What am I supposed to be learning? Music proficiency or poise and grace?

Here I offer my first piano performance exam of the semester. Class Piano 2. Ivan Sings composed by Aram Khatchaturian. Well, Ivan attempts to sing through the piano and me and has a difficult time expressing himself. My first performance B in piano. No one got an A. Dr. Termini gave a very rousing lecture afterwards on expression in music and likened us to lifeless drones or something like that.

He asked us to ask ourselves why we wanted to be musicians. It's a good question. He said that the world is full of people who were technically proficient and that's not enough to sell tickets. If they can't 'feel you', they'll be bored. You have to connect to the audience. Share the experience with them. He's shown us video clips of some great performers so that we could see that it didn't matter that they missed a note here or there- the audiences loved them and didn't care because they were so moved.

Dr. Termini wants us to take risks - to risk missing a key if it's going to mean that we're up there saying something and not just going through the motions. It was quite a memorable speech. My friend Amber wished we had gotten it on video. I can really appreciate him wanting to set the bar high and to pass on what he has learned in his experience. He wants us to succeed. He cares:)

I care. This was the hardest piece yet. I made a lot of mistakes. Apparently, I even learned one note wrong. I had just memorized it, so I thought. It definitely was not an A performance. Not only did I get some notes wrong, have pauses due to rough transitions, and my bass was too loud, but I got points deducted for vocalizing my displeasure at my stumbling. It's a bad habit. When I perform with my guitar at open mics, sometimes when I mess up, I let out a screeching 'Aaaaaah! that reminds me of James Brown.

My other pieces last semester, I had memorized at least a week before the test and had time to work on expression. My first piece used to bring me to tears. I had finally gotten to the point a day or so before that I wasn't constantly focused on technique and was moved. It didn't happen during the performance though. I was still memorizing and working on technique. Especially those grace notes. I learned a lot. It kinda felt like I was trying to pat my head and rub my tummy at the same time.

AND..... I am totally stoked to be playing the piano!!! Who would have thought? I didn't even know there was a bass clef until the first day of piano last semester:) hee hee. I thought Every Good Boy Did Fine and that was it. I'll catch up with the band kids yet!!!!

Dr. Termini had us practice in front of the class the week before and it was wild. I didn't want to go. I didn't have it memorized. I still was getting lost. I had some of it memorized and I'm still so new to reading notes that sometimes I had the hardest time finding where I was in the score. I'd look down at my fingers and think 'okay, I need to find a place where there's a G in the right hand and an F and a C sharp in the left.' Sometimes, I just couldn't find where I was and would just have to start over from the beginning. The only thing that was working well was the pedal. I was one of the last people to go. Earlier, one young girl in the class sat down at the piano and was so frustrated with mistakes right at the beginning that she banged her hands on the keyboard and walked off, refusing to try again. I could relate to that feeling. I was sitting there thinking 'This is going to be sad.' Luckily, I also had the thought 'Well, this is my offering. I can't be any better than I am right now. I'll do the best I can.'

I walked up to the piano. I sat down and, miraculously it seemed, was really kind to myself and present. I focused on what I was doing and wasn't worried about what people were thinking, just what to do next. And next. And next. Dr. Termini helped me find my place and then at one point had me just move on to the next section. So I did without any self deprecating thoughts. Just doing the next thing as instructed. (Follow the simple instructions, Byron Katie says.) And I made it. To the end and didn't cut off the last note like most people had done, glad to have gotten the public practice over with, leaping out of the spotlight as soon as possible.

With gratitude, I let that last chord ring out and I listened. And then I turned to my audience, my classmates, with a huge smile, waved my fist in the air and yelled out 'Yeah!' And it's true that the audience wants you to succeed because everyone cheered with me. If I had dissed myself, people may have felt uncomfortable for me and squirmed in their seats. I put them at ease with my acceptance of myself except for one classmate who is as hard on herself as I am on me who said in disbelief: 'You're happy with that?!?'

Indeed I was. Happy to be playing the piano. Happy to be learning about music and about life. Cheri Huber says the process is more important than the content. I think she's right. I am happy to be supported by so many beings including myself, 'mistakes' and all.

