Chaos Thy Space

Define the space;

organize the space;

protect the space;

hold the space. -RF

Space is the place. -Unidentified stoner.

If Fripp could see the average Velvet setup, he would hold that chaos only breeds chaos. He would be so right, but how do you get eight guys on a small stage not to feel like they are on an NY subway at rush hour?

Defining and organizing the space is crucial. One bitch about being in a band is when you set up all your stuff, and then you are told to move. I swear to you that in one band in particular, no matter where I set up, it was the band leader's hidden sadistic intention to always wait until I had everything up and running, then to tell me to move it all. Near the end of my rope and just about the time I was getting ready to drop out of the scene, one request was met with a few sarcastic remarks. I think he was very surprised to hear me verbalize my anger as he seemed a bit shocked. But, to be honest, he had to know of his intention and frankly I was sick of it. I had done this cheerfully for years before I had caught on to the little power games that musicians play.

Protect Thy Axe. At the V-gig, I tried to sit quietly and warm up. Some kid with blond hair instantly started asking me about my guitar, do I play any Carlos Barbosa-Lima and could he play it? For fuck's sake, this was my time. While normally, I politely decline loaning my instrument to anyone whom I do not know, not to be a dick, I let him play. He went through the usual variety of start-stop, half classicalish, half jazzish fragments while repeatedly telling me that finger style was not his thing. After this diversion, I asked for my guitar back and just when hands were being warmed up, it was show time. There went crucial time spent getting nerves under control.

True story: I was standing outside talking to a student right after a lesson. This older looking student came over and started talking to us and the conversation got around to guitars.

"Do you mind if I look at your guitar?"

"Yes. In fact, I have to get going."

"But it's only going to take a minute. What kind is it?"

I was in no mood to see yet again someone take my beloved guitar into their untrustworthy hands. I wince at the thought.

Finally he kept pushing me and pushing me:"Sir, by the time we have spent talking about this, you could have shown me." Pushy bastard.

Don't push me. Ever. I dig my heels into the earth so deep you won't get them to move. "Listen, I choose who I let see my guitar, you don't decide that for me, ok?" I am sure my face and eyes were sending daggers at that point because even my student clammed up and a most pregnant silence remained.

honour necessity;

honour sufficiency.

I don't know how all these Fripp entries affect you, oh gentle readers, but they have a profound effect on me sometimes. Last night was a good example. The Bistro gig is a three hour guitar marathon with master Kennedy. It was superb last night on all levels. I would say that the first two hours were magical. The third hour, I could feel a little wear and tear. Fatigue is inevitable and the resultant lack of focus, but still, it is a joy to play with someone so good. We communicate almost telepathically. It is really freaky when it all comes together.

These Fripp words of necessity and sufficiency were full in my mind as we played. Don't overplay-keep it simple. What is necessary? Only do that. Or in common parlance: lay back and keep a simple groove.

Come to relaxation.

This is of great value for a player like me who must go through a time of settling before the quality of playing becomes reasonable. Relaxing is a conscious action. Letting go can only happen when we are aware that we are not. Kind of a pickle, ain't it? Last night, I ran those words through my mind and found areas of the right shoulder and arm being tense. It is so easy and unnoticeable for tension to come into our bodies.

Attracted attention - energy is sucked out of us; eg at newstands.

Hostility and ill-will: an inevitable consequence of public life.

Hostility and ill-will are a part of being in public. The Bistro is not a place where I have found either. Certainly in bars, there is always the drunken moron who tries to challenge or belittle the band while setting up: "I still ain't heard a goddam note yet!" Or the classic: Do ya'll play any Skeenerd?" Then shock and disbelief that this is not part of the set list for the evening. Usually these clowns are so juiced that they call it an early night well before the band plays.

Certainly the radio work has been a source of this. People have many reasons for being hostile assholes, but none of them matter. This is not personal, radio is just a service-entertainment for the masses. We have one flaming asshole who relentlessly criticizes my work and sends his bitter, caustic emails, which border on personal attacks, every six weeks or less. I cannot imagine how horrible it must be to be him. He is a toad. A snipey little toad. He seeks my attention like a child.

Attracted attention - energy is sucked out of us. People like that have no more purpose in life than to make everyone as miserable as they. I have no energy for it. I have made my peace with it and have moved on.

