CMAS and the Search for Ensmble

Tonight was the first ever CMAS stadium show, and it was just beyond wonderful.  I am so proud of the entire program, that I really do not know where to begin.  There is so much to cover that I think it likely that I will do a series of articles to get it all out over time in the, I hope, not too distant future.

That said, there is one element that stands out to me that I had been suspecting for a while now, but tonight showed me that my instincts were, in fact, very gratefully, correct: there is a true sense of large ensemble within the program.

ensemble (noun):

1. all the parts of a thing taken together, so that each part is considered only in relation to the whole.

2. in music: the united performance of an entire group

Over the years, as the CMAS program has evolved, we've pretty much been able to prove any educational or musical criticism of the program to be wrong. Very wrong.  The only one that I have ever felt might have had some validity was a comment that for all the benefits of CMAS, the one thing the students cannot get in program is a true sense of ensemble.  Specifically, large ensemble.  

To be fair, part of me had to agree.  After all, though we have a vast number of smaller groups (most of the bands are 3-5 members) that larger sense did seem a bit absent.  On the other hand, there was always this feeling in my gut that we just had not crossed the threshold yet on this subject and there was every bit a large ensemble aspect to CMAS as much as any music program of any kind anywhere.  It just had not been presented properly.

Well tonight, it turns out, among all the other accomplishments, was the very tangible proof that the CMAS paradigm evolves this aspect of traditional music programs too.  Significantly.  I have had the honor and pleasure of leading any number of large "traditional" music ensembles over the years, in a vast array of concerts and events.  What I can now tell you is that in CMAS that exact same feeling of large ensemble exists.  Very, very prominently.  At the end of the stadium show tonight the entire program clearly felt exactly the way a large band or orchestra feels after a great performance.  There was absolutely no difference.  The benefits from the experience, at heart were even identical.  The group has to find a way to take all of the best aspects of everyone's efforts and create a collective result that all involved can feel not only proud of, but that they were in fact a key and integral part of the performance's success.  That they as a part, allowed the sum total to be far greater than the individual.  

CMAS more than proved that to be the case tonight.  In fact, in some ways they eclipsed the "traditional" ensembles in this because it's not what you might expect from the CMAS experience.  It's not necessarily the obvious result or benefit of the CMAS experience.  But it is there, and significantly.  And now that we know it for certain, CMAS, I can promise, will be taking it farther than could every be expected from any other musical experience - just like they do everything else.

As you can tell I am beyond over the moon over this.  I am just so proud to be a part of this musical journey called CMAS.  It is such a thrill and an honor.

More soon, including some more picts and video from tonight.  Amazing stuff.  I am so proud of the entire program.  Just wonderful! 

Remix, rethink, remaster... REDEUX!: How going back can help to move forward

Over the past several years since I have released any new music, several significant things have happened. Beyond the more important ones like lots of Gray-and-daddy time and Tanner arriving, I have also made some very serious changes in my entire approach to to producing music and general audio engineering. A lot of those changes have coincided with the formal adoption of the Contemporary Music And Sound (CMAS) program, and a lot have evolved out of what I feel is just a very natural progression towards such things. The other major factor has likely been my development of a very strong sense that the real beauty of being an independent musician, is just that: the independence to do what you feel is best. Certainly there are endless drawbacks, but if there is one true benefit it is the complete artist freedom I am afforded.

The fact is that I have never been truly pleased with the end result of many of my past recordings. Much of that dissatisfaction can easily be attributed to my, admittedly not always helpful, refusal to ever be satisfied that anything I do is "perfect." (I have a pretty hard time "letting go," but that is another topic) but much of if is also rooted in aural reality. Songs are good, songs are bad, but the production has tended to get in the way and not, in my view consistently, allowed the music to stand on its own - good or bad.

So as I began to finalize the writing of my next project of original material (working title is "Lift) I started to take a look at the older stuff as well to see how I wanted to apply my new production techniques to the new recordings. While doing that I found that it would not take too much effort to go back and "redo" (Redeux?) the production and get many of those old tracks into the aural shape they deserved to be in. It's kind of a going-back-in-order-to-go-forward kind of thing, but it has already proven very useful.  "Redeux" is not really about re-recording or re-tracking, it's more about re-thinking the production.  Certainly this may cause arrangements, and some other aspects, to change but I think on balance it will all be for the better.

The "Redeux" project will actually be a series of releases. I am not entirely certain how "Lift" will fit into the overall time line, but it'll be along soon as well, and if nothing else, will certainly be worth the wait. I feel the material on "Lift" is the strongest I've ever written, but in truth, as I said above, I am not convinced that I was ever able to give the earlier material its proper due to allow it to stand on its own. Again, the Redeux project is now making that possible.