The Singing Ladies of Ferrara

So...since I have hardly posted anything since school started last fall, let me share some of what I've been learning...here's my research paper for music literature last semester. I found it really interesting to study female musicians in the renaissance. Here's a link to a group in collaboration with a musicologist who is attempting to recreate their work called Musica Secreta. Hope you like it:)

The Singing Ladies of Ferrara

The latter part of the sixteenth century was a transitional time in music and art, a time of new ideas and experimentation and a mingling of art forms. Much music was written in Italy. The next musical era, the Baroque, would see the birth of Italian Opera. But before the rise of opera divas, there were the Singing Ladies of Ferrara. These accomplished musicians became known throughout Italy and abroad for their virtuous singing. Their style was copied by other ‘concerti di donne’ which arose during this time. They inspired poets and composers including Renaissance poet Torquato Tasso who in 1593 published this verse, ‘Forse e cagion l’aurora’, in tribute to one of its later members:

Perhaps the reason for the dawn is the beautiful sound

the leaves and branches and the waters and the wind make?

O in this sweet way, the sky honours Tarquinia

and because of her falls in love with the earth.

I hear, or it seems to me, I hear a voice: it can only be hers;

Lo, Tarquinia comes, and Love approaches. (1-9)

They were ‘professional’ musicians at a time when women could not officially be professional musicians. Though overlooked for centuries, modern scholars and vocalists are now paying tribute to this remarkable group of women in writing and performance (Gras). Who were these ‘ladies’ and what causes and conditions coalesced to create this musical phenomenon?

The Singing Ladies of Ferrara were not a group of women who decided to form a group and support themselves by selling recordings and touring. This would not have been possible during the time in which they lived. Women during the Renaissance had little choice in their vocation outside of child rearing. The incomes and careers of women who had them were managed by their husbands or fathers (Pendle 83). At this time, some singers were amateur noble women members of court and such as the renowned Lucrezia Bendidio, born in 1547 (Paganuzzi 467). Most of the women with more training were courtesans who made up the majority of singers at court from the Middle Ages through the first half of the sixteenth century (Jander 341). Courtesans were highly trained prostitutes who wined, dined and entertained their male guests with music and witty conversation (Pendle 57). During the late Renaissance in Italy, much care was taken to ensure distinction between the two (Pendle 83). The ‘Singing Ladies’ were neither courtesans nor were they of noble birth. How, then, did they come to be?

Laura Peverara, Anna Guarini and Livia D’Arco were brought together in 1580 by a man with power: Duke Alfonso II of Ferrara. He was a patron of music as were the three Dukes that came before him (Lockwood, 486). A rich musical tradition existed at the Este Court. In the 15^th century, it had become internationally important as a musical center (Lockwood 486). Important visitors were treated to the Duke’s private chamber music, which became known as Musica Secreta. In 1580, the Duke married his third wife, Margherita of Mantua, who was also a patron of music. She was fifteen and in part to entertain her, he assembled more singers. Lucrezia Bendidio, mentioned earlier, had been retained at court by marriage. He had tried to go this accepted route and assemble more women of nobility who could sing, but was not successful. The last noblewoman he had ‘acquired’, Leonora Santivale, had died in childbirth (Gras). Not giving up his love of music, he then looked to the artisan classes (Gras) finding ways to make it work within the confines of his time. He brought over Laura Peverara, born in 1545, the daughter of a wealthy Mantuan merchant, older, and already known to be a singer of great excellence and charm (Newcomb 605). Laura was an accomplished harp player (Gras). Anna Guarini was the daughter of the famous Ferrarese poet, Battista Guarini (Hanning 771). Livia D’Arco was the youngest member and though she was from a minor noble family, it would not have been enough for her to be a member of the Duke’s court. She was brought for her musical potential, immediately beginning study of the lute (Gras). In need of further training, she did not perform with the group until 1582 (Pendle 80). He had earlier hired a male singer, Brancaccio, but then fired him in 1583 for insubordination. He was not replaced which left an all female ensemble.

The three women; Laura Peverara, Anna Guarini and Livia D’Arco; were all officially ladies-in-waiting to the Duchess of Ferrara and accompanied her on outings. None of them would have been in this position without talent as musicians and therefore were an anomalous entity in this time period. Arriving unmarried, marriages to nobles of Ferrara were arranged to lend respectability to the court, clearly differentiating them from courtesan status and, in the case of Guarini and D’Arco, removing them from the ‘ownership’ of the Mantuan court. Unfortunately, Anna Guarini’s jealous husband would later murder her under the pretext of infidelity (Hanning 771).

These three ladies remained in the service of the Duke from their arrival in 1580 until 1598 when the court dissolved after his death without heir (Lockwood 486). He had earlier hired a male singer, Brancaccio, but then fired him in 1583 for insubordination. He was not replaced which left an all female ensemble.

