Music and musings

Performing nothing but new music, alone, for more than an hour is quite a workout.  I didn’t realize how tough it was before I began my Queering the Pitch recital project.  I just completed my fourteenth performance of the recital at the University of Georgia, where I am a doctoral student.  As I walked off stage for the last time following Britten’s Third Suite for Cello, I realized that I was literally sweating through my shirt where my cello meets my chest (GROSS!) and my arms were quite tired from such an acrobatic program.

This isn’t to say that performing alone is not exhilarating - it absolutely is!  All musical ideas and gestures are produced entirely by me alone without any interferences.  This also isn’t to say that I hate performing with others, quite the opposite!  As I’m typing this blog, I’m in my office waiting for the Hodgson String Quartet (in which I am the cellist) to begin our Wednesday rehearsal.  To paraphrase one of the most fantastic musicians I’ve ever played with, the pianist Judith Gordon, “music is so much more fun when you’re playing with others!”

This Friday I board a plane for Boston where I’ll be presenting yet another Queering the Pitch concert.  This performance has been generously sponsored by The Boston Conservatory, my second alma mater, and I’m terribly excited to return to play music in an environment that is ridiculously supportive of both LGBTQ rights/people and new music.  Read my previous posting to get more of a sense of the meaning of this project.

I sat down with the intention to write a long blog about music and recent experiences, but I’m finding it difficult to come up with words.  So, I’ll end this brief post by again quoting Ned Rorem:

"The hardest of all the arts to speak of is music, because music has no meaning to speak of."

Small audiences and large dreams

Last night, July 11, I played a concert at the First Unitarian Universalist Church of San Francisco.  It was a different kind of experience because the audience was so small - five people, only.  It turns out that doing no publicity tends to result in no attendance!  Who knew?!  It was interesting to play for such a small crowd because the concert experience becomes much more intimate.  Instead of lecturing on the music from the notes I've taken, which are very general in nature, I thought I'd talk a bit more about how each piece of music relates to the other, and how they all harken back to Bach.

The audience was nice, and they gave some nice comments after the fact.  Still, though, I prefer performing to a larger house, like the one that I had in Atlanta and will hopefully play for tonight at the SF LGBT Community Center.

In a somewhat unrelated topic, I'm happy to report that I've received a post-doc fellowship to be "redeemed" within three years (need to finish this doctorate straight away, then)!  This has caused me to start looking at my future a bit more closely.  Would I like to live on the West Coast? (Yes!!  Please!!)  Do I prefer cities in Northern California (like San Francisco), SoCal (LA), or the Pacific Northwest (Seattle, Portland, et al)?  What do I really want to DO with my life?  I was pretty sure that I had it all figured out until recently: teach at a college/university, perform in a string quartet and do some recital work, and probably teach privately on the side. It all seems fine and dandy, and would make my life utterly complete, but is it reasonable in this country, culture, and economy?  Despite my big dreams, I still have bills and lots of student loans to pay!  Also...eat.  Dreams are wonderful, but I don't know if I'm the type of person who is willing to just take a leap and see where I end up.  I'm also only now becoming more entrepreneurial.  I have a long way to go!  My heart is palpitating just thinking about it!

I received a comment at one of my recent concerts about how the "new" music that I'm performing makes some members of the audience uncomfortable. To paraphrase, "It makes me squeeze my hands in to fists," he said.  Since I have always thought that my career was going in a 60/40 new music/traditional music direction, that comment caused me to rethink a bit the path that my career was taking.  When the audience doesn't like what you're performing, is that reason enough to change?  Or does one just have to go further to really sell the music to the audience.  Is personally enjoying what I'm playing enough to get by?  Or does my enjoyment need to REALLY shine through and be passed on to those listening?  I guess I had always hoped that the music would speak for itself and that audience enjoyment would come just from listening.

My friend, the fantastic cellist, Jennifer Bewerse, is so wonderful at connecting with her audience and expressing every emotion in the music, no matter how new, obscure, or - frankly - terrible.  I'm envious of her ability to do so; perhaps that's what I'm missing.  Maybe tonight, I'll try to lift that invisible iron curtain a little more and really pass on my passion for this music to those listening.  After all, this is a San Francisco audience - listening to music by gay composers at that! - and I think they will really be drawn in to what they hear!  This is something to ponder...

In the name of Bach,
JD