#MusicalMondayMemories #7: Playing music with men, and Bjork with Zena Carlota

#MusicalMondayMemories #7: Playing music with men, and Bjork with Zena Carlota 

Who knows where we’ll all be in 5 years? It’s nearly impossible to make a 5-year plan as a musician. 

I realized that the first several musical memories I posted were of music written by men. I’ve spent much of my life being more comfortable with friends that are guys, and being unsure where I fit among girls who talked bad about other people and wore makeup and talked about self care. As an adult, that has evened out a bit, but I still live with my fiancé, Eric, and Drogo AKA Mr. Kitty, so the masculine energy is apparent. Just kidding, they’re both cute and sweet, so I don’t really get the whole thing about dichotomizing masculine and feminine, since everyone has all manners of personality traits.

I spent 4 years at a women’s college, steeped in the music department, surrounded by men. The music department was effectively co-ed because most of the grad students at Mills College from 2010-14 were men and the undergrad program was very small and we shared a lot of classes with grad students. Plus I started playing in the Town Quartet in 2012, with 3 guys (Corey, Jacob, and Lewis, I love you guys!). I wanted to become a better musician, wanted to be versatile and comfortable working with new people, and I honestly didn’t find any reason to concentrate energy on gender bias in music. I just played basically every single thing that came my way. It’s not like non-men were seeking me out, trying to get me to play violin with them. 

The musical circles I ended up in during my remaining years in California happened to be mainly in the man-composer realm. Throughout my time at Mills and my 5 years in Oakland after college, I was too sleep-deprived to consider it at all. And in the end, I like playing music. 

I did for a short time play in a string quartet where the balance was opposite of Town Quartet, 3 women and one man. We grew apart with busy schedules, but I remember Seismic fondly and appreciated the different feel, interacting with only musical concepts on the plate during rehearsals. (Now, don’t get me wrong, it was relaxing to zone out for a few minutes here and there while the TQ guys talked sports, but it wasn’t always my favorite part of rehearsal.) 

Now, I have time to think. To be truthful, historically it has been a lot easier for men to have monetary freedom and visible creative value.

It’s unfortunate that there is a lack of representation for women and non-binary composers and musicians throughout much of classical music history. That I still have to intentionally think about it means that it is still true today. Many people do critique the musical world, and society at large, in relation to biases, but in day-to-day life our goal is generally to make it through a day with the least friction possible. It makes sense, considering how insanely busy almost everyone that I know is, and on top of that how many things there are out there to click on.

It’s wonderful to see programs of all female composers, calls for works by female/LGBTQIA+ composers, and all that, but when will it be common for a work by someone who isn’t a man to just be on a regular concert? And when will an orchestra be as varied gender- and race-wise as the musicians around the world? 

Looking at photographs of orchestras, even 50 years ago it was still a hugely gendered career. Blind auditions became common during the 1970s and ‘80s, and carpets are commonly placed in audition environments to avoid the sonic recognition of heeled shoes. It has obviously worked wonders, but I’d be interested to know more specifically about women in principal positions, since later rounds in auditions are often no longer blind.

Most men in music seem human, sensitive and all that - it’s not like a bro-hipster-football hunk type (to put some stereotypes in there) is going to become a classical musician. But then we reach the question of whether there is still more support for men in the leadership sense, whether qualities of assertiveness and ambition are more readily attributed and cultivated in boys. 

I attribute a lot of my communication missteps to lack of experience with effective dialogue. I’m sure it’s partially that I was homeschooled through 10th grade. There were supplemental classes, and community college classes, but it was still much different environment-wise than the horrors of reality that are public school. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about communication the last few years, though, and I believe fully that some of the issues I came across would not have been brought to light if I was a guy. 

As with gender, I didn’t think much in the past about intentional communication, so when things blew up or I started crying because I was uncomfortable (if this happens to you, too, it’s more common than I thought) I kind of shut down. Now, I’ve had several months of good sleep and lots of time to think, and the percolating thoughts are varied. Whether writing a story about a squirrel who works in a bank, practicing Paganini’s Caprice No. 10, or doing yoga in the morning, I’m finally ready to push myself forward. 

Really, don’t we all want to always be learning new things?

Ok, onto the musical tidbit for this week. 

I was part of a tribute album in 2016 for Bjork’s “Homogenic.” Although there were rehearsals involved, it mainly consisted of some hours at Fantasy Studios in Berkeley CA. (Fantasy was instrumental for many, many albums over the years, but is no longer open as of 2018.) It’s weird that it used to be normal for me to just be part of one or two songs with a group, and to never perform them live. 

Only a few years later, I have had the opportunity to record several albums where I was part of the whole project, and I have to say - it’s much more interesting that way. Being a hired hand violinist, there for the long notes and string pads and snacks, not so fun. Looking back, experiences I had recording with different people did help me learn how much or how little can go into a great piece of music. 

I took part in 3 songs for this album, with Zena Carlota, ANML, and Redwood Tango Ensemble.

But this is about Zena Carlota. I didn’t get to know her personally in the brief time I worked on her song, but she has a website that I was just exploring, and she is pretty amazing. Check her out here: www.zenacarlota.com

This song with Zena, Unravel, is one I sadly don’t remember much about. I remember gathering in a house for a rehearsal. I remember it was pretty music. I recently watched some YouTube videos of her other music and find it enchanting, so at least this is a jumping off point for me enjoying her work. 

