So as things have started to calm down just a bit from the arrival of Tanner into our family, I find myself drifting back into my musical mindset. I suppose I am the type who never really leaves it, for better of worse, but in any case, Tanner's birth (he and the whole family are doing quite well, by the way) has gotten me thinking about the idea of "new beginnings."
This has carried over even into my teaching as I have been reworking the student recording labs these past days to make them more functional and efficient for their use. Kind of a lab reset or new beginning of its own.
In any case, as we've been setting up gear and such, students have been asking me questions about the individual pieces and such and how I designed the labs and all manner of related questions. One of the topics has been "what do we still need?" It's an interesting area to me, and one that I have decided to broach more directly with them over the coming weeks.
The truth is, the technology of audio is always evolving and changing. No sooner does a piece of gear get released does it seem like another one comes along that is an "improvement." The fact is that there is always more gear to buy. Always a new tool that can improve the end result.
I am not saying that is a bad thing. But over time I have started to wonder where the line really is between the gear we need and the gear we want. Case-in point: preamps.
For the last many years I have been, like so many others, on a quest for the perfect preamp for my studio. The ultimate absurdity of the notion is not lost on me, but I still find myself wondering what might work best for my varied needs. I have been lucky enough to have a lot of friends who have great expertise in such things-certainly more than me-and have been even luckier to be able to borrow any number of pieces to work with and get a sense of their sound in application.
I have no doubt that my assessment may change or evolve over time, but as I write this I have, as of late, had a recurring thought that has grown ever more persistent over time: there is no perfect preamp. This idea of the best combination of mic/preamp/converter is actually becoming funny to me. I think it must have something to do with the fact that, atthe end of the day, I seem always drawn to the song over the production.
I know, I know, seems a bit off given all the time I spend either in production for myself or others, or the fact that I teach so many students about the skills required for excellent production; but none-the-less, there it is. Even if I stipulate that I am not very good at it, I always view myself first as a writer. I tend to want the music to inform the production, not the other way around. I suspect that is one of the principle reasons that my music tends to be so acoustic based. For all the technology I like to use, I tend to want it transparent to a large extent.
To be fair, I am still trying to get my head fully around the implications of this as it relates to the current CD I am attempting to complete, but my gut tells my that the heart of this is accurate, so I feel compelled to go with it.
The gear does matter. There is some truth in notion of "garbage in garbage out" but in the end I feel that rather than search for the perfect piece of gear, it's far better to be searching for the perfect song.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Monday, January 25, 2010
Tanner and Gray videos (the important things in life)
(hint: turn off music player above before playing these videos)
Tanner at 20 minutes...
Gray meets Tanner part 1 (1/25/10)...
Gray meets Tanner part 2...
Gray meets Tanner part 3...
Gray meets Tanner part 4...
Gray the day before Tanner...
Friday, January 22, 2010
Student Focus Threshold
As established deadlines approach and the pressure to complete projects mounts, some students start to suddenly realize that their use of time did not necessarily go as planned. For some, it's due to things beyond their control: got sick and had to miss class, needed gear was unavailable for one reason or another, etc. (I'm not gonna go into the ways it is within their control, but you can assume what you like - it's not that much of a stretch. Anyway...)
When this happens, invariably I will get asked if there is an option for an extension of some kind. In many cases, I grant one - I am certainly not going to penalize a student for things they cannot control - but, that is not always best for them in the long run. Sure, in the controlled environment of a classroom, moving a date is easy and does not usually. in truth, create a lasting, direct, negative impact on anyone or anything. Certainly, I am not going to suffer any consequences over any thing of that nature as the instructor - frankly, I am still not sure anyone really understands what I teach any way to be able to draw any sort of erudite conclusions (myself included.)
But, indirectly, the result could be really devastating. I do not mean to be overly dramatic, but think about it for a moment. A student learns that deadlines are generally flux. They learn to not be quite so specific with them. They, in a very real sense, lessen their chances for continued employment. Truly. If you keep missing deadlines, no matter what the reason, your clients, at some point, start to go somewhere else.
So recently I have chosen a different take on this sometimes seemingly pervasive issue. "What's your threshold for focus?" The answer to this question for any student (to be fair, in any pursuit, not just music) is the key. At what point of compensation are you willing to get the job done regardless of the time limits or gear issues or whatever other parameter is impeding completion? The details are not really relevant, oddly enough. It's actually simple economics. At some point, in their mind, there is a threshold where their full focus will kick in regardless of the details to complete the work. At some point they will do whatever it takes because the compensation is worth the hassle.
