I'm a hippy. I grew up on hippy music and, well, jazz. You know, hipster music. I love it all. It's been a blessed life of never ending discovery. I've learned to appreciate music from all over this planet.
Years ago, I mean, many years ago when I was in high school there was another student who was a pretty amazing classical pianist. We went to Centennial High School, a public school which is a part of Ellicott City Maryland and this kid was as much of an oddball as I. He went to a bi-weekly lesson in Philadelphia to study with a guy who studied with a guy who studied with a guy who studied with Franz Liszt or Chopin or one of those cats. This kid wore nice clothes, the kind of clothes that gets you ridiculed by other kids, suits and bow ties. I had my hush puppies, jean jackets, a funny mustache and a big afro. Not exactly dressed in the current fashion and I got ridiculed plenty for it too. He came off as a bit stiff, maybe arrogant, removed from the rest. Kinda like me in my own way. I wasn't stiff, but I was scared, and certainly my arrogance showed cause it was my way of being safe and ugh, "superior."
I can't say that was his experience but can say that we probably had a lot more in common than I could see then.
I did my four years there, he vanished after about a year hopefully to move into a safer setting. You know, one of those gifted and talented schools. I may have been gifted or talented but the thought of going into a program like that was "uncool" to a kid like me.
One day we were in the music room during our lunch break. Probably just a good place for us to hide out from the bully ways of many of our peers. He was practicing his concert pieces and I was quietly playing some acoustic guitar on one of the schools cheap Yamaha gut string instruments. We actually had a guitar program led by Ms. Ruckert thank god.
He asked me what was I playing and I told him "oh I'm just making stuff up." He then asked "How do you do that?"
I replied "I don't really know, I just learned some scales and I just kinda do it." I then asked him "How the hell do you do what you do?"
The kid had chops.... Whether I liked his musical choices or not I was amazed by his ability!
I don't remember his reply. We weren't friends, just 2 misfits escaping school life for forty minutes.
Now, don't get me wrong. I would not have wanted his life which was undoubtedly headed towards winning competitions and maybe, at least in my young point of view, restrictive. I liked the illusion of being 'free' that I hung on to in those days. I was also hellbent on the ridiculous idea of being "self taught" like Jimi Hendrix as if that's any real virtue. And no, I do not believe in that any longer, I don't even think Jimi was "self taught." It's more likely that he was just brilliant, talented, imaginative and learned guitar from cats who learned something on guitar last week. Any of the old jazz players I knew, that's how they learned, on the bandstand from folks that were better than they were. And that's still gaining instruction. In today's life, ask me anything and I'll share. I love to help another!
So anyway, back to the subject. I went on about my life with all that pride that I could just make stuff up and all, and it served me well. And I have zero regrets. It's fun to jam. It's even more fun to invent.
And now I find joy in composing. I'm really no different than the young guitarist in that band room and I'm probably more like the young pianist now too. Composing is writing down an improvisation to me. And oddly enough I'm finding a new quality of freedom in the process. I can write a melody and when I get tired of it I can choose any note to start another direction. It's fun to find my way back home, and overwhelming cause, there's so much freedom it becomes daunting to make choices. Sometimes I'll limit myself to a few notes, other times explore whatever comes to mind.
It's a way slower process. I like that most days and some days I don't. I'm learning a new level of patience. It takes weeks to get something under my fingers and sometimes months for it to become music to my ears.
The young pianist in the music room. Something I didn't understand about the life of a classical musician was the choice to be an interpreter. I didn't understand much beyond the notes on a written page. I couldn't understand what made someone like Sonnenberg or Horowitz or Segovia so compelling. And having been surrounded by the free improvisation scene much of my life, who could be really critical of the classical musician calling them 'cover bands' or 'craftspeople, not artist', that never resonated with me. Few spoke of discipline, interpretation and some of the things I really admire. If there's one wish I had for my young self, it would be to keep an open mind. I lost out on melody big time. Something I'm obsessed with today. And actively composing, learning other pieces, my improvising has become far more melodic, I take more risk and feel I have a more solid foundation to build on.
It feels good to admit this at my age, and to start over again. I'll never stop improvising whether in the moment or with pencil and paper. I'll just always choose growth and curiosity over fear from here on.
I often wonder about that piano kid. He's grown up now of course. I do not remember his name so I can't cyberstalk him (social media creeps me out!!!). I wonder if he ever learned to "just make things up"? I wonder if that little insignificant moment in a high school band room has had an impact on him at all? Or did he just move on and become a fine concert pianist? Did he do like many and give up playing to do something one can make six figures at doing? Is he composing or performing brain surgery or working retail somewhere? What's his take on musical freedom? What's mine?
