Entry #17 - The Cape Spear Project

Like much of the Sound Symposium, I have heard about the Cape Spear Project but have never attended one, until now. I was looking forward to it with much curiosity and anticipation.

Listening to the radio play "The Call" helped provide some perspective, but I still wasn't really sure what to expect. I don't know Moritz Eggert or his music, so the show was a complete surprise to me.

The opening with the car horns was great ("the Parking Lot Symphony") with the conductor standing in front of the car "ensemble" with his music stand and score. It was like Harbour Symphony meets late night drag race from Rebel Without A Cause.

Speaking of music stands, I felt SO bad for the poor girl in the miniskirt who was running around all night carring Moritz's music stand and keeping his score from blowing away all night. She worked harder than anyone all night, kneeling and squatting to keep her hands on those pages - and it was so windy, especially out on the point in the main bunker. I learned later that she wasn't there for that exact purpose, but happened to be part of the staff working the show. She was grabbed by Moritz to be his score-roadie for the entire night. She couldn't have been comfortable either, doing all that in a mini-skirt, not that I was checking her out. I hope they paid her well.

The way the event was explained, I thought there were different performances happening simultaneously, and all we had to do was go around and check them out at our leisure. So I went up the steps to the lighthouse and came down the other way, wishing to avoid the crowd, as I naturally tend to do anyway. This is where I came upon the Room of Echoes and the Room of Sound. However, when I made it over to the first gun battery, I had just missed the brass band performance. Blast it! This was when I realized that there was actually a linear progression of things, so I decided it would be better to follow the crowd after all. However, for the record, I just hate it when I'm told one thing and then something else entirely comes to pass. I know I'm a bit anal...I'm just sayin'.

The whole thing was pretty cool - I really liked the concept. I enjoyed the brass and percussion bands doing the marching music, and the guys in the gas masks carrying the Republic of Newfoundland flags (and the vuvuzelas - ha!) were a bit surreal (I like that sort of thing, though). The percussion piece and the final piece (this must have been "Breaking the Waves") were terrific, I thought. You could certainly hear the waves in the music. A bit repetitive, but once I realized that the music seemed to be evoking the endless, relentless push and pull of the waves hitting the rocks, again and again, since the beginning of time, then yeah, I was okay with it.

I though of the significance of this music, performed at the World War II bunkers by Newfoundlanders who surely had grandparents and other relatives who participated in the war effort (like mine did), being conducted by a German. I'm not saying this out of prejudice or bias. I just find the idea intriguing. Such a scene certainly would have been unthinkable in 1945. I'm glad we've come that far that we can try these things without opening old wounds or offending anybody (mostly).

Entry #16 - Yael Acher CD: La Belle Ombre

I listened to this album in the car today, driving home to Bay Roberts on a hot, sunny afternoon. I've never bought music like this before, so this was a bit of an experiment for me. I heard her perform the other night, but I wasn't sure if I would like her recording.

Turns out, I did like it, but I think I have to listen to it a couple of times to really "get" it. I found it atmospheric, with a certain coldness yet signs of a current of intense passion running underneath. I'm not sure exactly why I say it like that. Perhaps the electronic effects leave me a bit cold - I hear textures and soundscapes, but not really musical "ideas" (in the classical sense anyway).

I'm glad that Yael started her Wednesday night set with some Bach, then a Debussy piece. This seemed to me a little more "warm-blooded" yet still reflective. Hearing her do that helped put her recording in perspective for me. I'm sure elements of coldness and darkness in music are not lost on her (she titled her album "The Beautiful Shadow," after all). I've never breally been a huge fan of the flute, either. But I do like this disc. Now I'd like to hear her with a fusion band, or at least a rhythm section.

Entry #15 - My Harbour Symphony is performed

Saturday was an exciting day for me - I heard the performance of my Harbour Symphony. This is the first time I have ever heard others perform something I composed!

Delf was very kind to program my piece today. He had mentioned "doubling up" but I think his rationale was the fact that I am doing the 7806 course. That was very kind, and I greatly appreciate it, just as I appreciate the Harbour Symphony CD that he gave me, and was such an inportant source for this blog and my presentation.

So, on the sunniest day we've had all damn week, "Blowin' in the Fog" was heard for the first time. I attended the waterfront rehearsal (I had to, y'know?). Delf asked if the composer wished any special directions to follow - I replied only that it would be nice if part 1 could be highest in pitch, and part 6 the lowest. Otherwise, I was fine with however it came out. Turns out that we had 6 boats, two of them with 2 horns, making 8 horns available, the most we had for any piece all week. As the poet Homer would say, Woo-hoo! I followed Delf over to the southside hills, and joined him near his favourite recording spot, to make my own recording. Here's a little snippet:



A better quality recording, made by Delf, can be found here:

http://www.soundsymposium.com/images/archives/audio/HS-GordonKing_Jul10_0033.mp3

It sounded ABSOLUTELY NOTHING like what I had imagined. How could it, after all? The biggest factor in this was the time delay, which I had forgotten about. The short, quarter note pulses were actually detached (because they were coming from different ends of the harbour) but I liked how it sounded! If I wrote another one, I could use that effect on purpose. I guess experience really is the best teacher.