Cultivate goodwill. Plainly put, you have to. The mind goes places that the body never wishes to go. Attention must be fluid, but focused and not drifting (the monkey mind), but of all these, one's emotional center must be concerned with: people are not out to get you. Though this may sound corny, a great man stated it and it is one of the wisest ever written:

Love bears all things.

At the center, must be love. This will bring us through.

Even though the drunken buttheads, the nasty emails and the constant shadow of doubt.

So, thanks again, Bobby from Dorset.

Be Thy Own Velvet

There's been much activity in Velvet Land oh my brothers and sisters, so let's straight to a quick synopsis. Hoorah.

Velvet Reunion no. 4 went well musically considering Live Mix studio was an oven. I bet temps reached over 100, if not the high 90's. It was a sweat fest. Personally, I have come to this old familiar music with a new joy and sense of purpose. We were crammed in like dripping clams, but I surrendered myself to the music. You have to or otherwise, why do it at all?

It's a strange gig. People actually just watch and listen. I'm not used to that. You'd figure we would be happy for such an attentive audience, but Velvets are used to entertaining in shall we say, a much more relaxed environment such as a drunk-ass crowd in a bar or private party.

From a playing perspective, my chops weren't as high as they could have been. I just couldn't get my right hand to relax at first. I usually have lots of adrenaline surging through me during the first three to four songs and it never quite settled down. In truth, more regular practice is the solution. With work and all the little errands of the evening, practice is tough to squeeze in.

I am impervious to worrying about band politics. Little petty things have started to arise, and I have not taken any of them seriously. I am here for music, not politics. The general mood is one of cooperation and goodwill. So far, so good.

From an entertainment perspective, the old Johnny Velvet (my alter ego) was brought out. It was fun and the crowd seemed to enjoy the stupid cheesy songs and the hamming it up on the sweat stage. I am doing Johnny sometimes and I don't even know it.

Of course, Mr. Craig brought his fine, fine rums. Oh that life should be so sweet all the time.

Played with Mr. Super Fingers on Wednesday. For a while, I didn't get a call to play with Ryan at the Bistro for a while. After a time, you begin to wonder. Was it something I did??? When you play, you bond on a personal level because of the intimate nature of music making. But since I have returned to the front lines after a very long and deserved break, my attitude has been very pragmatic and wholly better. We musicians are all on each other's lists. Players always going to get shuffled around. It's nothing personal, just the way it is. So if I hear about a band that was put together for a wedding and I wasn't invited to play, I don't get upset anymore.

"It's just the nature of da business we're in." Come and go. One slot filled, another empty.

Playing music in a upscale restaurant/bar is another animal altogether. Some listen, most don't. There might be polite applause or even enthusiastic recognition. You never know. Ryan has developed a following there because it is his gig; he is the weekly host. And because he is so incredibly gifted. Last week, we were invited to sit at some upscale patrons and my how they flutter about him.

It is both intense and fun. This is not an auto-pilot gig at all. You must bring your A game with Mr. Fleet O'Finger, oh yes. No coffee-to-stay-awake snooze fest. Although he is very accommodating to all requests and owner/patron satisfaction is number one, our set list has some odd ones. Curiously, we play The Sheltering Sky by King Crimson (and Frame By Frame) and it has received positive attention. I would have never figured that in a million years. I am always happy when he calls those tunes, but sort of wait for the ceiling to drop.

Multi-Sweat Fest. We were treated to a one a hour and forty-five minute sound fiasco before our short 32 minute set. Tired, overheated, annoyed, but we carried on like pros. Perhaps it was poetic justice that the newspaper carried a photo of the event and even noted the horrendo sound problems. The dudes were fucking up big time. I felt sorry for the audience. I can handle a crappy mix, but hope that a decent one is being sent to innocent listeners. A tape of the mix proved to be as horrible as we thought. And then some. Great debut. Thanks, professional sound guys.

There was a bit of grumbling behind the scenes as I think a few players were a bit confused as to the direction of the music. Are we jazz? Thought we were a jazz group? In the end, the joy of music making smoothed all the rough edges. This was not the Johnny Velvet show. Nay. This was a bold experiment by the band leader. I have to give him credit for having the vision to put this together. He also could have pitched a bitch fit at the sound guys, but he remained professional.

One aside. Your indulgence please.

"Are you in a band?" came the question from the girl at Blockbuster. I have to admit I hadn't heard that one in nearly two decades.

