I recently had the opportunity to do some final testing on my crossfeeding headphone mixing procedures and I am happy to report that it is, so far, remarkably successful. The basics of this last testing was pretty simple. I produced an entire 23 track CD - about 70 minutes of music with a wide variance in style/genre - entirely using my crossfeeding methods.
The proof of the success was equally simple. The sample tracks of the final CD have gone over unbelievably well. The implications of this are pretty significant. The most obvious are that I am now capable of doing high end studio work pretty much anywhere, anytime - a blissfully freeing notion. It also means an incredibly important tool for my students. It means that the cost of a "pure" room for mixing, for anyone, is now rooted almost entirely in the cost of a high quality set of headphones - imagine, for example, the benefit to college students studying audio production living in dorms. (FYI, Earbuds, and anything by Bose, are not going to be acceptable for any kind of quality result due to a lack of uniform frequency response and a significant tendency to color the sound, respectively.) There is also the possibility of creating a version of the process within the RTAS, VST, and AU plug-in formats which might mean a viable monetizing opportunity.
Anyway, as this all begins to play out, it is really exciting to know that the results are being so well received. Makes me feel like there are countless possibility opening up.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Friday, October 30, 2009
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.
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.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Greetings from the road
Ok, so I don’t tour very much these days, but I am sitting in with a friend’s band tonight for a pre-Halloween party, and am writing this while on a short break in the set. (posting likely after the gig.)
I don’t play out nearly as much as I used to for any number of reasons, and in so many ways I miss it. On the other hand, the club scene is such a hassle, and I am sure I it is a sign of my age that I have far less patience for it than I used to. Plus I seem to grow weary of playing cover songs after a while - am forever more interested in creating something new of my own. Obviously audience opinions vary on this, but I digress.
On the other hand there is something truly joyful about playing with a group of people just for the sake of playing, for an audience that is just there to enjoy the moment with you. And that makes me think of a lesson I wish I was able to impart on my students easier: Joy and fun are not he same thing and joy is so much more satisfying in the long run.
Music is a show of joy to me. No matter the style or sound, even in the darkest of context, there is still an intrinsic element of joy. I know I need to fully explain this, but for now it’s back to the show. Anyone seen a roadie or two to carry my gear to my car later?....
I don’t play out nearly as much as I used to for any number of reasons, and in so many ways I miss it. On the other hand, the club scene is such a hassle, and I am sure I it is a sign of my age that I have far less patience for it than I used to. Plus I seem to grow weary of playing cover songs after a while - am forever more interested in creating something new of my own. Obviously audience opinions vary on this, but I digress.
On the other hand there is something truly joyful about playing with a group of people just for the sake of playing, for an audience that is just there to enjoy the moment with you. And that makes me think of a lesson I wish I was able to impart on my students easier: Joy and fun are not he same thing and joy is so much more satisfying in the long run.
Music is a show of joy to me. No matter the style or sound, even in the darkest of context, there is still an intrinsic element of joy. I know I need to fully explain this, but for now it’s back to the show. Anyone seen a roadie or two to carry my gear to my car later?....
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
All or nothing
I had a very interesting conversation with a friend of mine today about how music education is changing. My friend, Evan Tobias, is a Music Education professor at ASU. For what it is worth, as much as there are people who claim I am a "cutting edge" music educator, Evan has me beat by far.
Anyway, we were talking about how there are all these backwards perceptions of music that seem to permeate educators on all levels, and then these same people seem so shocked when they are forced to come to grips the realities of a changing musical world. Evan is far more diplomatic than I am, but I could not help but to refer to them as fundamentalists.
We talked about all kinds of permutations, but they all seemed to come down to a single overriding concept: the notion that music is not, or should not, evolve is ridiculous. Think about it. Most music education is solely focused on the music and music techniques that have long since past. That is not to say they are irrelevant - that kind of thinking actually makes me just as upset (and I think Evan too, though I do not want to speak for him - check his blog to get more specifics from him.) It's more about this prevailing sense of some music is valid and some is not. Drives me crazy.
And let's not forget that this goes both ways. I spend so much time working with my more "contemporary" students on seeing the value of "classical" music to their own work. A tip if you are ever having to do something like that. Approach it from the standpoint of the composer's motivation. What was being said with the music? That kind of insight is far more universal than you might think. Using that approach I have turned a huge number of rock oriented musicians into fairly well versed classical fans. Frankly once the door to universal musical validity is opened, it seems like a flood gate that cannot be closed. Also works the other way with more "traditional" students as well.
Evan and I spoke for a quite a bit of time about all this, and basically decided that the musical standards we have all come to know are not the problem. It's the application of those standards that is the real issue. By the way, I am fully aware of my bias on this subject - I did, in a very small way, "pioneer" a new type of music education, but still, any time we are deliberately setting limits...well, that just seems so "unmusical" to me, if I can be that cliche.
All music students should learn to view all music as valid. All of it. There should certainly be personal preferences and tastes to guide us, but the notion that some is more viable than others is very hard for me to reconcile.
I must confess that our conversation was hardly confrontational as we both hold pretty much the same views on this subject, but to that end, I think Evan's idea of a kind of consortium of like minded thinkers in this area could really help. I cannot believe he and I are the only ones that think this way.
Lots more from me on this subject, I am sure, in the future. Stay tuned.
Anyway, we were talking about how there are all these backwards perceptions of music that seem to permeate educators on all levels, and then these same people seem so shocked when they are forced to come to grips the realities of a changing musical world. Evan is far more diplomatic than I am, but I could not help but to refer to them as fundamentalists.
We talked about all kinds of permutations, but they all seemed to come down to a single overriding concept: the notion that music is not, or should not, evolve is ridiculous. Think about it. Most music education is solely focused on the music and music techniques that have long since past. That is not to say they are irrelevant - that kind of thinking actually makes me just as upset (and I think Evan too, though I do not want to speak for him - check his blog to get more specifics from him.) It's more about this prevailing sense of some music is valid and some is not. Drives me crazy.
And let's not forget that this goes both ways. I spend so much time working with my more "contemporary" students on seeing the value of "classical" music to their own work. A tip if you are ever having to do something like that. Approach it from the standpoint of the composer's motivation. What was being said with the music? That kind of insight is far more universal than you might think. Using that approach I have turned a huge number of rock oriented musicians into fairly well versed classical fans. Frankly once the door to universal musical validity is opened, it seems like a flood gate that cannot be closed. Also works the other way with more "traditional" students as well.
Evan and I spoke for a quite a bit of time about all this, and basically decided that the musical standards we have all come to know are not the problem. It's the application of those standards that is the real issue. By the way, I am fully aware of my bias on this subject - I did, in a very small way, "pioneer" a new type of music education, but still, any time we are deliberately setting limits...well, that just seems so "unmusical" to me, if I can be that cliche.
All music students should learn to view all music as valid. All of it. There should certainly be personal preferences and tastes to guide us, but the notion that some is more viable than others is very hard for me to reconcile.
I must confess that our conversation was hardly confrontational as we both hold pretty much the same views on this subject, but to that end, I think Evan's idea of a kind of consortium of like minded thinkers in this area could really help. I cannot believe he and I are the only ones that think this way.
Lots more from me on this subject, I am sure, in the future. Stay tuned.
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