The first release of Redeux will be from the more recent material that appeared on "Ties" and "Pulse" and a few others. The second will be the entire "Fade" CD from back in 2004 that featured Michele on vocals. For many reason I cannot wait for you to hear those tracks "redone" (Redeuxed?) For a very long time I thought that all the "Fade" sessions were lost forever do to a failed hard drive but just recently I was able to restore the session data and so am really excited to hear what comes of it - Michele's vocals alone are gonna just blow everyone away. There is a possibility of a third release as part of "Redeux," which would be going all the way back and examine the sessions for a "bootleg" from many many years ago that actually still sells well for me called "093003." If we get lucky, as we did with "Fade," to find a way to restore the sessions from the old hard drive, then we can make that third release happen as well. I am cautiously optimistic.

As ever, things all seem to be happening at once, but it's all good. Very good. And now it's back to work...

Pandora's Box: How the greatest CMAS concert (so far) might also be its worst

Two weeks ago tonight CMAS held its final concert of the 2009-2010 season.  It was, in a word, amazing. I don't say that lightly at all.  It was a culmination of so many factors into a single, successful evening of music that I am still a bit dumbfounded over the entire thing.

The evening consisted of over 120 minutes of all original. all student produced and performed music; and the show itself (also, all student produced) was about as over the top as anything I have ever seen anywhere.  I suppose the most notable addition was a 25 foot high, 40 foot wide, video projection system behind the performer - thanks once again to Harkins Theatres for all the continued support (Dan Harkins is, as always, beyond kind - Kirk Griffin, their chief engineer, as well - more on them another time).  It was stunning.  Just stunning to see it all come together.  And it was an absolute triumph for all involved, and an certainly a  huge honor for me to be part of it.

But here's the thing - and I have been justifiably accused of destroying some professional relationships over this kind of thing - to me, as high as the bar has now been set, we can still do it far better.  I'll save the specifics of how for another time, but it's the general concept that got me writing here: the potential Pandora's box of expextaitons.

While the show on 5/20/10 was beautiful, it was also the first time we had put in so many of the elements that I know we can do all of them far better if we simply are willing to not only look objectively, but also take the needed, and in many cases, fairly simple steps to significantly build upon what we have already done.  And this is the part that has been a death-knell for some of my professional relationships: perfection is a great goal, but it is not actually attainable. Being satisfied is akin to promoting the status quo, and I simply do not believe in status quo.  Things are either getting better, or getting worse.  Those are the only two options.  No exceptions.  Staying the same is akin to getting worse as far as I am concerned.

Yes, acknowledge the accomplishments and revel in the successes as they happen; but I firmly believe that every time you take another step closer to "perfect," the bar of that perfection moves that much further up as well.  At the point at which the bar stops moving, or worse, you are satisfied, it is time to stop.  Needless to say, many of my professional acquaintances over the years have not been able to hold a similar view.  My "arrogance" on this topic makes me feel only bad for them.  To be fair though, the relationships that suffered the most over this kind of thing were with people who I would describe as very "unmusical;" very non-creative - though, and again, I freely admit the arrogance of this statement, they think they are musical and creative, but clearly are not.  That said, I am not sure I am actually a "pure" personality of music and creativity either - even though I'd like to be.  But, as usual, I digress.

Back to the Pandora's box:  The further we push these shows, the greater the expectation is from our audience.  That is not a bad thing - not at all.  But as we start the 2010-2011 season in a few short months I wonder if the audience will allow for the learning curve that is needed over the course of the total season on the part of the students. The audience, perhaps ironically, and perhaps without realizing it, is actually in line with my view of perfection.  The question is will they allow the trials and time needed to get us to take those next steps.  If they do, the truth is that despite this amazing last show, they have not seen anything yet - I can safely say that there are at least four more major evolutions to the show coming in the not too distant future - not that I will give any details away here and/or now - to saw nothing of the studio progressions that will soon eclipse the shows.

If the audience does not, well there's the Pandora's box for you.  The only way to ensure we make it happen and give the audience what they not only want, but deserve, is to consciously keep moving forward.  Can't allow ego or arrogance to get in the way.  Call it like it is and move forward.  Keep pushing.  Always.  It's not about besmirching the efforts or reputations of anyone - like I said, revel in the well deserved successes as they come along - but if you stay there too long (and I define "too long" as the moment a single element is found to be vialbe for specific improvement) then you are back to status quo.  And then, really, what's the point?

I am so proud that the bulk of the CMAS program's students resist status quo - whether they know it or not.  They resist taking the striving for improvement as arrogance.  They seem to see it for what it is: the continuing search for bettering the end result.  Maybe the lesson really is that the Pandora's box is really just that: a box.  Keep yourself "outside the box" and the box really cannot have any impact.