Tarquinia Molza, an older woman with higher social status was brought in as a performer and mentor to the group in 1583 (Newcomb “Molza” 474). She was the niece of a famous poet and was, in her own right, a poet, musician and scholar recognized in academic circles (Gras). A widow, she had studied music with the approval of her husband. Her five-year membership came to an end in 1589 when her affair with composer Giaches de Wert was discovered (Newcomb “Molza” 474).

The group had a rigorous schedule. In addition to their ladies-in-waiting duties, the women rehearsed four to six hours a day. The Duke listened to them two to four hours daily in his private chamber (Newcomb “Madrigal” 470). They sang singly, in duos and in trios (Strainchamps 378). In addition to singing their repertoire, they could sight read from part books (Pendle 82). Each member was proficient with at least one instrument and could accompany herself and/or the ensemble (Pendle 82). They also performed in the court balleti singing and dancing (Pendle 82).

What were ‘Ladies’ singing? They were performing the most important secular genre of music of the Renaissance: the Italian madrigal. The madrigal was a combination of poetry and music; a popular form of entertainment in Italian courts (Forney 114). Late Renaissance madrigals were especially rich, directly expressing the composer’s musical personality with chromatic harmony, and dramatic declarations vividly depicting emotion (Forney 116). The Ladies’ early repertoire consisted of embellished and modified existing madrigals and later included works composed specifically for them.

The Concerto Delle Donne differed from earlier singers in their virtuosic vocal style (Pendle 81). During this time, the soprano voice emerged as a major player in performance and an influential factor in composition (Jander 341). It is believed that the women probably improvised in rehearsal and then committed the perfected harmonic improvisations to memory (Pendle 82). This ‘new style’ of singing showcased wide-ranging and technically demanding ornamentation (Newcomb, “Madrigal” 470). For example, singers used low or high tessitura, unusual vocal intervals including the tritone, the 7^th, 9^th and 10^th (Newcomb “Madrigal” 470). There were also abrupt silences and contrasts of tempo (Newcomb “Madrigal” 471). Madrigals of the 1580s became increasing ‘saturated’ with ornamented diminutions. This was not for the amateur singer.

Composers were inspired to write out ornamented vocal lines after hearing the ‘voguish new sound of an ensemble of high voices’ (Jander 341). Five staves including three soprano melodies can be seen in manuscripts from this time (Pendle 81). The director of the Musica Secreta, composer Luzzasco Luzzaschi, took five voice madrigals, and used lower voices for accompaniment and higher voices for the sopranos (Gras). An example of one of the works composed by Luzzaschi and thought to be part of the ‘secret’ repertoire not allowed to be published until after Duke Alfonso II’s death is the “Madrigali per cantare et sonare a 1-3 soprani” (Strainchamps 378). Monteverdi, a prominent madrigalist, visited and his subsequent works indicate the influence of his hearing of the Singing Ladies. In his first book of madrigals, the bass enters only after eight or more bars of rest; after the entry of soprano voices (Jander 341). The work, “Solo e pensoso”, of the composer Giaches de Wert shows the influence of the singing ladies (Newcomb “Madrigal” 471).

The benefits accorded the Concerto Delle Donne were many. Laura Peverara received a dowry for her marriage, an apartment in the ducal palace and stipends for her mother and husband (Pendle 83). Torquato Tasso dedicated many poems to her. In addition, three important musical anthologies were dedicated to her (Newcomb “Peverara” 605). During her tenure, Tarquinia Molza, a widower, instead of a receiving another husband, negotiated an apartment and a salary more than twice as high as Luzzaschi (Pendle 83). Later in her life, she became the first woman to receive Roman citizenship (Pendle 83). Anna Guarino and Livia D’Arco were flattered with poetry.

Though not all of its members achieved the same renown, the group, Concerto Delle Donne, became known far and wide and what evolved from the group singing together is of lasting import. The Singing Ladies were influenced by and then influenced the madrigal composers of the time. Together, performer, composer, patron and audience charted new territory. The uncharacteristic path of their lives helped shape a change in the relationship of women to music. Opera singers of the following era would have much more freedom, be recognized as professionals, and would not be required to marry and risk the murderous impulses of a jealous husband. Duke Alfonso II did not know what would be created when he sought out singers. He let his love of music lead the way. These ‘ladies-in-waiting’ must wait no longer for recognition not just as a Renaissance popular group that would have sold many CDs and filled many concert halls, but of their contribution to the evolution of music. Now, thanks to the formation of the musical group, Musica Secreta, in the 1980s, we can all be ‘important’ visitors to the Duke’s private chambers and pay our tribute.

