Tag: music

The Creative Writer

Jeannie Marie Leave a comment

The species that is known as the “creative writer” is one that has baffled me for centuries. Ranging from the hipster elite to that kid buried deep in Lord of the Rings lore, the creative writer takes all shapes and forms.

But really, can I criticize?

The creative writer (aka, me) just encountered her first workshop today. Terrified, she walked into class, prepared for the worst. They hated it, they didn’t understand the point, they wanted to burn the very words off the page. The creative writer had to sit, never explaining her decisions or why the poems were written that specific way, only drinking in the criticisms.

She dismissed the praise. They were lying, they only wanted a good thing to say so the bad things didn’t sound so bad. The things they liked were meaningless.

She rifled through the letters they gave her, reading every word for its double meaning. She wanted an excuse to rip up the pages and never look at them again. She searched, finding the critiques and holding them tight.

This is the life of a creative writer, the life I’ve chosen. Sometimes, I am happy with my choice. I love writing, I love reading, I love words. But most of the time, I am looking for that one glitch that is telling me that I’m not good enough to get published.

But now, I’m sitting in Hatcher. There’s nothing but me and my laptop. And so, to take a break from work, I pulled up Spotify, and decided to listen to one of my favorite albums from last year.

There are two versions of “The North” by Stars from their album of the same name. One is the normal version, the other, a bonus track, eloquently named “Breakglass Version.” This acoustic song has always been something that touched me, so as I sat, I thought of my piece, my classmates, and my future. But then I listened to the original track, and I realized that this version was sung by a different (male) member of the band. There’s always two ways to look at something, and one isn’t necessarily as bad as the other. It sounds (and probably is) very cliché, but just remembering that one simple fact helped me to breathe a little bit easier as I realized not everyone had to love my writing, and not everyone hated it. And that was okay.

Queasy or Uneasy?

Alexandria Strother Leave a comment

Auditions make me feel queasy. My knees feel weak, my heart pounds and I forget to breathe. I cannot help but assume that I am incompetent and am about to make a fool of myself in front of people that could make or break my future career with one disparaging remark.

Waiting for the results makes me feel queasy. For days (or weeks if the director is particularly cruel) I barrage myself with self deprecating thoughts of what I did wrong and what I could, and should, have done better. I have dreams of receiving positive results which turn into nightmares of the performance; where I am sick, injured and have forgotten all my lines.

If I am cast, I receive a brief respite from the perpetual queasiness. If I am not cast, I allow myself five minutes to be sad, call my mom and dad, and tell myself that I am so much better than the girl that they did choose. Then I am back on my computer seeking out the next audition because if I’m not auditioning or rehearsing for a show I feel very uneasy.

I am a firm believer that as a performance major, students should be performing in at least one show a semester. Surprisingly enough, plenty of students graduate having performed in 1 or 2 productions total. While we learn much from our classes on music theory and history, and the technique we learn in our private lessons is invaluable, I believe that performing is necessary to master our craft.

Many of my friends avoid auditions and performing in shows because they feel that they have not yet mastered their technique, and that more a deserving performer will audition and be cast. Likewise, that they do not want to present themselves to the public before they have mastered their technique. I am very much aware of the deficiencies in my vocal technique, and work daily to improve upon it, but in talking to Master and PhD students who have performed internationally I have realized that none of us have perfect technique.

So while I audition for an unreasonable amount of shows and ride an emotional roller coaster as I wait for the results, I find this to be good training for the life that I plan to live. Here, the stakes are much lower –merely risking my pride when a few years from now a flubbed audition will risk bills becoming unpaid. My technique is not perfect and it never will be, and so perhaps, this perpetual queasiness is all in vain. However, I’ve heard it said that 10,000 hours are required to master anything, so I’m on my way to the next audition.