Joy versus fun

The list of former teachers of mine who were far kinder and patient with me than I deserved is surely staggering.  One of the more significant (to be fair, there are certainly many) is Robert Billups.  Actually, Dr. Robert Billups, but I recall he had an aversion to such monikers - yet another important lesson he taught me.  I knew Bob while at the University of Arizona in the mid-1990s.  He was one of my conducting professors (the other was Gregg Hanson - whom along with Bob, rank as tow of the most musically pure people I have ever known.)

Anyway, Bob was the director of the U of A orchestras, briefly, till he had to take an eventually permanent leave of absence due to some medical issues.  I was lucky enough to be one of his TAs for a bit of time, and he really opened up a whole  new perspective of music to me.  But of all the lessons I learned with him the one I still hold dearest is also the one that was the most subtle.  In fact, I don't ever remember actually talking about it with him in any of our countless conversations.  And yet, as I look back, I cannot help but always come to it. The lesson was simply this:  Joy. 

Bob always struck me as pretty scholarly.  Like Gregg, he always seemed very musically wise and always, always a least one step ahead of me - usually several.  But over time I have come to have a far different image in my head when I think of Bob: the joyous, beaming smile.  Particularly when conducting.

It took me years of growing up to feel like I had even a cursory understanding of it, and even now I am not certain that I am there yet.  Bob literally radiated joy when he was on the podium.  It was simply undeniable, and, I now realize, strikingly infectious.  No matter the quality of the sound created, it seemed impossible to leave one of Bob's rehearsals feeling bad.  You just could not do it.  The joy was too palpable.

On the other hand, I recall several times, after running a rehearsal myself, symphony members coming up to me and asking if I could not do more of the conducting as they felt Bob's was at times so hard to follow.  I'm embarrassed to admit that at the time I was very flattered by this, and it served to boost my ego in ways I certainly did not and still do not deserve.  But more to the point, a while ago I realized that the problem was really not Bob's conducting, it was that the symphony members who would speak to me were looking for the wrong things from him, and worse, they actually missed a priceless opportunity.

But we seem to be overwhelmed with the need to have fun.  It is not remotely the same thing.  If there is only one thing I would like my students to learn it is that joy and fun are not the same thing.  As I have said, music is about joy.

"Joy" – noun: the emotion of great delight or happiness caused by something exceptionally good or satisfying; keen pleasure; elation.

"Fun" – noun: something that provides mirth or amusement.

Fun is far too fleeting.  Plus, eventually, no matter how "gifted" you are, the fun is going to stop and you're going to have to do some real work to musically evolve. I firmly believe this is the point were so many people stop playing music.  I hear it all the time.  "Well, ya' know, I just kinda lost interest." Give me a break!  No you didn't.  I simply don't believe that.  What I think happened is that you lost your sense of  the pure joy music can give you.  Remember the feeling you got from music when you were the age of my two year old son, Gray? That's the pure joy of music.  I hope Gray is able to retain it.  In any case, I also believe it's because it's just so much simpler to focus on having fun; but again, once it feels like work - and if there is no joy to counter that - well, of course you lose interest.  Who wouldn't?

I know it sounds harsh - which is not my intent - but I am so convinced of this theory of "Musical Joy," that I feel it self-evidently universal.  Historically, so many of us view Beethoven as an ultimate musical genius - a label he certainly deserves; but we also know he struggled - he worked, hard - to write his music at times.  (By the way, I know the easy path here would be to simply point out the subtext of his 9th symphony - the "Ode to Joy" - but I am not going to take the easy path on this one.)  Even if one wanted to blame that struggle on his going deaf, the fact is it required a nearly inhuman work-ethic to accomplish all he did.  We know from his own letters and journals that he struggled.  Constantly battling his own diminishing sense of self as his illness (check out a fantastic book called "Beethoven's Hair" for the details) took more and more control.  Certainly not fun.

No. I personally believe what really kept him going was that he managed to retain that pure sense of musical joy that first captured him when he started his musical journey as a young child.  I for one have never bought into the accounts that claimed Beethoven to be arrogant.  I  believe is was simply certain.  Not of himself, of his music.  Somewhere inside he always retained the joy.  My proof?  Listen to his music.  Or better yet, play it yourself.  Either way the joy is there.  Even when the context is dark, as it often was with Beethoven, there is still joy.

And so I come back to the seemingly simple lesson I got from Robert Billups about joy and fun.  It has nothing to do with musical style or genre.  In fact, it is not exclusive to music.  It applies to anything we do in life.  What Bob was able to do, I am certain I could work for the rest of my life every day, and still not quite have it right.  He was joyous on the podium.  Always.  Every time.  Sure his technique was imperfect. So what?  I now know real music has little if anything to do with technique.  Real music is about joy. Perfect, pure joy.  It was miraculous to watch him.  Joyous.