There it is! My first composition - now receiving comissions!

Seriously, it was a truly great and fun experience. I'd recommend anyone musical to give it a try.

Entry #14 - Daniel Payne workshop

The first thing you notice about Daniel Payne when you see him up close and personal is how friggin' tall he is! It doesn't come across when he's performing onstage, esp. when he spends so much time sitting down to play his fiddle, accordion or wooden flute. But talking to him one on one, I felt like I had to stand up as straight as possible just to look him in the eye. And I'm not exactly short either!

I have heard about this guy for years, and this week was my first encounter with him. Not only is he a terrific performer, and put aside for a moment the fact that he is a walking encyclopedia of not just Newfoundland traditional music, but that of all corners of the world - Daniel Payne is a really nice, sincere, humble, unpretentious guy. Very nice guy. Takes his music and his craft seriously but doesn't take himself too seriously at all. Engaging, accomodating, helpful, only too happy to explain, elaborate, enlighten.



He began with some accordion playing, and spoke a bit about his Castagnari. He described his approach to playing; the fact that he likes to be a bit "more melodic" with his bass buttons intrigued me. I thought of Paul McCartney's bass playing with the Beatles, how that flowing bassline can drive a song forward, or just help it "float" along nicely. I'm glad Daniel didn't hesitate to speak using musician's lingo. Sometimes you have to get a bit technical to be clear. A couple of mods he's added: he had the left thumb button moved to make it more ergonomic, and he removed some reeds to take out the third of the chord in the bass buttons, allowing him to switch from major to minor in the treble without clashing chord tones. Plus, he removed the brass feet because they're "heavy as hell."

Next, he picked up the fiddle, played a tune, and talked about the two years he spent in Ireland, cutting his teeth as a fiddler, playing dances, etc. and just learning all he could. He pointed out that when he came home to Cow Head and played West Coast of Newfoundland tunes, using "Irishisms" as quick little 3 and 5-note runs, they didn't fit the West Coast tunes. This was when he became aware of the stylistic differences between these two schools of playing.

A Rufus Guinchard tune sounds "off" when filled with these little decorations. A big part of a Rufus tune, however, is sitting down and stomping both feet, a tradition that originated from playing for square dancers. Coincidentally, I heard Kelly Russell explain the exact same thing at a concert not even two weeks ago: you had to stomp your feet just to be heard over the dancers. Rufus also liked to end a tune by double-stopping it with the 4th degree of the scale, which sounds cool. Whether he meant to imply a IV chord or just thought it sounded cool, who knows? It sounds like Rufus was the Jeff Beck of the fiddle.



Finally he got to the wooden flute - I'm not normally into flute, but I find the wooden flute intriguing, and I like the sound. Daniel's flute comes from Windward in Nova Scotia, who are Forbes and Yola Christie, a husband-and-wife team of instrument makers. Daniel spoke very highly of their approach, their desire to improve, and their consultation with Daniel and other artists to get things just right. He spoke so sincerely and passionately about his collaboration with the Christies that I decided to check out their website:

http://www.windwardflutes.com/index.html

Daniel concluded with a flute tune, and I went to chat with him a bit after. I mentioned a guy out in my area, Gerry Strong, who is a local musician and folkie, known for his own wooden flute playing. Daniel knew all about him, knew exactly the type of flute, its range and what it could do! This guy knows everybody! As I said, a walking encyclopedia of things traditional and musical. Someone to watch.

Entry #13 - Improv workshop

I was interested to see how this would go today, as I am considering doing my final 7806 paper on something improv-related. In fact, I know I need to do some serious thinking about my topic; improvisation is awfully broad topic, and it can mean different things to many people.

Patrick has said several times that musicians are often reluctant to talk about improvisation. I have found the same thing, but I'm not sure why. Perhaps it's because they don't quite know what to say.

Today was helpful because Patrick presented several concepts that I may be able to use. The "directed" improv (and the hand signals) looks like something I would like to experiment with in my own teaching. Especially valuable of course was the opportunity to try these ideas out with other players (myself and Darryl Cremasco on pianos, Aaron Hodgson on trumpet and Darren McDonald on trombone). I could have stayed playing with these guys for another hour or so to try some things out.

Shortly into some of the two- and three-part improv 20 second "moments" I realized that I'm quite used to improvising ON MY OWN. I have precious little experience when it comes to improvising with other players. How many times have I played a church service or some function, when all of a sudden I'm called upon to fill some space? At the drop of a hat? And I don't mean suddenly launching into "Misty" in E flat - I've actually composed music on the spot...only to forget it completely when it's over.