-J 4/18/2020
Years ago, I mean, many years ago when I was in high school there was another student who was a pretty amazing classical pianist. We went to Centennial High School, a public school which is a part of Ellicott City Maryland and this kid was as much of an oddball as I. He went to a bi-weekly lesson in Philadelphia to study with a guy who studied with a guy who studied with a guy who studied with Franz Liszt or Chopin or one of those cats. This kid wore nice clothes, the kind of clothes that gets you ridiculed by other kids, suits and bow ties. I had my hush puppies, jean jackets, a funny mustache and a big afro. Not exactly dressed in the current fashion and I got ridiculed plenty for it too. He came off as a bit stiff, maybe arrogant, removed from the rest. Kinda like me in my own way. I wasn't stiff, but I was scared, and certainly my arrogance showed cause it was my way of being safe and ugh, "superior."
I can't say that was his experience but can say that we probably had a lot more in common than I could see then.
I did my four years there, he vanished after about a year hopefully to move into a safer setting. You know, one of those gifted and talented schools. I may have been gifted or talented but the thought of going into a program like that was "uncool" to a kid like me.
One day we were in the music room during our lunch break. Probably just a good place for us to hide out from the bully ways of many of our peers. He was practicing his concert pieces and I was quietly playing some acoustic guitar on one of the schools cheap Yamaha gut string instruments. We actually had a guitar program led by Ms. Ruckert thank god.
He asked me what was I playing and I told him "oh I'm just making stuff up." He then asked "How do you do that?"
I replied "I don't really know, I just learned some scales and I just kinda do it." I then asked him "How the hell do you do what you do?"
The kid had chops.... Whether I liked his musical choices or not I was amazed by his ability!
I don't remember his reply. We weren't friends, just 2 misfits escaping school life for forty minutes.
Now, don't get me wrong. I would not have wanted his life which was undoubtedly headed towards winning competitions and maybe, at least in my young point of view, restrictive. I liked the illusion of being 'free' that I hung on to in those days. I was also hellbent on the ridiculous idea of being "self taught" like Jimi Hendrix as if that's any real virtue. And no, I do not believe in that any longer, I don't even think Jimi was "self taught." It's more likely that he was just brilliant, talented, imaginative and learned guitar from cats who learned something on guitar last week. Any of the old jazz players I knew, that's how they learned, on the bandstand from folks that were better than they were. And that's still gaining instruction. In today's life, ask me anything and I'll share. I love to help another!
So anyway, back to the subject. I went on about my life with all that pride that I could just make stuff up and all, and it served me well. And I have zero regrets. It's fun to jam. It's even more fun to invent.
And now I find joy in composing. I'm really no different than the young guitarist in that band room and I'm probably more like the young pianist now too. Composing is writing down an improvisation to me. And oddly enough I'm finding a new quality of freedom in the process. I can write a melody and when I get tired of it I can choose any note to start another direction. It's fun to find my way back home, and overwhelming cause, there's so much freedom it becomes daunting to make choices. Sometimes I'll limit myself to a few notes, other times explore whatever comes to mind.
It's a way slower process. I like that most days and some days I don't. I'm learning a new level of patience. It takes weeks to get something under my fingers and sometimes months for it to become music to my ears.
The young pianist in the music room. Something I didn't understand about the life of a classical musician was the choice to be an interpreter. I didn't understand much beyond the notes on a written page. I couldn't understand what made someone like Sonnenberg or Horowitz or Segovia so compelling. And having been surrounded by the free improvisation scene much of my life, who could be really critical of the classical musician calling them 'cover bands' or 'craftspeople, not artist', that never resonated with me. Few spoke of discipline, interpretation and some of the things I really admire. If there's one wish I had for my young self, it would be to keep an open mind. I lost out on melody big time. Something I'm obsessed with today. And actively composing, learning other pieces, my improvising has become far more melodic, I take more risk and feel I have a more solid foundation to build on.
It feels good to admit this at my age, and to start over again. I'll never stop improvising whether in the moment or with pencil and paper. I'll just always choose growth and curiosity over fear from here on.
I often wonder about that piano kid. He's grown up now of course. I do not remember his name so I can't cyberstalk him (social media creeps me out!!!). I wonder if he ever learned to "just make things up"? I wonder if that little insignificant moment in a high school band room has had an impact on him at all? Or did he just move on and become a fine concert pianist? Did he do like many and give up playing to do something one can make six figures at doing? Is he composing or performing brain surgery or working retail somewhere? What's his take on musical freedom? What's mine?
-J 4/18/2020
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