"Yes. Sort of." As a rule, I avoid long answers. That one would take hours.

"I think I saw you on TV." Ah, TV, the magic bullet. No matter what it is, if you are on TV, you become someone. I find it bizarre, but think it true.

"I saw you and I said I totally know that guy."

Yep. I am totally that guy.

Whatever the hell that means.

Part-Time Disorientation

Am I being difficult? Most likely. Is it born from years of feeling unappreciated? Yes. Should I have left? This was a choice, but there has always been a scarcity of teaching positions. I may have left, not finding the position suitable to my perceived qualifications, but then no extra cash. There's the hard line.

A memo for a mandatory part-timers meeting has come from on high.

Mandatory? Really? Should I inform that I have been on the staff since 1987 and have seen presidents, provosts, administrators, teachers and many others come and go? Should I say that I have given the university untold hours of free PR for sixteen years by taking the guitar group into schools, coffee houses and concerts? That I have taught hundreds of kids and college students with nary a whisper of notice or (cough cough)praise from any adminstatione? Do these people even know anything?

Nope. Calm down, old boy. It's just an email. File this as another one under D for Disappointment.

Part=Time Faculty Orientation Required by Provost

Meeting will be held at two different times:

Wednesday, at a time when you work.

Wednesday, later, when you'd rather say you're doing something else.

You may groan and begrudgingly come to either session; both will be held in the Frankenstein Art Gallery. Please respond to Provost, noting which session you will attend. Or which you plan to blow off.

Mind numbing and trivial topics included:
· Provost-required syllabus template

· LLOs attached to courses (as appropriate)
· Semester calendar
· Grading procedures
· Technology available
· Library services available
· Administrivia – parking passes, security, coffee, etc.

Administrivia? Seriously? We are making words up now? And how do I connect parking to security to coffee??? I am lost. LLOs? Hmm. I must get a new dictionary of academic speak. I am confused. My syllabus has been fine for twenty-two years and now I must change it?

Ok. If I have to go, I'll go. But I will be grumbling.

Dammit.

You Freaks Get On the Bus

I have noticed as of late that Fripp has been expounded more than usual about Guitar Craft attendees being a little too off kilter to participate. He politely calls them "loonies." Like the time, during a Guitar Craft course, he awoke to find a young man in his room staring at him. For some reason, Fripp attracts weirdos. The whole thing started with that freaky cover for their first album. Rumors of satanic practice and heavy LSD use abounded; all of it preposterous. But still, you kind of set yourself up with that band name, album cover, and music that's experimental. It's not like they called themselves Lovely Lads and avoided freakdom altogether.

From my own experience of a four day GC course, I cannot imagine someone with a tenuous grasp of reality being able to handle the ten day courses. I was a musician of 36 years experience with a master's degree and I found the pressure enormous. Fripp takes you through the paces of his guitar system- utterly alien with it's own tuning, method of holding a pick, and the introduction of advanced rhythmic and ensemble techniques. In short, it is sui generis.

Evidently, more loonies are taking these courses.

"it may be that there are others who aren't suitable for the OCG who attend. i intend to address this formally in the near future. the quick answer is, we don't have professionally accredited behavioural psychologists & therapists on our staff. so, our required standard of participation is normal-abnormal. "

Translation: we ain't got head shrinkers, man. We gots to screen the squirrels.

"hernan & i discussed, at the airport before i left, the problems we have with disturbed characters on courses. the amount of energy needed to contain one person, and europe has had compulsives, paranoids, manic depressives & substance abusers as regular attendees, has undermined what i see as our proper work. we accept everyone as they arrive, but the standard of acceptance is now normal-abnormal."

Line them up when they get there and put them into N and ABN groups. Tell the ABNs that they are going on a little field trip first and promptly drop them off at the airport. Politely refund their money and say, "Take care. Shine on, you crazy diamonds."

"There is drug & alcohol damage. Circuits have been fried. I don’t see this as frequently as I used to, when drug use was widespread among many of the young people who attended courses: almost as if I have a right! there are no consequences! Participants nowadays tend to be more mature, and less druggy. Possibly our clear statement on drug use is part of the falling-off of drug-using applicants."

Anyone who could go through a GC course stoned to the bone and does well, has my admiration.