At one point Patrick mentioned a concept that I caught on to right away: in group improv you are either leading, following or accompanying. I thought about this for a second and realized, that's right. It really is one of those three things that takes place when you play in group improv.

If I decide I have a musical idea and I'm just going to let it out no matter what else it going on, that's leading. If I respond to some kind of motive that another player puts out there (like I was starting to do with Darryl at one point) then that's following.

Accompanying isn't following; to me it's more like putting out a support that doesn't have its own melodic independence (that would be leading) - I have always thought of it as creating a kind of texture, something I've done in my own playing many, many times.

I've been teaching music in schools for almost a decade now. I've seen kids who have become brilliant improvisers on electric guitar, bass and drums (and they didn't need any help from me, I can tell you), yet I'm still waiting to see it happen on saxophone, trumpet, or any of the other string, brass or woodwind instruments. I suspect it may not be this way in the city, but this is how it is around the bay. This question has intrigued me for some time now - what is it that the jammers are doing that the others are not? Besides jamming?

Lately I wonder if the answer is right in front of me.

Entry #12 - Overtone Singing workshop

I knew Tran Quang Hai was a special person from the moment I first saw him downtown at the Harbour Symphony on Tuesday. In the rehearsal he gave the most animated, energetic performance of his part. We were all in stitches...laughing with him, of course. Last night at the LSPU, Frank Pahl described him as "someone who puts every bit of himself into everything he does." So I was very happy to be in attendance at his workshop today.

The thing that made it very cool was his Overtone Analyzer running on his laptop and projecting onto the large screen. Not only could you hear the overtones in the special throat technique that he does, you could see them too. He demonstrated with this big, deep, guttural growl, and then the overtones would appear; you could see them on the screen and hear them, CLEAR AS A BELL. Amazing.

He made shaped on the screen, nice even pyramids as the overtones went up, then down. Then he spelled the word "MINIMUM."

Tran Quang Hai involved everyone present in the activities. He asked us all to sit in the center so everyone could hear each other. He invited each of us, one at a time, to make a pyramid, advising us: "Don't think too much about what you're trying to do...just do it!"

Some got it right away, a few struggled to make their pyramids. Darryl Cremasco made a beautiful, symmetrical pyramid. Mine came out more like a sandcastle that just got washed away by a wave. Frank Pahl made a strong, bright yellow pyramid (meaning he produced a lot of volume). Geoff Panting made an Eiffel Tower.

There is really something to this. I just wish I worked in an environment where it could be useful. I can't see teaching this to my high school choir. Although my first attempts weren't great, I feel I could do it properly, with enough practice. In fact, whenever my turn would come up today, it was hard not to feel self-conscious about trying it, but sometimes you just have to fight through that feeling and give it a chance, right?

It seems that all the clinicians I've heard this week have some sort of tour de force ending to their workshops. For Tran Quang Hai it was his rendition of Beethoven's Ode to Joy in overtones...and he absolutely nailed it.

The best part for me came after the presentation ended. Darryl and I were discussing Jew's Harps with a gentleman (don't know his name) and Tran Quang Hai came over and said "Would you like to see my collection of Jew's Harps?" He had a whole case of the most amazing contraptions, and demonstrated each one for us. A small group gathered around. Some of the small instruments were Chinese, Vietnamese, some were in small fancy cases. One he had even made himself out of a phone card (can you hear me now?) and he played them all with great flair.

Entry #11 - Yael Acher-Modiano

I met Yael Acher downtown on Monday when we played her Harbour Symophony. She is a very warm, friendly person, and I'm glad I got to see her perform last night at the Quidi Vidi Brewing Company. She opened with the first two movements of the 2nd Bach Cello Suite in D minor...this was a real treat for me as I love the cello suites; I've just never heard them rendered on flute before. This was followed by a Debussy piece, which she played back with effects and improvised over what she had previously played.

Her setup was not unlike that of some guitarists: Digitech pedalboard, with a rack of effects off to the side. I heard echoes, delay and a harmonizer, among other things. She played Charles Mingus's "Goodbye Pork Pie Hat," again with the effects, which I thought sounded cool. She told us it was composed by Mingus in memory of a great jazz player who had died at the time, but she's couldn't remember his name. I hope I didn't come across as an ass when I called out "Lester Young!" Just tryin' to help.

Yael closed her brief set by inviting Curtis Andrews and Kurai Mubaiwa to play along with Duke Ellington's "Caravan" (actually composed by Juan Tizol). Kurai took out some shakers and Curtis looked around for a suitable 'instrument.' A few seconds later, he had a Quidi Vidi Brewing Co. crate in his hands, and they started to play. It was great. I had a very nice chat with Yael afterwards; very engaging, friendly, and surprisingly concerned that her Bach and Debussy had gone over okay! Well...duh!