do with mentoring?

A. Paul was a mentor and a role model for many of the younger musicians in the community.  He played about ten different instruments, freely played music with all, and encouraged all musicians to embrace and develop their full potential.

Q. And you are supposed to do this in his stead?

A. No one can replace Paul.  But I get this sense that I’m supposed to break out of my shell somewhat, and contact some of the musicians, and see if I can be of help in any way.  In fact, there’s these two brothers who play music — they’re both in their early to mid twenties, and one of them is a fantastic bass player.  Their dad actually approached me.  He said point blank that I am the one to fulfill this role.

Q. How does that make you feel?

A. Honored.   And like I said, convicted.

Q. Almost guilty?   Or afraid, maybe?

A. Only because I’ve never done it before.   

Q. Is that really true, Andy?

A. Well — not for a long time.  I used to be a music teacher, and a musical director for musical theatre productions.   I saw that the kids looked up to me, and I enjoyed passing off my knowledge as best I could.

Q. Then what happened?

A. I think you know what happened.  But let’s just say I was no longer in the position where anybody would see me as either a mentor or a mediator.

Q. But now they do?

A. Somehow, yes — however magically.

Q. So what are you going to do about this conviction?

A. I’m gonna just do it.  I called the bass player, and we’re going to jam at my place on Saturday.   Paul’s 26 year old daughter, herself a singer-songwriter, is going to show up later on this morning with her guitar.

Q. Why does this seem strange to you?  I mean, you’re a musician, right?

A. If you want the truth, the reason I feel so convicted is that it’s making me realize what a self-preoccupied egomaniac I have been throughout most of the past fifteen years.  I’ve lived largely in my head, and not in the world of people.  It started when I was — homeless.  The world of people was too painful to face continually.  So I developed my inner creative world to a new peak, in order to block out the pain of the world around me.

But now, in the world around me — at least in my immediate community — there is very little pain.   Yet for over 3 1/2 years, I’ve persisted in living in my head.  This will give me a chance to get out of my head, and do good things for others, for a change.

Q. And how does that make you feel?

A. It makes me feel good.  Today is the first day in forever that my restless spirit has been at peace.    

The Questioner is silent.

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A little bit goes a long, long way. 

 

A Difficult but Just Decision

Even after the Good Cop Bad Cop maneuver, only six out of twelve showed up on Friday’s rehearsal.   That, on top of other factors, has caused me and Dave to make the decision cited in the email below:

Team:

We have come to the difficult decision to postpone our reading of Eden in Babylon. After a couple of weeks of cast fluctuations, some difficulty with scheduling and a hard look at our current workloads and available resources, it makes sense for us to step back to reduce the stress and to be sure to give this piece the attention it deserves. The hiatus will give us an opportunity to find additional collaborators to help us with logistics. And it will give Andy time to finish up the scoring and materials to help teach and learn the music most effectively.

At this point we don’t have a new target date for the reading. We’ll let you know as we know more. You’ll all be on our list when we get ready to put together a cast in the future.

Thank you all for the work you’ve done. We truly appreciate it. We will keep in touch as we look for the right time to do this show.

Thanks again,

Dave and Andy

The wording is Dave’s after a lengthy discussion, and he and I are in agreement.  Not only will this give me two months distance from a situation in which my overloaded, all-over-the-map semblance was promoting a loose and chaotic atmosphere, but it will clearly communicate to the Kids who have been screwing around that we mean business with this thing, and they can’t just take my kindness for weakness.  A lot of the Street Kids were like that, too. They saw me as a pushover, and that shit’s gotta stop.  The ones who are good know who they are.  Their loyalty will be not be forgotten.

Please donate to Eden in Babylon.
A little bit goes a long, long way.