A New Perspective

It's hard being told you're not doing a good job.  In order to save your pride a little you always say that if they really knew what it was like doing what you do they'd eat their words.  Well, last week our  most persistent critic (although critic may be to harsh a word) walked a mile in my shoes and mixed the singer's night concert.  And while I secretly wanted him to walk away cowering and praising the job we do considering all we put up with, my feelings at the end of the night are neither good or bad.  Honestly the whole experience was a little awkward.  Kind of how I imagine watching your mother take your Ferrari for  a spin would be.  You love her and trust her but are a little uncomfortable with the way she drives.

As I've mentioned before, the core principle in live sound is compromise.  I want the piano as far from the drummer as possible.  The pianist complains that he can't see.  I am then faced with either upsetting the band (the result being a bad concert), or dealing with the drums leaking into the piano mics (also not good).  My job is to make a choice that will appease everyone.  There is sacrifice involved. That is what differs from a live performance and a studio setting.  When it's live there are all of these variables, all of these balls that you're juggling to make the show happen with as few hiccups as possible.  In the process some things take precedent over others.  Can I hear everyone who is playing? Is the band comfortable on stage? These are the questions that are fore front in my mind while mixing. A close third is does everything sound natural? Meaning does the sound coming out of the speakers reflect the sound coming from the instrument. Usually these three concerns take up all of my time and concentration, let's face it, it is not a detail oriented job. That's what I like about it. Last Tuesday provide me with a different perspective and it was interesting to see someone who had an entirely different set of priorities. The first and most important of these being sound quality.

I watched as he truly engineered the concert.  The drummer re tuned the drums to his specification, each reverb was listened to carefully and adjusted, effects, dynamics, everything was approached with careful consideration. The result sounded great.  It sounded good and in control.  Now I could see what he had been complaining about all these years. He couldn't understand why we claimed to have so little power when we obviously do.  I found my self thinking wow what a difference maybe this job doesn't have to be about settling all the time. And then reality reared it's head and I realized that there are cons to this method. Firstly it's slow.  We didn't have time for a run through because we were taking too much time from song to song.  Secondly there were feedback issues.  The low end boost may sound nice but once it starts feeding back it no longer does. And third there is little room for subtlety in live sound.  At least that was always my opinion. Why do something the audience won't notice?  As I watched I was reminded of the AA serenity prayer: God, give us the grace to accept with serenity the things that cannot be changed, courage to change the things which should be changed, and the wisdom to distinguish the one from the other.

 We complain so much about all of the things that make our mixes sound bad. After a while you just throw your hands up and say "Fuck it" What I took away from this experience and what I believe he wanted to convey was that yes, there are things about live sound that are out of our control, but just because the things you can control are subtle they are not insignificant.  Watching Him mix was different and I can't say that I will be adopting much of what I saw. But I will approach my job with less sense of futility.  80% of this job is perception, I play the perception game all of the time. (Who hasn't reached for a fader, changed nothing and have the performer tell you how much better it sounds) Perhaps a little more effort on my part could change my perception too.