Works Cited

Forney, Kristine and Joseph Machlis. The Enjoyment of Music. 10 ed. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, Inc. 2007. Print.

Gras, Laurie. “Early Music Times: Concerti di donne.” Dangerous Graces. U of Southampton. Feb. 2000. Web. 30 November 2009.

Jander, Owen. “Singing.” The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians^Ò. Ed. Stanley Sadie. New York: MacMillan Publishers, Limited. 17. 1980. 338-346. Print.

Lockwood, Lewis. “Ferrara.” The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians^Ò. Ed. Stanley Sadie. New York: MacMillan Publishers, Limited. 6. 1980. 486-489. Print.

Newcomb, Anthony. “Laura (Peperara) Peverara. The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians^Ò. Ed. Stanley Sadie. New York: MacMillan Publishers, Limited. 14. 1980. 605. Print.

Newcomb, Anthony. “Tarquinia Molza.” The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians^Ò. Ed. Stanley Sadie. New York: MacMillan Publishers, Limited. 12. 1980. 474. Print.

Paganuzzi, Enrico. “Lucrezia Bendidio.” The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians^Ò. Ed. Stanley Sadie. New York: MacMillan Publishers, Limited. 2. 1980. 467. Print.

Pendle, Karen. “Musical Women in Early Modern Europe.” Women & Music: a history. Ed. Karen Pendle. Bloomington: Indiana U P, 2001. 57 – 96. Print.

Tasso, Torquato. “Forse e cagion l’aurora.” 1593. Dangerous Graces. U of Southampton. Oct. 2002. Web. 30 November 2009.

Hanning, B. Russano. “Battista (Giovanni) Guarini.” The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians^Ò. Ed. Stanley Sadie. New York: MacMillan Publishers, Limited. 7. 1980. 770-772. Print.

Strainchamps, Edmond. “Luzzasco Luzzaschi.” The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians^Ò. Ed. Stanley Sadie. New York: MacMillan Publishers, Limited. 11. 1980. 378-381. Print.

Newcomb, Anthony. “Madrigal: The 1580s: The ornamented style: Dissemination of the hybrid madrigal.” The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians^Ò. Ed. Stanley Sadie. New York: MacMillan Publishers, Limited. 1980. 2. 470 – 471. Print.

Waiting For Plates

School's out for winter. Yippee! My workaholic, perfectionistic tendencies didn't allow for much socializing last semester at 'music school.' I am still adjusting to being back in the Lone Star state and am slowly finding like-minded individuals and groups of people who share my values. It's taking much more effort than I am used to and part of it is how spread out everyone is here. So much commuting and living off

this highway and that highway - all these towns dotting Interstate 45 in between the Gulf of Mexico and Houston - doesn't favor a sense of community. Most people I work with don't even live in the town in which we work. I am connected to a community in Houston, the Houston Zen Center - but I haven't seen them much. I'm not used to having to drive everywhere. I think of oil and time. I'm used to living in community so small you don't even need a bicycle, much less a car. No environmental guilt. No wasting time in transit. Although I have noticed as I've ventured out more since school's been out how inspiring a drive is for composing lyrics. "Bright Lights" and "Kanzeon" arose during my last jaunt up to the big city. And why was I headed to the H-town?

I was superstoked. I was going to feed some homeless persons downtown. On a date. A first date with a guy I met at a party. I had gone to Zen Center that morning and had run into a friend who told me about the party at my friend Brian's yoga studio. (Y'all in the neighborhood should totally check it out: Vital Way Yoga. There will be a potluck/drum circle/dance party for New Year's!) It was the first party I've been to in WAY too long. The last party I went to was my friend Wen's birthday party in July and there were no guys there at all except for her boyfriend. I can't even remember the last 'party' party I went to. I was excited to get out, meet some interesting people and see my friend Brian whom I hadn't seen since my move back to Texas in February.

It was awesome. I had more stimulating conversations in those few hours than I've had in the past month. I caught up with my friends Mary and Kirsten and Brian and met some interesting people. One guy caught my eye right away. I looked twice. Could he be single?