The Ginger Who Sings Opera

Alexandria Strother Leave a comment

I have always prided myself on being a natural born redhead, containing the stereotypical fiery temper but lacking the freckles, and singing opera. These two characteristics have shaped and defined me since I was a child but have also labeled me as a dying breed. Recently, National Geographic printed an article stating that redheads are likely to be extinct within the century and BBC’s Hard Talk reporter Sarah Montague stated that “Opera is one of the least watched art forms in the world”. There is nothing I can do to remove myself from the gene pool steadily marching toward extinction, but why choose a career which seems doomed to the same fate?

Over the summer, I volunteered as a counselor at the Interlochen Center for the Arts assisting my old high school choir with the week long camp culminating in a concert after 4 days and a mere 20 hours of rehearsal. The kids were normal high schoolers, not a room of child prodigies awaiting their acceptance letters from Julliard, but students who genuinely cared about music and the creation of music in collaboration with their peers. The concert we presented was by no means perfect, “a work in progress” the audience was informed, but the sense of community which had been developed within the choir was well worth the trip. From strangers to friends in less than four days, music served as the medium for these relationships to grow. At the final campfire the normal high school cliques were nonexistent, replaced by groups of comingled freshmen and seniors defying the social standards which exist outside of choir camp. A clear example of the ability of singing to develop a community which defies social norms, experiences like this are why I sing and why I believe that music is fundamentally important for community development.

Perhaps opera and classical music are dying art forms and Taylor Swift and Miley Cyrus will be revered as the Bach and Mozart of our time. Yet, I will continue to sing opera because I know that my voice is simply adding to a much larger chorus and I am part of a much larger musical community.

Jouissanceful Goose Bumps

Taylor Leave a comment

There are many things I love about growing a beard / facial hair.
1) It looks damn good;
2) I look even older (sophisticated and sexy) than I already do and am mistaken for a grad student (since they’re all sophisticated and sexy #lol), even in my own classes (awkward);
3) My face has a built-in blanket for the cold, terrible winter months; and,
4) Face goosebumps are the best goosebumps.
However, these face goosebumps (not facial goosebumps because that sounds too weird) only happen in rare, beautiful occasions. “Rare” in that I don’t get myself to concerts that often and even then, only classical music gives me full body goosebumps where I feel like I have stopped living and am inhabiting transcendence itself. Aka that means nothing but I feel everything.
Last night I was able to attend the UM Symphony Band’s first seasonal concert at the majestic Hill Auditorium. Every time I step into Hill I forget that I pass it daily as I sprint, late, to class; I forget how I hate how big society is (although I do love cities . . .); I forget that I live 3 minutes down the road and that I can touch most ceilings with my hand if not head. Going to this venue is going-out in its finest sense–I dress up, cleanse my mind, and the seat I choose becomes my reason for living for 2-4 hours. I don’t have to worry about my thesis, I don’t have to think about my paper due tomorrow (now today), I don’t have to cope with dramatic boys, I don’t have to do a lot of things. The only thing I have and want to do is to sit and listen, absorb and reflect, and be in a state of becoming-child (#Deleuze).
Hill Auditorium is itself distracting when inside it. It’s so big. Every time I choose my seat I stare all around myself and I think that I need to update my glasses prescription. I think about how the space that I can’t discern is going to be filled with music and its mind-blowing. It’s overwhelming. It makes me . . . get goosebumps on my face. (First case, amazing buildings and space.)
Then I remember that this concert is free. (Second case, I love free things–face goosebumps follow realization.)
AND THEN I REMEMBER THEY ARE ABOUT TO PLAY MY FAVORITE PIECE, movement two from Bernstein’s Jeremiah Symphony, “Profanation.” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZGVRaUj-YLk) GOOSEBUMPS GOOSEBUMPS GOOSEBUMPS.
Every (other) song the band performs is great. It’s rare that I listen to new (classical-ish) music and fall in love. There was so much love, however. And then, of course, they decide to play the Bernstein post-intermission and I feel as if I will simultaneously pee myself, vomit, and pass out all until the beginning notes of this masterpiece are played. Since I’ve heard this piece before live (and have studied the score . . .) I know which parts are difficult and every time the trumpets don’t frack a note my heart starts to soar higher. Every time everyone is syncopated at the same time I feel myself letting out an “AHHHHHH” and I fall deeper into my seat as if the earth is opening up just to save me from this moment of pure joy.
I never want it to end and for me it never will. This concert is everything I wanted. It acts as an escape from some parts of life and lets me relax and involve myself in music. Being in music is all I really ever want. And on these select nights, my dreams do come true.
[To think that my face goosebumps could be also called face goosepimples. I cannot.]