String Showcase

I am beat. I am finally sitting after spending the last nine hours on my feet...literally on my feet.  This show completely broke me.  There were so many things that were just plain wrong about this show I don't know where to start. Yet despite all of my aches and pains the show (as usual) turned out wonderfully.  It's so frustrating that I can't be mad about this show (well maybe I am a little).  It was a great show, a resounding success, but now I'm going to have to write a long e-mail to my boss about why it can't happen like this again.  First, it only hurts the show when the engineer works nine hours with no break.  At some point I just wasn't hearing anymore, or thinking straight, or thinking at all really.  So while I understand the need to have an extended sound check, four hours is just too long for one person to try and make sense out of the madness, and nine hours is way too long to reasonably expect for me to do a good job.  Second, there is no way to fit thirteen bands into a 90 minute show. Attempting to do so and then inevitably failing just upsets everyone involved.  It always amazes me how little people understand the consequences of their actions. For instance no one ever thinks of the cost of their show running late.  It's like they assume that Berklee venues are free of the concerns of other performance spaces.  Just because you are not paying for the use of the space doesn't mean that it's free.  There is a limit to the amount of money we can spend on staffing shows, and going over that means losing it in other areas. New equipment, repairs, new positions all things I'd rather not sacrifice simply because a concert leader can't get their shit together.  And forget about the money, what about just common courtesy?  I think people assume that we only exist in our professional capacity.  Don't I deserve to get home at a reasonable hour? To enjoy an hour or two with my family before going to bed? It may seem a bit melodramatic but that is what I lose when a concert runs late.  My babysitter had to leave before I got home.  Thankfully my cousin was there to take over, but what if she hadn't been?  I know I can't expect people to take these things into account when they put on their show.  But they should at least try and put themselves in my shoes.  How would you like it if you were hoping to be home by 11 and then was forced to work for an extra hour. Or it's five o'clock, you're grabbing your coat and suddenly your asshole boss drops more work in your lap before you can leave.  It sucks right? And yet it happens to me and my coworkers over and over again.  That is the worst part.  I'm positive I've written another blog entry saying the exact same thing.  It never changes.  So while I enjoyed a lot of yesterday's concert (Eric Robertson And The Boston Boys rocked my world!) I can't in good conscience say that they deserve another concert next year, which is just sad.

Free Jazzing

             If you were to take a poll of the stage crew at Berklee and ask them "what music do you enjoy listening to the least at work?" There would be a surprising majority who'd say Jazz. It's surprising because of all the styles of music Jazz is the one that Berklee is best known for. There's an easy explanation for this though. Let's say for example that you worked at Willie Wonka's chocolate factory and part of your job was tasting the chocolate before it gets packaged. If someone were to ask you if you liked chocolate, after spending an entire day eating it, you would most likely answer "no." That's exactly what it's like for our work-study students.  We hear so much Jazz in this job we can barely stand to listen to it anymore.  So when I look at the program and see the first piece is entitled "Free Jazz" I groan.  Not only would tonight be Jazz but it would be unlistenable Jazz.  We spend the rest of the relatively simple set up time making jokes about how awful tonight is going to be when one girl meekly states that she is looking forward to the show tonight. At my incredulous response she says "I know, no one here likes Jazz." Which made me pause.  I didn't want that to be the case. In fact, I enjoy a lot the jazz concerts around campus.  I explained that there are many types of Jazz, so that wasn't necessarily true, but decided I would reserve judgment on "Freefall" (the concert title) until I'd heard it.
          The concert had an impressive line up. Most notably (for me at least) was Joe Lovano, George Garzone, and Josh Rosen.  The first group started the show off with a 50 minute free jazz piece, with two saxes and drum set.  I know, it sounds awful, but I was reserving judgment.  Instead of listening to it how I usually do (trying desperately to stay awake) I listened and thought about the crew girl who was excited to hear this show.  What about this music is appealing? There is no melody or harmony or even a rhythm to keep your interest, all of the reasons I enjoy music are missing, so what is there? As I watched and listened I was reminded of a scene from "On the Road" by Jack Kerouac.  In the scene the protagonists are in a jazz club, but it's not a jazz club like I know them. This was a crowded dive, a lively party where everyone is there to be lost in the music. It sounded wild or crazy with a level of energy I've never experienced in a jazz club. The scene resonated with me because even though the environment was unfamiliar, the music he described was.  I hear it everyday.  So now as I listen I imagine being in that space. The heat of bodies is almost overwhelming, cigarette smoke hangs thickly in the air,  and it's noisy, not just with the sound of two wailing saxophones, but there are clinking glasses and boisterous conversations intermingled with cries of encouragement to the band. Everyone here is seeking release and the music embodies that search.  The audiences experiences through the musicians a freedom that they don't get anywhere else in their lives. It makes you want to shout, to move, to let everything go and just be apart of it.  This is a place I would love to go.  I can see myself dancing on a table occasionally adding to the din, with laughter and shouts or music of my own.  Anything goes here, that's what defines this music... it's free.
         I open my eyes and I'm back in a dark, still room watching three men make noise on the stage. They are expressing this freedom, but there aren't sharing it.  The room doesn't allow them to share it, it's too big. At this point it has been 30 minutes of them playing.  My threshold for this stuff has reached it's limit and I am now pitifully watching the clock hoping they stay within the 45 minute time restraint which of course they don't.  Now that my listening exercise has fizzled out I struggle again to pay attention, to not fall asleep, to at least pretend that I am actively listening to what is happening on stage.  Let's not forget that I have a job to do.  But as the minutes tick by I turn into my five year old self trying to stay still in church. I fidget and look around, make origami shapes with the program, count ceiling tiles. I honestly had the hardest time doing my job simply because I couldn't listen any more.  Of all of the difficult shows I've complained about over the years I've never felt I wasn't up to the task of mixing it. And even if it sounded band I was always working to make it as good as it can be. This show proved that I have some limits. Fortunately I didn't need to do much. And I can't help but think that despite the acclaim of  the musicians playing or even the crowd that came out, that this music has no business being played in a concert hall. It's supposed to be about connecting with people and I have a hard time believing that anyone was connecting to what these guys were doing. There once was a time and a place for this music, when it served a purpose and spoke to people. What I saw last night while I'm sure it was gratifying to the players was stripped of it's meaning when it failed to move the audience emotionally.  Last night wasn't about freedom and expression, it was just noise.