Maybe it's $10; or $100; or $1000; or $10,000; or whatever. Again, the details, in this case, are not the issue. The only issue is simply that the threshold does exist; and once identified we can establish work ethic, work quality, and any number of other relevant base-lines. And if a student can identify their specific threshold and then treat every project like that point has been met, well, they can accomplish literally anything they set their skills to.
Of course, I cannot pay them in anything but a grade, but it is clear to me that the students who take their work seriously are already exploring where their focus threshold is. My hope is that they all someday are in situations where they can dictate the terms of a deal with a client and eclipse that threshold. And maybe send me some small percentage as a token for having set them on the path in the first place...ha!
When this happens, invariably I will get asked if there is an option for an extension of some kind. In many cases, I grant one - I am certainly not going to penalize a student for things they cannot control - but, that is not always best for them in the long run. Sure, in the controlled environment of a classroom, moving a date is easy and does not usually. in truth, create a lasting, direct, negative impact on anyone or anything. Certainly, I am not going to suffer any consequences over any thing of that nature as the instructor - frankly, I am still not sure anyone really understands what I teach any way to be able to draw any sort of erudite conclusions (myself included.)
But, indirectly, the result could be really devastating. I do not mean to be overly dramatic, but think about it for a moment. A student learns that deadlines are generally flux. They learn to not be quite so specific with them. They, in a very real sense, lessen their chances for continued employment. Truly. If you keep missing deadlines, no matter what the reason, your clients, at some point, start to go somewhere else.
So recently I have chosen a different take on this sometimes seemingly pervasive issue. "What's your threshold for focus?" The answer to this question for any student (to be fair, in any pursuit, not just music) is the key. At what point of compensation are you willing to get the job done regardless of the time limits or gear issues or whatever other parameter is impeding completion? The details are not really relevant, oddly enough. It's actually simple economics. At some point, in their mind, there is a threshold where their full focus will kick in regardless of the details to complete the work. At some point they will do whatever it takes because the compensation is worth the hassle.
Maybe it's $10; or $100; or $1000; or $10,000; or whatever. Again, the details, in this case, are not the issue. The only issue is simply that the threshold does exist; and once identified we can establish work ethic, work quality, and any number of other relevant base-lines. And if a student can identify their specific threshold and then treat every project like that point has been met, well, they can accomplish literally anything they set their skills to.
Of course, I cannot pay them in anything but a grade, but it is clear to me that the students who take their work seriously are already exploring where their focus threshold is. My hope is that they all someday are in situations where they can dictate the terms of a deal with a client and eclipse that threshold. And maybe send me some small percentage as a token for having set them on the path in the first place...ha!
Monday, January 18, 2010
Student Technology Gap
Every now and again, I will have a conversation with other educators about the use of technology in the classroom. I always find it very enlightening to discuss this topic as it servers to help me refine my own methodologies in the area. Once in a while though I get comments like, "You know, the kids know far more about his stuff than we do."
When I was first developing the concept for the Contemporary Music and Sound program, having not even begun to create the curriculum, I was presented with this theory by two, highly respected arts educators. To be honest, my initial reaction was to be a bit shocked. It seemed so odd to me that educators of any level would infer that students had nothing more to learn; or worse that there was some sort of generational gap that prevented anyone of a certain age being a viable instructor. Odd. Truth be told, I later came to learn the comment was more a reaction to the CMAS concept as a whole and a sort of veiled effort to block its creation in the first place. Obviously, the success of the program rendered this mute, but I digress (as usual)...anyway...
What I have become more fascinated with over the years is the realities of student understanding of technology. Here is my current sense of this subject: In some ways my earlier mentioned colleagues are correct-students today do seem more inclined to use technology than say my parents were. But where they seemed to have missed the point is in the details. For example, the willingness to use technology does not necessarily correspond to a real understanding of the technology.
Here's an example: Year two students get to a point where they are ready to take their recording sessions they have created in Pro Tools and transfer them to a more consumer friendly medium - an .mp3, for example. Now the task of learning to record to in Pro Tools is not simple. It takes a considerable amount of work, concentration and self-discipline and effort on the pat of the student. There is a massive technological understanding required of the student be successful, even with the most basic of recording sessions. Frankly, it is one of the most enjoyable educational moments to witness as a student successfully crosses that ability threshold.
To that end, if we go with the theory posed by my colleagues, and even forgiving them to somewhat myopic view that the use of a DAW such as Pro Tools as something a student could easily gain on their own, their logic falls tragically short in the creation of the final .mp3. Ironically, I even fell a bit prey to this kind of thinking at first. The file format conversion to the .mp3 format is, I had thought, a fairly simple process in, for example, iTunes. Without intending to follow my colleagues lead, I assumed that all my students had a rudimentary understanding of programs like iTunes. After all, they all seem to have iPods or mp3 players of some kind, so it seemed like a fairly obvious conclusion that they understood the format conversion process - certainly to get he data onto their players they must have done the convertion, otherwise they would have nothing to listen to.