He was friends with Brian and after introductions, I spoke to his friends for awhile but didn't talk to him until he was leaving. Then, I find out he's a musician. Just a week or so ago, I was at the Chelsea Wine Bar with my friend Queenie talking to my advisor and theory teacher, Sparky, who was playing there with his jazz band and I asked him 'Where are all the single, intelligent musicians who are concerned about the planet?' He didn't know. Well, ladies and gentleman, I realized I might have just met one. This was turning out to be the best day. He told me about his band and I told him about the kinds of songs I like to write. He asked me if I was a friend of Brian's on Facebook. I told him I was and so we said we'd check out each other's stuff online. And then he left.

We accepted each other as Facebook friends and started zipping emails back and forth. The more he told me about himself, the more excited I was. He was vegan. He was an avid cyclist and advocate who didn’t even own a car. He was leaving on a road trip the next day so he asked if I wanted to do something before he left. Hell yeah, I thought. We exchanged phone numbers and started texting as I left the house to meet my friend Darlene. He asked if I wanted to join him in feeding the homeless that night. My jaw dropped as I read the text. One of the reasons I had gone to Zen Center the previous day had been to find out if I could join in any service projects they had going on, but I had forgotten to ask. This was going to be my kind of date. I couldn’t wait!

After a bike ride along the shore, I met him at his place where he was cooking rice. As soon as I got there, I asked for pen and paper to write down some lyrics that had come to me on the drive which I then sang for him. We talked while he shelled pecans for us to snack on. Local nuts – he’s my kind of guy. We talked about food and favorite books and music and our lives. Then I drove us and the rice downtown.

He set down the rice and I met some of the other volunteers. Two men were shouting and another man told us they were high. I turned to my date and offhandedly suggested that we should chant or sing songs to ease the tension. We kept walking over to the low stone fence and set down the rice. More volunteers with Food Not Bombs (http://www.foodnotbombs.net/) showed up but we couldn’t serve yet because the person who was bringing the plates had not yet arrived. It was then that I had one of those light bulb moments. I remembered that I had brought my guitar. I had brought it thinking that I would share some of my songs with my date later. I realized that the time was now. I could perform for the crowd while we were all waiting for plates.

All thoughts of being on a date vanished. I didn’t tell him what I was going to do or even ask if it would be okay to do it. I just ran to my truck and grabbed my guitar. I walked up to the line and started singing. I started out playing the song I most recently had been working on for my guitar final, Van Morrison’s Brown Eyed Girl (my guitar teacher posted it on Youtube). I received the smiles of men and women waiting in line and returned them. Soon after I started, the plates arrived, but I just kept on singing and strumming. It felt so great.

I finished that song and was asked to play it again. I asked for the name of the requester, shook his hand and played and sang it again for my new friend James. I got a request that I didn’t know which made me think for the millionth time that I really need to learn more cover tunes. I played one of mine. I met Escobar who told me some about his life and I offered him the guitar. He played and sang a tune and it turned into a song circle. I was amongst friends. I walked around and sang while everyone ate and afterwards, the guitar was passed around and I was blessed to share that space with some awesome individuals. I lost all reference for the word ‘homeless.’ We all seemed right at home. Nothing felt lacking, nothing amiss.

At one point, I noticed that dishes were being washed. I turned to one of my new friends and said, “I should go see if I can be helpful.” I was moved when he said “You’re being helpful right here.” I’d like to think he was right.

I still sometimes doubt myself in my pursuit of music. Why would I do that when I have a perfectly good degree in my pocket and could be making decent money, doing a good thing teaching kids about the earth and have health insurance. They helped me know why. Those kind souls with nothing to give, gave me so much that night. They were the ones who came to receive food, yet I walked away feeling nourished.

Four years ago when I challenged myself on my birthday to play at an open mic at a coffeeshop in Moab, Utah and thought I was going to vomit or pee in my pants, I had no idea I would one day be able to play in front of strangers in public at the drop of a hat with the ease of putting on a pair of socks. Like it was ordinary. Without thinking twice. Without doubting myself or telling myself it was a stupid thing to do. Without thinking about what anyone would think.

As I hugged them goodbye, I felt in my place. Firmly planted. Doing what I was supposed to be doing. Dogen said ‘Find your place where you are and practice will occur.’ We were all supposed to be on that street corner. Reminding each other that strangers are only friends you haven’t met yet. Not for one minute did I pity them or feel sorry for them. That allowed me to not separate myself from them. It was like being at a dinner party.

May all my new friends downtown be warm on this Christmas Day and may their hearts and stomachs be as full as my heart was on that downtown street corner sharing words and music and presence under a sliver of moon. Sometimes a sliver is all you need.