Steph's Recs 10/17

This was the week of clinics for me.  So unfortunately I don't have any concert reviews. Although I watched a little bit of Shun Chein's Super Mario Party which was so much fun.  It wasn't an impeccable performance, but the themes from the games were cleverly arranged into listenable songs. I only stuck around for a couple of songs since the room was packed (kudos to you sir) and I had to get home, but I'll definitely keep an eye out for any upcoming shows of his.  Now on to the main attraction...

Mon: 1W 4pm, Deepak Gopinath- Deepak is a fellow crew member so I have to give him a shout out. If you like jazz you should come check it out.          
Tues: 1A 6:15pm- Esterhazy String Quartet Student Readings- I always enjoy hearing this group play. I especially enjoy hearing the student compositions.  I think having predominantly jazz musicians write classical  music results in a very unique listening experience.
Wed:  1W 4pm, Utar Dundaratun- I will preface this by saying the last time I heard him play I almost became violently angry at one of his players. And yet despite my awful experience I still think he's awesome and would go hear him play again.  Even if my nemisis was playing with him.  
Thurs: Steve Heck Room 1pm, Jonathan Joubert- Gypsy jazz, need I say more.
Fri:   1A 4pm, Rika Ikeda- Elcletic Jazz violinist. Some people say that Jazz is an antiquated style of music.  Eight years at Berklee has shown me otherwise and Rika is a perfect example of all the new places Jazz can go.