Authorial Intent and ‘The Gershwin Initiative’

Sarah Ogar Leave a comment

If you haven’t heard of it, The Gershwin Initiative is a new collaboration between the Gershwin family (most famously known for George and Ira) and the University of Michigan.  Specifically, U of M has already received the Gershwin Steinway piano, which was made in 1933, purchased in 1934, and played for decades by one of America’s most musically contributive families.

The Gershwin Piano (UM School of Music)
The Gershwin Piano (UM School of Music)

Piano gifts aside, a more critical reason for the collaboration is the creation of a critical edition of the Gershwin songbook.  U of M has been granted full scholarly access to the works, including early versions and supplementary notes to all the pieces.

This may not seem like much to the average music listener, but to put it in comparison, it would be like receiving access to all of Shakespeare’s diaries and sticky-notes (if they had sticky notes in the 17th century) with his comments and thought process laid out in one collection.

It is kind of a big deal.

As an English major and self-proclaimed bibliophile who reads copyright information and dedications before delving into its contents, I am frequently made aware of the editorial contributions of many people even with books written by one author.  And once a book has gone to print, there is also the fact that new editions arise within years (and sometimes months or even weeks).  Decisions are made and contents can be drastically altered.

But I don’t often think this way towards music.  Music is such a prescribed art form, with its rhythmic and timing constraints.  Classical or orchestrated music in particular, always sounds so rigidly controlled.  The musicians have no free reign to alter the music if the conductor does not alter his commands.  And the fact that there can be such varied interpretations of this kind of music befuddles a music neophyte like myself.

Needless to say, I cannot wait to attend one of the accompanying Gershwin events in the coming months.  There is no denying the Gershwin influence on American opera, orchestra, and jazz.  I’ve never heard a Gershwin piece that didn’t make me want to return to a classier, swankier time. In fact, my first Ann Arbor Symphony performance viewing included ‘Cuban Overture’ which stayed in my head for weeks afterwards.   Here’s to musical compilation and collaboration!

Make Music + Food, Not War

Sarah Ogar Leave a comment

I recently had the privilege of attending a concert by the Silk Road Ensemble

which is comprised of over 60 musicians from 24 different countries.  On Saturday night at Hill Auditorium, I heard Yo-Yo Ma, Cristina Pato, and thirteen other members give a whirlwind performance that took my breath away.

Using such varied instruments such as the cello, the gaita (a sort of Spanish bagpipe), the piano, tabla, and the human voice, they cooked up a multicultural mix of musical sounds and styles.

Every musician was very skilled as they effortlessly glided through different continental styles and modes.   I couldn’t help but smile myself when I saw the happy, satisfied looks on their faces as they played each piece.  One of the musicians commented on how the group arranges traditional orchestral pieces to suit the different instruments that find their way into the ensemble. He said it was like taking a classic recipe and improvising.

The wonderful collaboration reminded me of a dinner I had attended, where me and some of my Christian friends enjoyed some delicious Middle Eastern food with the Muslim students association.  The dinner was a peaceful and enjoyable way that different cultures could connect.

In general, it made me think that there would be a lot less political conflict, if world leaders sat down and ate together and played music together more often.  Who can honestly say they don’t like good music and good food, especially when mixed together?

Below: Yo-Yo Ma: the artistic director of the Silk Road Ensemble, and the man who inspired me to take up the cello in fifth grade and especially to master the Bach Suites.

The Man, The Myth, The Legend
The Man, The Myth, The Legend