Music 101... OR... Am I still in Texas?

Here's my homework assignment for Music Literature:  

 

Find a statement on music by a philosopher (or a philosophical statement by a musician about music), and share it with the class. Try to use a reliable source, remember that Wikipedia and other websites often contain mistakes and misattributions. Quote the statement, list who said it, and then respond to it. Do you agree or disagree? Or does it make utterly no sense to you?

“I've never known a musician who regretted being one. Whatever deceptions life may have in store for you, music itself is not going to let you down.” Virgil Thompson (1896 - 1989) American Composer & Music Critic

This quote really resonates with me. I have only recently 'owned' being a musician. I had very concrete ideas of what a musician was and since I had no formal training, didn't read music, didn't write music, couldn't play songs on the guitar by ear and didn't 'jam', I concluded I couldn't possibly be one. And yet I loved to sing. Sang in church as a kid in the choir with my grandmother on visits, sang in the hallways of Weis Middle School in Galveston, in the shower and in choir. When I got to high school, the counselors advised me to drop choir so that I could fit in another computer class. And so it went. 

I studied science in college. While there, I tried to join the choir and was told I couldn't because I didn't read music. On Friday nights, I'd gather with friends from the environmental group I was in. We'd cook a vegetarian meal and then sing songs while some played the guitar.  I ran out of money, dropped out of school, went home, got a job and bought a guitar on layaway.  I also bought some songbooks (Indigo Girls, Eagles, John Denver, Traci Chapman, the Police and the Beatles). When the guitar was paid off, it was sent to me in Yellowstone National Park where I was working for the summer.  I sat by the Firehole River and learned to play some songs on the guitar so I could back myself up singing.  After that and other adventures (long story), I went back to school.  One of the highlights was working at a restaurant and bar across from campus and singing kareoke on thursday nights when it was dead.  That was also where I met my  ex-husband to be.  I finally graduated on the 7 1/2 year plan (Gig 'em Aggies!  Whoop!).    

I got married, became a science and math teacher and my guitar began to gather dust. Long story short, I burnt out of teaching, my marriage fell apart and I ended up in the desert keeping myself busier than busy so I wouldn't feel a thing. When that stopped working, I sat in the silence, started to feel and dusted off my guitar. I wrote my first song - I had to - and started to perform. I always thought I'd go back to grad school and study science, do research, and teach. Interestingly, instead, after some very windy roads, I find myself here (at College of the Mainland in the petrochemical mecca of Texas City) studying music without really a clue as to where I'm headed. I've just noticed that when I am writing a new song, time stops, all doubts drop away and I know I am exactly where I am supposed to be doing what I am supposed to be doing. No regrets. 

(The concluding thoughts might be best expressed in a song - see my newest one, Here and Now, above.)

Kervillicious

Now officially a Kervillian!!

I set off from Galveston with some local farm produce, all my camping supplies and a stomach full of butterflies.  Kerrville Folk Festival or Bust!!  I didn't know quite what to expect.  I had found out about the festival from some people I met at a party in Austin on my way back to Texas from Portland, Oregon back in February.  I had shared some songs at the party and was encouraged to go to the festival.  I was also encouraged to move to Austin which I still may do at some point.  I've only started writing songs since the Divorce and I only learned guitar because I love to sing and was worried I wouldn't fit in, that everyone would be so much better than me, that someone would yell out 'You Suck!', etc. etc.  You know how the mind can start running like a freight train.  

I had a little freak-out at Rockin' Robin Guitars in Houston the day before.  I was painfully aware of my limitations on guitar and was looking for a book or something - like I could take a quick crash course in music theory the night before.  It was raining like a banshee and there I was, dripping, looking like a lost, wet rat in front of the sheet music and books.  I felt so helpless and frustrated and all I kept hearing in my head was a little girl's voice, repeating, 'I just want to sing.  I just want to sing.'  I started crying and the poor guys at the shop didn't know what to do.  One guy kept doing drivebys, seeing if he could help.  He even showed me how to do some scales and I just kept looking through book after book, not really understanding, feeling overwhelmed.  At one point, he came over and just gave me a hug.  I walked out with a pack of picks and some blank manuscript paper for writing songs.  

I swallowed a big 'ol lump of fear and packed up my truck.  When I arrived at the festival, the volunteer who greeted me took one look at me and said, 'You're glad to finally be here, aren't you?'  I don't know what kind of look I had on my face, but I was indeed, glad to have gotten myself there, come what may.  And the adventure began.

