Opinions

“Everyone is capable of having an opinion. Opinions are also infinitely reproducible – and that tends to be precisely what makes most of them valueless.”

Finally Figuring Some Things Out

Okay, so I’m new at the whole ‘writing-cohesive-pieces’ sort of thing.

I’m a jazz trained pianist, and I’ve been doing quite a lot of classical work in the last two years. This means my primary music education involves strictly technical work sitting at the piano. The most involved I got with the technology side of things was recording a couple times in my friend’s basement, using his recording equipment. This was back in 2002, and we used a Fostex tape deck. Joy.

I own four keyboards, including a Wurlitzer electric piano from the 1960’s and a Roland synth from the mid 1980’s. That’s about it though. I own no software, nor do I currently even own a computer that may run that kind of software.

I’m the nerd among the other nerds that just played lots of scales and actually did what the teacher asked. In high school, rather than occupying my time trying to imagine what “blowjob parties” would be like, I spent that time trying to figure out why a major 6th chord voiced a certain way sounded so powerful. Not to say I didn’t love blowjobs, but I’d rather miss out now and end up getting more of them while on tour doing something awesome – like playing the major 6th chords.

In a jazz setting, people get together and literally improvise over the chord structures of a tune. There is a culture, a mentality, and a set of particular methods of practicing that accompany this. I was exposed to this in high school and much more during college. As happens a lot in college, your tastes and assumptions about the world and yourself change pretty frequently. For whatever reason, they weren’t headed in the same direction as the jazz-heads, so rather than try to assimilate, I made the decision to try something different. I had no real impetus for making the decision, except that I noticed myself becoming far more frustrated than I usually did every time I left a jam session.

“We get in the room, and play a few tunes, jerk off over them, and occasionally they go somewhere. We stop, congratulate ourselves. and leave the room with nothing for posterity.”

I just got kind of tired of it. There had to be more options available musically that I could fall into and love.

After trying a bunch of other failed ideas, I came to the conclusion that maybe there wasn’t any “scene” or whatever that could make me happy enough to feel good about myself. Maybe I had to invent one.

Great. That sounds naively romantic and legendary, and like a completely fucking endless amount of work. Inventing a scene. Or genre. Or whatever.

It could SUCK for all I know, and from what I’ve produced already, it is just barely escaping the void of suck. But I don’t care. I love doing it. And I love thinking about it and thinking about getting better about it. And I love the feeling that one day I’ll be good and free enough to do precisely the things I want to do. Its just some work I have to take care of in the meantime.

Government Funding for Artists is Idiotic and Irresponsible – Part 1

I keep reading about how the federal government wants to slash funds for arts and entertainment in the USA, and how horrible this is, and how insensitive and stupid this is, and how important the arts are to society, etc. etc.

Am I the only one that thinks this is actually a good fucking idea?

“But you’re an artist Brett, and one who makes very little money, at that. How can you say this with a conscience??!!!

Let’s say I produce some awesome art in the next decade. That’s a decade of hard-earned work at something questionably remunerative at best, and financially crippling at worst. Let’s say that my “reward,” that being a given number of fans or other artists willing to pay me for the product of my output, is something like $500,000 per year.

I’m going to be taxed on that money, to fund other artists who MAY OR MAY NOT produce artistic works that are valuable enough for the public to want to pay for on their own. The art produced by these subsidized artists could turn out to be shit. It may turn out to be great too, but then if its that good why do we need a government to get involved?

“WHO CARES, ART IS BEAUTIFUL AND BLAH BLA…!!!???” – say politicians that are more interested in getting elected and looking benevolent than actually doing anything worthwhile.

Why is it the government’s job to hand out money to artists? Why is it MY job once I have money, to hand the government money to then filter through an inefficient and ridiculous bureaucracy, to then hand it over to artists that might end up producing shit that people might not find valuable enough to pay for on their own?

Beyond all that, who CARES IF YOU SUCCEED AT YOUR ART? In reality, no one. Its a creative and spiritual pursuit that’s been around since humans lived in trees. Before we got “funding,” and all sorts of other bullshit. So why do we build up government infrastructure in this stupidly vain attempt to put a price on the “priceless?” If it can’t succeed on its own merits, then why the fuck should everyone be forced to pay for it anyway?

On the contrary, what if I make art that doesn’t sell? Well, presumably the reason it didn’t sell was because it a) sucked and therefore didn’t deserve to be financially rewarded (sort of similar to say, um, a badly run business) or b) nobody knew about it/marketing efforts failed/the Republicans didn’t help (sort of similar to the qualities of, um, a badly run business). Why are the arts treated differently than a fucking business in this context?

I know, I know. “HOW DARE YOU COMPARE SOMETHING AS INVALUABLE AS ART TO A BUSINESS ENTERPRISE. ART IS PRICELESS AND UPLIFTING AND ESSENTIAL TO A FUNCTIONING SOCIETY…”

No, its not. Its sexy and cool and some of the most profoundly gratifying hard work you’ll ever put into something. It IS priceless in a sense, by then why trivialize it further by giving a bunch of idiots in Congress the power to meddle with it?