"It was once, seemingly, believed that there were little or no repercussions from regular drug use. What I see, standing in the middle of the Guitar Circle, is a dis-connection between the mind & the body: they don’t quite seem to talk to each other; co-ordination is not. The body is, usually, able to move in established patterns but unable to grasp & respond to new patterns being presented. The mind holds a pattern & leads the way: the mind leads the hands. Or, as often on this course, not."

Every form of refuge has its price.

I once taught a student at the university that was clearly on something. No matter what transpired the week before, the kid came in the next week a complete blank. No matter the simplest exercise or chord, he struggled to get it. Slowly, the light would go on, but then next week, it was as if we had not had that lesson at all-a complete blank.

I eventually asked him point blank if he was using. His answer was no, but his mind was in perma-fog. Sad. He dropped out. Big surprise.

Everything I saw at the Guitar Craft session suggested to me that Fripp has control over every aspect of his life and he lives it as a meditation. His mind is keenly focused- abright, glowing thing to behold. I feel that he is intellectually vain in spades. I would lay any bet that he has never, ever taken any recreational drugs in his life.

Perhaps he should start.

In order to handle the freaks.

Set Thy Velvet To Wander

Having missed Velvet Phase V because I threw out my back, The V Bros move to our next gig at Live Mix, this Saturday, August 1st. This would be the third time the VBs have performed since May 2008. After sixteen years of absence, the guys generously responded to help celebrate my 50th birthday. That said a lot.

The Veebs are a great bunch of guys and a helluva lot to play with, but we get together only on special occasions.

Was talking to someone this afternoon about how you can lose all drive. Practicing, playing, creating-all goes by in a big lazy lump without a wisp of guilt. You lose the drive to stay on top of your game and slowly all desire to play leaves. Even lack of self-respect doesn't bother you when you reach that level of apathy. You become a fat stone. Dull, senseless.

In the 90's, I took a long break from all club work and took even paying gigs begrudgingly. I needed to heal from a lot of damage and the unhealthy lifestyle of the late nite player.

That drive is returning. I need to play.

Living the Dream

Gigs these days are mucho hard to come by. Should I dare make a few snide remarks in such an impoverished time?

Yep.

Why? Because it's so damn funny.

Plus, I don't believe the general public has any clue what the real life of working musician is like. And, if there's any way I can discourage young people from going into this as a career, then I've done something good. Before we get to the story, I'd thought we'd outline some truths, ok? O-tay.

1. Most of us have day jobs. Yes, this is true. Those who make it are a micro percentage of those who dream of the world tour, groupies and million dollar mansions. Only a select few ever get close. Even fewer last beyond one album. This day job also gives us the option to turn down ridiculous ripoff offers from club owners, bartering brides who keep upping the ante while lowering the pay or to just say no to the endless freebies that every half-assed, self-named promoter tries to pawn off as "good exposure." The day job is leverage. The best exposure is word-of-mouth.

2. We are invisible. At any social event, you can count on the musicians being even lower in status than the caterer. In fact, I would bet that once the event is over, most of the patrons would not be able to remember any music at all. Such are my own powers of invisibility that I once was accused of not being at a wedding. That is to say, a friend of the family turned the matter over to a lawyer because they were informed that in fact, there was no guitarist at said wedding and charging for such was fraudulent. Ridiculous, but true.

Yes, I am the invisible guitarist. Come see me at The Copa.

3. Money is important. We were once hired by a law firm to provide the ubiquitous background music. At first, the young girl on the phone was pleasant, taking our fee in stride and seemed to accept the terms without qualm. Then the haggling began. And continued. Finally, after she had called multiple times, I got fed up and asked her: "Mam, do you allow your clients to set your fee?" After a few stumbles, she admitted that she was just trying to impress her superiors. Nay. We are professionals in a profession where fame and wealth determine success, talent and skill, but otherwise, if possessing none of those, we are not respected by the public at large. We are ditch diggers.

The common misconception is that musicians, happy-go-lucky people with their heads in the clouds, love to play so much that they will play for free. After all, playing before an audience is its own reward, right? Wrong-o, buck-o.

Some gigs you play for money, others lean toward the elusive "art." The best is when you can combine both.

4. We know what we're doing. I have played in 40 degree weather while guests were ushered inside to warmth. I have played in burning sunshine with sweat running into my eyes making the little black ants on the page seem to swirl while guests were told to stay on the porch. I have played under a tent while a lightening storm raged. I repeated the bridal entrance song (The Taco Bell Canon) so long I thought my hand was going to fall off. I have seen guests fight off swarms of bees and other insects in a scene so surreal that I thought I was watching an old X Files episode. I have squeezed into every tight corner you could imagine, trying in vain to dodge guests and catering staff who insist on trying to knock out my partner's teeth while she plays the flute.