It turns out however that their understanding was limited to a very specific set of circumstances. Change even one of the variables and they could not be successful. It's kind of like when I drive a car. If there is gas in it and it is operating"normally" I can pretty much drive as needed to whatever destination is required. However, if there is some issue with the engine, I have absolutely no idea what to do to make the car function normally again. Not a clue.
And so I now see the implementation of technology in education as a function of process more than anything else. It's not so much teaching the student which buttons to press when, it's more about teaching them how the button works. Not so much the mechanics of it, but how it "talks" to all the other buttons - how they are interrelated - how their proper use accomplishes a specific task more efficiently. Even better is when the student learns to make self-imposed critical evaluations of new, in some cases, as yet to be covered in the curriculum, topics. "I took the ideas of this thing and wanted to see how they would work in application on this other thing." Even if the result is less than perfect, the exploration of the process is being cultivated and in the long run that kind of inclination or instinct is invaluable.
Closing on a cynical note, one of the colleagues I mentioned has retired and the other, I think, is soon to follow. Makes me wonder if in retirement, they'll be calling their grandkids to get instructions on how to use the TV or if they'll be brave enough to open the manual and learn it for themselves.
When I was first developing the concept for the Contemporary Music and Sound program, having not even begun to create the curriculum, I was presented with this theory by two, highly respected arts educators. To be honest, my initial reaction was to be a bit shocked. It seemed so odd to me that educators of any level would infer that students had nothing more to learn; or worse that there was some sort of generational gap that prevented anyone of a certain age being a viable instructor. Odd. Truth be told, I later came to learn the comment was more a reaction to the CMAS concept as a whole and a sort of veiled effort to block its creation in the first place. Obviously, the success of the program rendered this mute, but I digress (as usual)...anyway...
What I have become more fascinated with over the years is the realities of student understanding of technology. Here is my current sense of this subject: In some ways my earlier mentioned colleagues are correct-students today do seem more inclined to use technology than say my parents were. But where they seemed to have missed the point is in the details. For example, the willingness to use technology does not necessarily correspond to a real understanding of the technology.
Here's an example: Year two students get to a point where they are ready to take their recording sessions they have created in Pro Tools and transfer them to a more consumer friendly medium - an .mp3, for example. Now the task of learning to record to in Pro Tools is not simple. It takes a considerable amount of work, concentration and self-discipline and effort on the pat of the student. There is a massive technological understanding required of the student be successful, even with the most basic of recording sessions. Frankly, it is one of the most enjoyable educational moments to witness as a student successfully crosses that ability threshold.
To that end, if we go with the theory posed by my colleagues, and even forgiving them to somewhat myopic view that the use of a DAW such as Pro Tools as something a student could easily gain on their own, their logic falls tragically short in the creation of the final .mp3. Ironically, I even fell a bit prey to this kind of thinking at first. The file format conversion to the .mp3 format is, I had thought, a fairly simple process in, for example, iTunes. Without intending to follow my colleagues lead, I assumed that all my students had a rudimentary understanding of programs like iTunes. After all, they all seem to have iPods or mp3 players of some kind, so it seemed like a fairly obvious conclusion that they understood the format conversion process - certainly to get he data onto their players they must have done the convertion, otherwise they would have nothing to listen to.
It turns out however that their understanding was limited to a very specific set of circumstances. Change even one of the variables and they could not be successful. It's kind of like when I drive a car. If there is gas in it and it is operating"normally" I can pretty much drive as needed to whatever destination is required. However, if there is some issue with the engine, I have absolutely no idea what to do to make the car function normally again. Not a clue.
And so I now see the implementation of technology in education as a function of process more than anything else. It's not so much teaching the student which buttons to press when, it's more about teaching them how the button works. Not so much the mechanics of it, but how it "talks" to all the other buttons - how they are interrelated - how their proper use accomplishes a specific task more efficiently. Even better is when the student learns to make self-imposed critical evaluations of new, in some cases, as yet to be covered in the curriculum, topics. "I took the ideas of this thing and wanted to see how they would work in application on this other thing." Even if the result is less than perfect, the exploration of the process is being cultivated and in the long run that kind of inclination or instinct is invaluable.
Closing on a cynical note, one of the colleagues I mentioned has retired and the other, I think, is soon to follow. Makes me wonder if in retirement, they'll be calling their grandkids to get instructions on how to use the TV or if they'll be brave enough to open the manual and learn it for themselves.
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