Teacher Brett Pt. 1

I gave some of my first piano lessons last month to some kids on the Upper East Side. I had gotten the gig through my private teacher who mentioned that a colleague of his was leaving the country, and needed someone to take over for her teaching duties. I had figured this would be a one on one setup, I teach a couple 30 minute lessons to two young kids, and then I’d be done. These lessons turned out to be a bit different.

There are three kids, ages 9, 12, and 14. I give them each 30 minute lessons downstairs on their baby grand, and for the final 30 minutes of the two hour block of time we go upstairs to the other music room, fitted with a drumset, guitars, and a keyboard. Then we work on playing through a couple songs, with the help of two other music teachers, a guitarist and drummer.

Because young kids are, well, young, they don’t really have the capacity or desire to concentrate for more than a few seconds on anything. As far as playing piano goes, a lot of kids have the stereotype of taking lessons as something that is purely impractical, boring, and a waste of time.

What’s funny is that everyone I run in to inevitably finds out I’m a pianist, and then they start off on their own little reminiscence about their own days taking lessons, hating them, giving them up, only to now regret not having stuck with them. Kids don’t have perspective, so they go with what they know, which is not much.

When teaching people, you have to have a pretty healthy ability to empathize and think back to what it was like to not know something. Explaining ‘obvious’ knowledge a certain way, no matter how valid it may seem when articulated, doesn’t mean they’ll get it. This goes for teaching adults AND kids.

Kids don’t have much intellectual baggage to bring to the table when learning new things, so they are rather open-minded and willing to run blind with a given concept without getting defensive or questioning the method you’re showing them. You will often do better showing them something, rather than explaining a concept and hoping they’ll implement it on their own. By showing them, with some smart but brief explanation, they can grasp the internal logic of the exercise, at which point you can choose whether or not to elaborate. Take a scale, for example – for a 9 year old with no prior knowledge of what a scale is, I wouldn’t bother explaining much beyond:

“This is what a scale looks and sounds like.” (play a C major scale slowly)

“A scale can start on different notes, but do you hear how it sort of sounds the same?” (play a Db Major scale or any other scale, pointing out the similarities in sound)

The point of this is to establish some basic sense of internal logic within the concept, so that when the kid comes across other concepts or schemas (a word I’ll discuss in another post, taken from a great book I just read) he’ll be able to apply similar principles to something already familiar.

This is all pretty damn basic stuff, but its explaining it properly that is hard. A lot of people who are brilliant at what they do suck at teaching it. Teaching people is not an easy task and it involves a very different set of skills. I was fortunate to have had (and still have) some excellent teachers pass through my life, so whatever I end up writing will be a synthesized version of their wisdom and my riding their coattails of wisdom.

I Am Depressed, therefore Full of Unique and Profound Things To Say

Sometimes I wonder why the fuck I’m doing this. I’ve heard successful entrepreneurs reminisce about their times in the beginnings of their ventures – and they typically say something like “If I knew how hard it would end up being before I started, I wouldn’t have started.” Doing as much personally meaningful stuff when I’m young and helplessly ignorant is probably the best the to be doing. That being said, it is frighteningly easy to fall back into the comfortable verbal pat-on-the-backs of good friends and family who support you.

“Everything will be okay, you’ll make it. You’re talented, so you’ll make it.”

The reality is, none of it means anything. I literally doesn’t mean anything – and you have to know that, down to your core, that those words of encouragement, while nice and uplifting, don’t really mean anything. At that point you can decide whether or not to move forward, because if its vague words of encouragement from external personalities and motivations mostly influencing your own drive and fervor to accomplish stuff, then you’re probably fucked.

You can’t fall back on the sympathetic promises of other people, because they aren’t you and definitively do not share your motivations. They don’t care, nor should they necessarily care. They aren’t you.

The only thing left is to take complete personal responsibility for what you want to do. If you’re going to feel truly liberated as a human being then this is essential. You have to take responsibility for who you are, what you are at least attempting to do, and see it through to the end. No bullshit. No “Well, if I had these things, then I could move forward…”

No. That’s horseshit. Either move forward or don’t, and take responsibility for whichever you choose. Its a visceral and unpleasant feeling, but the deeper you explore this the less you want to head back into what you were before.

And its a process. I’m starting to get that making art is not a glamorous or romantic sort of thing. All the audience tends to see is the product, and well, yeah, there is glamor there when it works. But the process of getting good at making it? Making GOOD art? Its a pain in the ass, frankly.

Don’t get me wrong, its a profoundly uplifting process, and there is nothing sweeter than the feeling of having worked on something and being able to contribute it, no matter how shitty – but it also sucks a lot of balls and brings out the most exquisite feelings of worthlessness you’ll ever encounter. Cheers.

Brett