I wasn't in the same space as many of the folks there, some coming back year after year.  I wasn't there to party.  I was there to take my stand as a musician, to start where I was, to face my fears and to get some help.  Some motivation, some guidance.  I got all that and more.

The first day of songwriting school, Rick, the director, began talking about the muse, about creativity.  I started crying almost immediately.  

"(Clap!)  From this moment on, you are a successful songwriter.  Put all the angst in a box with the doubt, etc., tie it up with a bow and place it in the garden of life.  When they 'escape', or arise again, give them a little time and then put them back in the box,  retie the bow and place them gently back in the garden.  As you walk away, whisper to them 'Love ya.'

It was exactly what I needed to hear.  I thought it would be all about theory and song structure and technical details.  There was a group of instructors and they all added their expertise and experience.  I was so disarmed.  My heart felt so full.  I had never been so respected or supported in my creativity.  Never was I made to feel less than the others and everyone was so encouraging - so real - so giving.  I didn't understand when we did get to the music theory part (Thanks, Dr. Dick) - I felt like I was back in Oaxaca, Mexico, only understanding every third word or so - and I trusted that the more I am immersed, the more I will learn.  And I was exactly where I needed to be. 

I was delighted to discover that one of the instructors, Billy Jonas (www.billyjonas.com), has in the past taught with the instructor I did a singing workshop with at Esalen Institute over the new year, Claude Stein.  Billy is a bit unconventional and his session was about cultivating our creativity, grounding ourselves on a daily basis in our bodies to support us as we delve into the vulnerable places that great songs come from.  Cliff Eberhart was an inspiring critic - I was amazed to see how he would listen to a participant's song - not the lyrics, but the music - and suggest a chord change or a transition and how it would energize a song, bring it out into relief. Rick was a lyricist and in addition to the opening encouragement and activities for bringing forth our creativity (no such thing as writer's block - see earlier post - Grandfather Tree), he shared some valuable information on song structure and rhyming schemes and told me I had some natural talent with words.  Everyone shared what they knew best in such a down-to-earth collegial way that I was continually moved.  I was beginning to understand why those at the gate greeted everyone with the phrase 'Welcome Home!' 

A huge THANK YOU to the volunteers, instructors and participants of the 2009 Songwriting School.  May we all keep 'saving the world, one song at a time'.

Me and Freebo, one of the instructors - a renowned bass player turned singer-songwriter who highly recommended The Artist's Way.  His music is truly inspiring.

www.freebo.com

Group 1:  Tad, Courtney, Instructor Rick, Lloyd, a guy who came just that one day to audit, and Farrel.

Lewis Childs from Portland, OR

www.LewisChilds.com

We were so stoked after the first day of songwriting school that a few of us kept talking after class seeking refuge in some shade.  Four of us; me, Lewis, Jason and David; took turns sharing songs - we had all been in different groups.  It was one of the highlights for me.  Some of the song circles were really intimidating. Even though I was definitely the least skilled of the bunch (Lewis was amazing), it felt safe for me and the guys were so incredibly nice, appreciating and giving me advice about my songs.  It was so affirming - I tear up thinking about it now - I sometimes still have trouble calling myself a musician!  I grew up thinking I was the serious, nerdy one - definitely not the hip artist type. 

'The Brothers', as Lewis nicknamed Jason and David, playing after school on the last day.  They used to play together in college and met up at the fest as a kind of batchelor party - Jason is getting married in July!!!  Congrats!!

OOooeeeee!  That storm was a doozie!!!  

The canopy never recovered even after lots of duct tape and love.

Some new fans.  They videoed me playing Food on My Plate to use with a kids program.  I thank truck drivers in one verse and he's a truck driver!!!!!

Me and Tyler Jordan, tenting right next door.  

We shared songs at a fire the first night.  He lives in Austin. 

Me and Meredith, one of Tyler's friends.

Me and Alisha, also camped next door with Tyler and friends.  Her hubby drew the South Austin Music mural in Austin.  It's rad and has one of my song school instructors on it.

She's super nice and has a gift shop in Waco.