The Business of Music

                Yesterday Berklee's music business department hosted their annual Hip Hop Symposium. A panel of black music industry professionals assembled to discuss their experiences in the business. The panel included Ryan Leslie top artist/producer; Ed Woods Attorney, former exec VP of Black Music, Casablanca; Francesca Spero whose credits in publishing, project executive oversight, music supervision include longtime VP Management/Publishing;  Joi Pitts Head of Urban Marketing/Brand Partnerships Mgr - Atlantic; Leonard Lb Brooks Sr. VP A&R Labels/Head of Urban: EMI; and Sharon Heyward Former top exec Virgin Perspective.  While this is I believe the 4th year that they've put on this symposium it was the first time I had seen it. And I wasn't particularly impressed. Oddly enough the high point of the night for me was watching the Hip-Hop Ensemble play. I say oddly because miraculously it sounded good, and I didn't need to fight the band to get it that way. For such a high energy start it just fizzled out and then got really awkward at the end.
                  I always complain that clinicians who come to Berklee rarely rise to the level where Berklee students operate. That was the impression I had last night.  The general message was: educate yourself about the business of music, so you can make your own success.  This was the driving message to a room full of students who were presumably studying music business?  I think they came to that conclusion already. I was hoping for something more insightful, more specific, something that spoke to the technicalities of working in music business. Now maybe I'm being unfair.   I've been at Berklee awhile and have heard many many many clinics on how to become a successful artist. After two or three you realize that there is no formula for success. I forget that there are students who haven't had the benefit of hearing this message yet.  On the other hand I would have loved to hear something unique.  Especially since this panel was speaking specifically about the business of Hip- Hop. I was curious to see if the experience in the Urban music industry varied much from the other industry representatives Berklee has hosted over the years.  My husband jokingly asked after it was over if they gave advice on how to patch bullet holes in your Escalade, or what the appropriate size for an entourage is. And he's right, their experience seemed no different from any one else who works in this business.  I will say the main attraction of the night Ryan Leslie, was worth the hubbub. Beyond the usual bland advice he put some ideas out there that I'd never heard before and that never occurred to me.  Mainly the idea of using social media not just as a means of getting your music out  there, but as a gauge of whether or not it's any good.  If you put something on Facebook and of your 100+ friends and only 3 people comment on it, then it certainly won't catch the attention of any one else outside of that network. A valid point which made me very insecure about my measly 24 followers on twitter. Geez, maybe I should rethink this blog for that matter.  My own failings aside, it's a novel idea. In this world of instant access there is a way for anyone to say whatever they want to say and get feedback on it. Now he wasn't the only one touting the benefits of using social media but he was the first, and then in true superstar fashion left early to then get on a plane to Paris. And while I had never thought of it that way, telling a group of 18-21 year old the potential of social media is the epitome of preaching to the choir. What everyone failed to mention is the vast amount of luck you need to be "discovered" via the Internet.
                  These talks always seem to center on how to become the next big star, and it makes sense because these panelist all work with big stars, or are big stars, but there are so many ways to live and make music without being a household name.  Frankly the large music industry establishment is running on an antiquated system that is dying out. It's always more interesting to hear how different "indie" musicians have carved a place for themselves.  My favorite example of this was ( not so indie) John Mayer, who said that it's important to always set new goals for yourself. Explaining that as an artist you decide when and what makes you a success.  Can you afford a house and support your life? Did you sell out the 300 seat club you are playing at. There are so many types of success that don't require you to be a phenomenon, they simply require you to be good and work hard. In that case you don't need to worry about creating a brand or image for yourself to sell to labels. Who you are as an artist will develop and solidify with time.  So in between the "find yourself a good manager" and "don't sign anything without a lawyer looking at it first" the underlying message was hone your craft, and learn as much as you can about as many things can, which at the end of the day is a message I can get behind even if I'm a little tired of hearing it.

Drummers the unsung artists

I just finished watching what was admittedly a very boring clinic given by Lewis Nash. But, I couldn't help but appreciate the quality of the clinician not just as a player but in the way he presented his knowledge. Since I'm not a drummer I found the whole thing to be over my head and terribly dull. Still I found my self engaged listening to this man explain his craft both technically and conceptually.  It made me feel like I picked the wrong instrument.  I've never scene a drum clinic that didn't encompass all aspects of playing.  Explaining the mental and physical mechanics of playing as well as the more spiritual or philosophical challenges of making drumming musical.  It always impresses me how eloquently these players can discuss their instrument. 

The Berklee Aesthetic

The Berklee Aesthetic
I have a very general grasp on the English language, it's depth completely lost on me. So when I hear the word "aesthetic" I don't really give it much thought, I understand it to mean all things beautiful.  I'm not even sure if that is an entirely correct understanding of the word but there it is.  So when we recently had a discussion in my department about what we want the "aesthetic" of our halls to be, I was a little confused.  As far as I know we have no control of what gets performed in our halls. And to be terribly clichéd, beauty is in the eye of the beholder: My aesthetic vision for the BPC is going to be entirely different from someone else's. Realizing that there might be some gaps in my knowledge I dusted off my handy, dandy (widget) dictionary and looked it up.  Apparently my definition of aesthetic is the adjective. It can also be used as a noun, which, according to my widget dictionary is "A set of principles underlying and guiding the work of a particular artist or artistic movement."  Aha! So we are not just talking about making pretty music, we are talking about a revolution, a movement. The actual question being posed to me is not what do I want to hear performed, but what music best represents the school's artistic principles. In order to answer that question I have to first determine what the school's artistic principles are, if we even have any.