Go here to listen to Unravel, and buy as much music of local artists on Bandcamp as you can because they actually pay musicians a good bit (compared to Spotify and the like): https://undercoverpresents.bandcamp.com/track/unravel

I love that so many of us musicians don’t have one job, that we play a variety of musical styles and often make our own music. It’s nice to look at musical memories from a distance, sometimes further than I expect. I’m sure it’ll be like this a lot, coming across musicians I played with at some point as they expand and explore their musical expression and life. 

The possibilities are endless, the path is meandering, goals shift, and life is always happening now, whether we feel ourselves within it or not.

#MusicalMondayMemories #6: Quartet for the End of Time (take 3)

Whether you’re a performer or listener, isn’t a live performance the best? 

Live, local chamber music. Think about that for a minute - it’s a big deal! 

These days, when you go to a big show you’re likely to see a lot of people with their phones out. When you’re at an intimate show, or in a place where phones aren’t appreciated during a concert, it feels different. More inviting, I think, for both listeners and performers.  

A huge part of any show is the environment, how the room feels, how the performers interact with each other and with the audience. Do you have an example from your own musical experiences where it felt like everyone in a room just clicked?

I remember feeling like this during a performance of Messiaen’s “Quartet for the End of Time” back in January 2018. I was performing the Messiaen - and a couple of new works for the same instrumentation - with pianist Naomi Stine, clarinetist Kyle Beard, and cellist Misha Khalikulov. 

This show was the only time I played at the Center for New Music in SF with a full audience. It’s a supportive venue, but not often well-attended. It probably helped that people involved in the program (performers and composers) were not just part of the classical music scene. 

Despite having just gotten over the flu (I’ll share a video soon from playing with Evanescence while Dayquiling it up and trying to be on the mend), it was a lovely experience, and one of the first times I remember feeling a bit manic after a performance. I had probably finally gotten enough sleep by then.

It was a fun 3rd time working up this piece with a group! The first was when I was 18, and that was really the start of my sinking deeply into 20th century (and newer) music. I hope for more Messiaen experiences in future years.

It’s usually hard for me to look back on videos of performances because I get stuck on the mistakes, but in the moment mistakes pass by and the music flows on. The important thing is the feeling of the music, the energy of the sound.

“Quartet for the End of Time” was written in 1941 while the composer was in a German prisoner of war camp, Stalag VIII-A (now part of Poland). It was performed for the first time with Messiaen on piano, joined by fellow prisoners. What an intense piece, what crazy roots it stemmed from, and it’s amazing that Messiaen was released soon after because of documents forged by a guard (who also helped facilitate his composing). Messiaen held onto something in music that kept him going even in the scariest of circumstances, and it held him back throughout his life. There’s so much that can be said about Messiaen, but for today I want to simply appreciate the transcendent quality of his works. After you check out some of our performance (the movements are labeled so you can skip around), go close your eyes and listen to something of his for solo organ.

#MusicalMondayMemories #5: Fist of Fast Wishes

This is the perfect week to be writing about Charles Gorczynski and the Redwood Tango Ensemble. I had a conversation over coffee with Charles several weeks ago on a whirlwind 24 hours visiting Oakland, and you should see the spreadsheets hanging on my wall today. Thank you, Charles, for sharing some of your amazing goal-orienting ideas.

The RTE members were some of the first musicians I had more philosophical life conversations with than scheduling ones. It was also the first time I memorized pieces with a group, like for this video of “Fist of Fast Wishes” from our 2018 album, Prizefighter. We recorded the audio (RIP Fantasy Studios in Berkeley), and then played it over and over again to get visuals from different angles.  

RTE was a fun and intense group to play with. Working with Charles and the other lovely musicians (Ishtar, Anton, Dan, Elyse) was a special experience. Weekly morning rehearsals went in waves of feeling right and feeling sleepy. Did I give the other string players too many thoughts on bowings? Maybe. 

I miss the music and the company, and - as with everything I left back in California - this is not the end of RTE. Charles is prolific and dedicated, and his music grooves and soars, full of emotion. I have a deep appreciation for traditional tango style, and for the weaving of styles that is modern chamber music, and I’m excited to see what they do next! 

This June, we spent a week rehearsing in the Washington woods and recording an album in Seattle (with a couple beautiful additional musicians, Sarah and Ben). When the songs come out, we’ll get to relive the melodies and textures with their new life.

For a while, RTE was the most regular ensemble I played with. In fact, I wouldn’t have experienced Maine without them! A trio tour with Charles and Elyse brought us to Portland in fall 2018. When deciding where to move, I remembered the cobblestones and ocean fondly. It really is the perfect little city. Living 30 minutes away - surrounded by trees - is a combination of access and seclusion I appreciate immensely. Add regular precipitation, and you get everything I wanted in leaving California.

Before I moved, the Bay Area had taken on a feeling of stagnation. Living in a place with seasons is slowly dusting that away. Time helps. What matters deeply can be ingrained into each goal to build upon itself, cares gaining momentum. 

Without time, I would still be worried every day that I was half-assing each project. Honestly, this is the first week I’ve actually gotten everything done that was on my weekly schedule, after setting my sights on what I really love and spending months narrowing my goals down to reasonable. Editing this blog post is the last thing! 

So, here I am, not much paying work yet, but more enthusiastic about thoughts than any other year I can remember. And 2020 will build on that. See you in two weeks!