At the governor's mansion one fine Christmas party, I was playing while dodging like a boxer while the cattle streamed steadily by me; unable to see me because I was holding a guitar. My flutist friend was once asked to play on a hill while lightning flashed above. Lightning and a mental rod? Not wanting to be reduced to ash so early in her career, she politely declined and played inside from a safe distance. I have had people stand with their backs to me and talk about me like I was something on the stereo. I am potted plant, not an animal.

In short, all these were the result of poor planning by the no doubt hyperactive "event coordinator" named Trisha or Pam. That is why, when we arrive, we tell you where the best place to set up is because we have been doing this for decades.

There, I feel better. Let's talk about the latest adventure for the Dynamic Duo.

You would figure that since we have done this gig each year and that the fact that the venue, circumstances, expectations are virtually the same each year, that the operation would have become streamlined by now.

No. That cannot be. We are musicians. Every gig is new, but deals with the same tired old practical ties. Plus, we are invisible. I have told you that.

Every year at this gig, we are greeted with looks that immediately suggest that no one has told them anything about musicians, where do they go, what they are doing or how to get them there. I was thinking that somehow this year could be different.

Nay. Thou hopest againsth hope.

The young man behind the table was clearly trying to do his best, but he was out of his depth. He was enjoying the role of power, but was unable to discharge it effectively. I felt myself trying not to laugh as I explained who we were and why we were there. After all, it was hope against hope. I asked if a cart could be borrowed to transport our equipment. A blond, in a perfectly tailored black pants suit, paid close attention, making facial expressions of concern, consternation and confusion. She set about looking for "the blue cart." She clacked away on her shoes, returning only to tell us the mysterious blue mode of transport was nowhere to be found.

Is this a comedy?

Then, a gal appears with a dolly. She was, as LiLi describes, "struggling with her high heels." Had I noticed this, gentle readers, you would color me gay.

It is North Hall, a fairly large hall. Where to set up? Now, there is something very crucial in some gigs that determines where to set up the playing space. This is known in the trade as "The Scooby Factor." To scooby, means to leave with utmost discretion and speed. You do not want to have to break down while some suit is making their "brief remarks" and you most certainly do not want to have to sit through the speech if you are not being paid to do so.

Last year, we were stage left. LiLi, most wisely assessing the situation, realized that stage left meant no quiet scooby and its horrid implication that we would be trapped. Stage right was in the line of kitchen traffic. A huge mistake. We decided to set up close to the door. Now, I think you're getting it. Head in the clouds? Not us.

We waited as "wobbly in her high heels" girl told us to set up anywhere we liked; a fact we had already assumed. LiLi went looking for a maintenance guy and soon we had power.

We auto piloted our way through the same repertoire we've had for decades while waiting for the VIPs to arrive and be seated.

Wobbly came by and I asked, "How are we doing? It's not too loud, is it?" She had to stop and wonder what I was talking about, but the light came on and she gave an enthusiastic thumbs up. Lisa realized that I had just done this for fun and to be a devil.

After a brief brown nosing intro for the Guv, the all-too-not-brief remarks, the fumbling of index cards, a brief return to music while the entres was brought out.

Then more ceremony which was our cue to start packing up. Scooby, baby, scooby! Oh joy! Time to go home.

On the way home, Lisa stated the truth: "That gig is more about getting there, setting up than it is about actual playing."

You betcha, darling. We may not be living anyone's dream or fantasy, but we just played a paying gig for little hassle.

And that's just fine with me.

I think.

It's Just a Damn Gig

"A practical difficulty with presenting systems of explanation to the head is that, once the head knows, it believes itself to know." Fripp

Every gig is a trial. Every one a test.

Last night, packed into the tiny local restaurant, Lisa and I played for a few friends and some lonely looking customers. People are not quite sure what to do with live music in a restaurant. Hell, I'm not sure. It's background, pure and simple. No problem, but still it's nice to have some familiar faces at any gig. That always helps.

She was a bit nervous. I told her that there was no reason at all to be nervous. We have playing together for decades and that experience always comes to bear in uncertain circumstances. We were a bit more "on stage" than our usual invisibility. I think we did ok. The purpose is always to prove that you still "have it," if to no one but yourself.