Before I started my first semester I had the privilege to hear James Carter play at a jam session at Baker's, in Detroit.  Taking pictures of my friends playing together for possibly the last time before we all went our separate ways, I sat next to him and mentioned that I was studying at Berklee in the fall. He made a face, which surprised me, and told me "Just don't lose who you are as a musician." I admittedly didn't really know what he was talking about. Wasn't I heading to the best Jazz music school in the world? How could I do anything but grow as a musician? Now that my school years are behind me I can see some wisdom in his advice as well as perhaps some bitter smugness. Fortunately my mediocrity as a singer ensured that my "artistic integrity" (for what it's worth) remained untainted. But I recall numerous conversations with co-workers and classmates of how much we despised the "Berklee sound". A sound characterized by self-gratifying noodling, boring free jazz, cookie cutter pop divas, all head and no heart; All parts of a machine that is churning out cogs of the industry while neglecting the art. Is this the Berklee aesthetic? Is it an accurate description of the quality of Berklee musicians? Not entirely, but that is certainly the perception. What defines a Berklee musician?  Should there be something that unites us artistically? Do we judge a musician on the quality of his works, his success in the field or by the aesthetic of his creation? It's so difficult to quantify music as an artform that I can't say definitively if Berklee ensures growth as an artist, in the same way that it ensures preparedness for a career. Our motto, "To be, rather than to appear to be" implies actions but doesn't speak to the College’s intellectual aspirations for it’s students. With such a diverse student body, encompassing all of them with a single guiding principle is difficult. Especially with such sentiments as Mr. Carter's.  How can we be a part of a collective while maintaining individuality?
   
I believe it’s possible to be both. If Berklee dedicates itself to nurturing innovative art, we can encourage individuality while presenting a singular artistic vision. We can set a standard that being a Berklee musician means you have a responsibility to push the envelope of musical creativity.  To a certain extent we are already there. New music is constantly being made here, yet I rarely see it performed on campus. I find that odd. If anything the academic environment should encourage students to play music that may not be appreciated elsewhere. Instead, year after year I see and hear the same things over and over again. I see a lot of imitation and little innovation. For example, in the eighteen Singer's Showcases I've seen, I can maybe recall two or three stand out performances. It's disappointing to see that show sold out, while remarkable, interesting music goes unseen. Students approach their classes in the same way. Scoffing at music history class, or trad harm, not appreciating that all knowledge enriches who they are as artists. It always seemed to me that Berklee students were only interested in skills that were directly applicable to what they wanted to do professionally. I should know, because I was one of them. Now, I regret that I didn’t spend my college years immersed in the intellectual pursuits of music as opposed to thinking of the bottom line. I understand that it's hard not to focus on attaining financial security. After all you are going to have to earn a living after school.  But in this nurturing environment you should feel free of those worries and trust that by exploring the possibilities of your craft at college, you will open doors professionally when you leave. So I partly blame the student body for taking knowledge from the school while giving nothing back, but I also know that often times the institution doesn't reward innovation. I can recall one instance where a production teacher criticized my project for not being "marketable." A valid concern, but should I not do the music I enjoy simply because no one else does? I say no, and so should the faculty. Even if the reality is that you have to be able to sell your art in order to live off it, that thought has no place in academia. Some people would argue that point with me. In fact many I've spoken to came to Berklee because of the success of their alumni. Figuring it was a practical choice for someone wanting to work in the music industry. Yet with all of it's talent, and diversity, the perception is that this isn't the place to do something daringly new. It's always a couple steps behind the cutting edge. Changing that would require more open mindedness from teachers and students, and a clear message of what type of an institution we are. Is it about the art? Or is it about the industry? We have the potential to be more than just a training ground for working musicians. And while the school can't force the quality of the art being produced, we can certainly change the aesthetic perception, and perhaps with time the perception will reflect the reality.