The Ballad Tree on Chapel Hill

Yours truly at Ballad Tree wearing my 'Born Free' t-shirt

I sang my love song called We Tried, (it's posted about my Utah ex, Ed) one of my ones I have been frustrated with b/c the chorus and verse have the same melody.  Afterwards, David helped me come up with a new melody which meant the rhyming scheme didn't work anymore so I had to change the words.  It is now much much shorter with a totally different chorus and a different tentative title:  Sometimes You Just Have to Walk Away.  It doesn't even have the words 'we tried' anymore, but I may put them back in bridge form or something.  I'm still working on it.  I am also using a capo on the second fret which is helpful for my natural vocal range.  I've had a capo for awhile but never used for anything except for playing one Indigo Girls song that called for a capo.  I didn't really understand it's usefulness.

Jason singing a song about Texas he wrote before ever coming here.  Has a line about a salamander which he changed to have it jumping out of his suitcase which actually happened at a hotel in Kerrville last week.  Some hypothesize it was actually a lizard.

Me, Katie, Tad, Jason and David in the dancing corner by the Main Stage. 

Terri Hendrix and Lloyd Mains 

(two of the instructors at the SongWriting School) 

performing at a Children's Concert

Me and Terri after the show.  She loves to hang out and talk to fans after the shows.  

Katie and I hung out after many of our songwriting cohorts split and decided to write a song together, a song of imprisonment and liberation.  We brainstormed some images and lyrics and I wrote the music for the verse and chorus.  Unfortunately, then she had to go back to Austin.  I went down to the Medina River the next day for a few  hours and fleshed out the rest of the song.  Then I shared it at Steve Gillete's critic circle where the chorus got a thumbs up, but, as usual for me, it was too long.  

I sang it for Tad (www.TadDreis.com) later and he very generously helped me with the song structure.  We cut out two of the verses and he helped me ( drum roll please) ... write my first ever bridge.  I didn't really get how those worked or how you went about writing one.  He actually wrote the music for it and came up with the final words after a discussion of how to make it the liberation piece.  It uses minor chords for a different feel and I really dig it.  He helped me with the teeny intro and the extended prechorus at the end and throwing in an Em in the chorus for the last time around.  It was awesome to leave Kerrville with a new song, one much more musically interesting than most of my others.  It's called Suit of Armor.  It will be a song on the future album:  Shy Girl Blues.  Maybe.  Anyway, it was way cool to collaborate with other musicians.   I was skeptical at first that the story would get lost cutting out so much, but it really seems to work.  Better.  I am now ready to take all my other songs to the chopping block!!!!

Johann Wagner serenades the crowd.  Check him out at jwagnermusic.com

One of the cool hotspots was across from the Kerrtree store at Staff Kerrecords where volunteer staff members played their original tunes and sold their CDs.  Lots of groovy tunes.

Ellie and I at Guitar 101 under the Council Tree

Charlie, Jerry, the instructor, and Anne

Guitar 101.  Dogen (Founder of Zen Buddhism)  said 'Start where you are and practice will occur.'  So I took advantage of the free guitar lessons offered by Jerry who happens to live in Clear Lake, not far from me which means I can continue learning chord progressions, bar chords, arpeggios, and (drum roll please) ... to read music.  I've been wanting to do that for a long time.  By the time I left we were using the first three frets of the first three strings to play Aura Lee and Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.  Humble beginnings.....

  

Driving back to Galveston as the sun rises, a song arose as it often does as I drive distances and the chorus so far goes like this (thanks Hat Guy for the inspiration):

Cheeri, Cheerio

He gave me a hug and called me Cheerio.

I knew he'd been down the same road.

Cheeri, Cheerio

He gave me a hug and called me Cheerio.

I knew I'd found a kindred soul.

The whole thing was kind of like that.  So much support, respect, collaboration, and creativity from so many kindred souls expressing themselves courageously, sharing themselves generously.  Saving the world one song at a time.  

Grandfather Oak

Copyright (c) 2009 Linda Daline Limbaugh 

I see you.

Do you see me?

What have you seen?  What have you experienced?  What wisdom have you garnered over the years?  How many years does it take?  Will you be my friend?  Can I hold your branch?  Will you give me refuge?  Can I just climb like I did as a child - a free, open, awe-inspired, curious child investigator.  Can I give you all my conclusions?  I don't want them anymore.

Can you teach me how to sway and bend without breaking?  How to be graceful:  intricate leaf arrangements, delicate patterns, yet trunk strong as  steel.  Where do you place your roots?  How did you know where to put them?  How did you get what you needed?  How many others like me have you comforted?

Heat rises from the ground and you don't hold on.  Wind moves and you don't try to catch it. Rain falls and it quenches your thirst - you don't drown.

(ten minute timed writing assignment at Kerrville Folk Festival Songwriting School 2009)