After reflecting on my 38 years as a guitar player, one thing's for certain: I am far more relaxed about the proceedings. I let the music happen and try to get my head out of the way; leaving the ear and fingers to guide me. The conscious mind sometimes gets in the way, trying to direct every move, over evaluating every little flaw. Relaxation has a very profound effect on music making.

When she and I began to play in the late 80's these long and lonesome gigs out at Coonskin Park's "restaurant" many moons ago, I was just learning how to handle jazz and schmaltz. After all, I had been a classical guitar purist for about 8 years. They didn't teach me that in school, people. I can't imagine how stiff my playing was at that time playing ballads like God Bless the Child or a swinging My Favorite Things.

After I had had enough of bands and playing in clubs in the 90's, I took a sabbatical. The joy of playing had just up and left. I was sick of it all and just let it go. That happens more often that people would believe. Like anything, being a musician is full of struggles and sometimes you get fried, tired of the constant bullshit and the little voice in your head constantly whispering, "See? I told you so. You're just not any good. You know it. I know it. Quit faking like you can play." The thought of playing repulsed me.

Slowly, I have made my way back. I am well aware that all this is just local and I'm never going to grace the cover of any magazine nor win any award. Never getting past weddings, clubs or he occasional restaurant. And all that is just fine for me. I just want the respect of my peers and an audience that won't throw tomatoes at me.

Some groupies would help as well. I mean, shit.

"Pale In" Comparison

I do not think myself a wordsmith. This article has now confirmed my suspicions.

Vanity Fair has a rather provocative and educational article about how VF editor's would have corrected Sarah Palin's loopy resignation speech. Regardless of your political bent, you have to admit how amatuerish nature of the original and how these editor's could have whipped it into coherant shape.

http://www.vanityfair.com/politics/features/2009/07/palin-speech-edit-200907

Blow Thy Hole

I always knew that classical music snobs held certain attitudes. It is a rare treat to see someone write something so openly snobbish for all to see. Let's have some fun, shall we? My humble comments in Bold.

Financial Times FT.com
Is classical music trying to be fashionable?

By Andrew Clark
Published: May 29 2009 16:22 Last updated: June 4 2009 07:38

There is a lot of noise in classical music today. It’s not the noise we associate with the louder forms of pop and rock. Nor is it the noise of percussive or electronic effects that have become a significant part of the classical composer’s armoury over the past 50 years.

There's a dig if ever I've read one. I smell jackass already. I would suggest that most orchestras don't program the old school '60s idea of orchestra with tape anymore than they program much music beyond Late Romanticism. So, pop and rock are noise? I get it. Keep going, chumly, I am getting excited here.

It’s a different kind of noise – call it “noises off” – that, in the eyes and ears of hard-core classical aficionados, is threatening to drown the music. It’s the sound of classical music trying to be fashionable, relevant to the internet generation.

I know where this is going. And another dig. The internet generation? Isn't that everyone? Isn't that like saying the "automobile generation"? He's also suggesting that this is dumbing down to pander to those damn kids.

The latest example is the YouTube Orchestra, which was auditioned and selected on the web. It made its debut last month at Carnegie Hall in New York, one of the world’s most prestigious venues, after a mere two days’ rehearsal. No one in classical music dared say this was a scratch orchestra breaking a cardinal rule of the art form: the centuries-old practice of patiently creating a style and blending disparate voices, essential for the high-quality rendition of great music. No, the YouTube Orchestra was ground-breaking and reassuringly democratic. It was definitely not elitist, a word that has become fashionably pejorative but which aptly describes the creative processes underpinning all great works of art.

This is really awkward writing and smacks of an amateur out of his depth. Translation: They didn't practice enough and this shows the decline of Western civilization. And, what does elitism have to do with creativity? In other words, only a chosen few, a superior strata of society, which we dare not name ourselves to be superior, can claim to understand or appreciate great music.

Whether or not the YouTube Orchestra turns out to be a gimmick, it made a lot of noise in the media. In that respect it is part of a trend: the classical music industry has woken up to the fact that it must shout to be heard amid the competing noises of contemporary culture. That means downplaying the demands and subtleties and complexities of the art form and, instead, emphasising the things that make it look sexy: youth, cross-over, consumer choice, talent contests, downloads, the very same sales techniques used by popular culture.

