Update, first of May.
It’s a Jamie Lidell kind of day, with the heat hanging heavy and the sun unsure of itself even on this pristine May afternoon. I’ve been stuck in here with a warm mug of green tea, erasing the pencil marking from my Godspell book, which is sad (but shhh…I got a photocopy), but somehow satisfying. A chance to remember some sweet times, while avoiding all the work I have to do. Win.
Convocation last week marked my class’ initiation into junior-hood (now a word), and the unofficial end of our sophomore year. I hate endings, mostly because I never feel like I’ve accomplished anything in the time given, or spent enough time with the people I’m leaving behind. This infallibly happens to me every year, even though I know the first sentiment isn’t true, and the second would be the case no matter what I had chosen to do differently. Still, I can’t help it. The older I get, the more I hate change…and I’m twenty. When I’m sixty I’ll still probably be scouting the streets in my old Toyota while everyone else is teleporting. I’ll be listening to oldies like Lady Gaga on my first-generation iPod nano, and using slang from the earlier part of the 21st century. I’ll be thoroughly uncool. And I’ll still miss my friends.
Speaking of being behind the times: even though you can now probably get them on your phone, over the internet, in a podcast, etc., last semester I went ahead and bought one of those old school metronomes, the ones with only two settings…you know, on and off (I felt like I could handle that much). The little guy spent most of the year hiding in my closet, until I brought him out before the show and properly subjected him to all the cruelty and torture metronomes go through while you rehearse your part. So in the days following Godspell, after he had been twice misplaced, nearly confiscated by two airport officials for posing a potential threat to passengers, covered in coffee, almost run through a wash cycle (don’t ask), and suspended in peril of his little mechanical life while I threatened to throw him at the closest wall if he didn’t stop being right, I decided he deserved a name–so I called him Morpheus. Because he is a Matrix brand metronome. Yes I know, the creativity here is astounding. Still, it is thanks to dear Morpheus that I’ve discovered my closet appreciation of metronomes. I find them comforting. I do! I used to hate playing with one, when I was younger and preferred my interpretive tempos to the written ones. Nowadays what motivates me is the idea that no matter how difficult something appears to be, I can always slow it down until it is manageable, until everything works perfectly and seems easy. Makes one wish this worked for other things in life, too–like finding a job or paying your bills or falling in love. I mean, if you could just try all the tricky stuff slowly at first, and then work it up to speed as you go, growing up wouldn’t be so hard. But life does not come with rehearsal time. Rather, life is like a piece of music you are singing for the first time, and the best thing you can do is sight read your way through it, and hope to get at least part of it right.
I was perusing the PTO website the other day looking for Alan’s contact information for voice lessons this summer, and I came upon an article by his wife, Kathryn Cathcart (a wonderful lady), called “Multiplication by Zero“. In it, she talks about how in order to be successful in a career (she uses opera as an example, although she does mention this applies to pretty much any profession), what one needs is not one ability but rather a combination of skills and strengths, as well as personal qualities, which make one shine at something. Many qualities can be acquired with the right attitude; however, some can’t. Ms. Cathcart brings up the example of Mario Lanza, who despite being very talented couldn’t teach himself to learn music except by ear. He later went on to become a famous screen actor.”Obviously he was a success,” Ms. Cathcart asserts, “but he had to find the niche that was appropriate for his individual talent. We can all profit from this example.” Interesting.
The way I think about it, our talents are like keys. Our ability to open certain doors depends on a particular combination of factors peculiar to that lock, and not everyone is crafted with the same design in mind. So, pretend that to get through the red door you need a small red key with five ridges, and you say, “but mine has only four ridges, and it’s yellow!” Well, honey, that red door ain’t gonna budge. But somewhere out there is another door and another lock just waiting to click softly open, and behind it is a room that’s been waiting for you all along. It may be bigger than the first room. It may not. But it will be yours.
My house key is leopard-print. Clearly, my future holds class.
After two years at Vassar, perhaps the most important thing I’ve learned is that even when it feels like life’s just sending me door to door, I have got to keep on trying to open each and every one. In the end it’s the tangible things, like a penciled-in part book, a program signed by Dawn Upshaw (!!), a new song that keep me feeling like I’ve been somewhere. Terry and I recorded a BEAUTIFUL version of Snowbird last Wednesday, with my good friend David playing cello and me borrowing a gorgeous, sweet-sounding classical guitar for the takes. I’ll be in the studio editing like mad for the next week or so, but it’ll be worth it. Oh hell, it’ll be therapeutic. Editing is a wonderful outlet for us obsessive types. It’s like a beautiful island of joy and sunshine and the blissful knowledge that you have full control of EVERYTHING. Serious win.
The end of the semester has been like a big thundercloud looming over the end of spring, and now that I’ve turned another page in my calendar, it’s looking especially threatening. I’ve got performances tonight and Sunday. First part of my theory final next Tuesday morning. Portfolio for my writing class due that night. Two-track demo by next Thursday. Studio recital next Friday. Second part of theory final, corrections & our last assignment due that day. My project for my Jewish Studies course due sometime after that. Throw in a guitar recital and an audition somewhere in there, and the fact that I need to find a job for the summer back home. Eeeek! Oh, and two tests for musicianship next week, which I need to somehow magically do really really really well on.
Sometimes I’m amazed that I can ever write music considering how much work I have to do just to get by in that class. Or, come to think of it, to get by in life in general. But it’s gonna happen. Hey, I’ll at least go under with a smile. And I’m okay with that.
Love,
N
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