There's that sense of entitlement that arises all the time in classical music. Classical music or musicians for that matter, shouldn't have to work on marketing because somehow that is beneath this majestic art form. The quality of classical music alone should bring peoples in droves to concerts. What century is this guy living in?

Has classical music suddenly become a follower, or even a victim, of fashion? The very word “classical” implies something old and immutable, far removed from passing fads and fancies as if it has always been there. Just look at the temples of performance-culture – London’s Royal Opera House, Boston’s Symphony Hall, the Vienna Musikverein, even the relatively modern Metropolitan Opera in New York – and you can’t mistake the message: these are museums of music, pillars of continuity, guardians of a repertoire that seems fixed and above fashion.

"Temples?" Is this music or religion? Oh no! Classical music may have to work a little bit to gain a younger audience. Perish the thought! We have built museums for these dusty treasures; great pillars and "guardians" of culture. What do we need to guard it against? That's no attitude that's going to bring in audiences. Museums? Is that what it is? Something to be preserved behind glass? I thought it was a living, vibrant art form still engaging people. Excuse me.

That's the trouble: fixed and relegated to a museum in some people's eyes. As one listener reportedly said, " I don't listen to any music written after 1850." There are countless examples of how the now sanctified composers were once ridiculed in their time for being charlatans or of no talent. They were not fashionable in their time. This guy needs to read more history. I think he learned about music from a cereal box.

That’s true, up to a point. The ultimate judge of this or that symphony’s quality is not a weekly pop chart or a Classic FM playlist, but posterity. Great music rises above fads and fashions. It may have been written in a style that was fashionable at the time of composition (even Mozart and Wagner built on the stylistic precepts of their age) but it is music that people have wanted to play and listen to ever since.

This is so laughable. We are preserving music for a generation not yet born. The last bastion of classical music are public radio stations. We are hands down the number one promoter of classical music. Would Little Lord Snoot be surprised to find that some stations actually use playlists and limit the rotation to a limited number of chosen pieces. Even more horrified would he be to learn that sometimes software chooses that selections based on set parameters. Sounds like a pop station or FM?

That is a popular assumption. It is not the whole truth. Looking around the world’s opera houses and concert halls today, you could easily assume Handel and Mahler have always been popular. You might also assume, from the scant recognition accorded Haydn in this anniversary year (200 years since his death), that he has always lagged behind the elite. You would be wrong.
There is no such thing as a repertoire fixed in stone.

Yes indeed there is. Just look at every major orchestra across the country and you will see the same pieces being played over and over again. Of course, there are some orchestras who take chances and play new music, but the old war horses aren't going anywhere. Haydn lagged behind the elite? What elite? The Prince for whom he was composer in residence?

Classical music may not be subject to the “here today, gone tomorrow” fashions in clothing or pop; its timelines are decades-long, rather than weekly or yearly but it is just as prone to cultural shifts and trends. Taste in classical music is a highly complex reaction involving what audiences hear and respond to, what orchestras, conductors and soloists enjoy playing, and what happens to be available. A century ago people only heard the live music of the day They listened in the concert hall or bought a piano score and played it at home. There was a single tradition, which was subject to accretions that were rejected or developed, and which then moved on. It was like a corridor with a few rooms off to the side. Today we live in a house of many floors, accessible to everyone. Thanks to the internet revolution, you can click on any type of music from the past eight centuries within 30 seconds.

What this part he wrote while he was stoned? This seems a little disjointed.

“We’ve been slow to recognise what a radical departure this is,” says Sir Nicholas Kenyon, managing director of London’s Barbican Centre. “What people are choosing from is far more random and wide-ranging than in the past. The sheer availability of it all makes people insecure because they no longer turn to a single source to dictate their taste.”

Oh no! No high minister of music to lead the dull masses to high culture? Egads! What shall we do? People have choices! I would never assume that people need to have their musical taste dictated to them. No matter how much money and marketing is thrown at an artist, people can smell a phony; even 14 year olds.

One positive result of this trend is that music with no connection to the long-familiar classical tradition can enjoy a new success, as the 12th-century composer Hildegard of Bingen has done. But there’s also a flash-in-the-pan effect, through the internet and television, that can turn any kind of music into a sudden hit. It has included an amateur opera singer winning the first Britain’s Got Talent competition, a blind soprano securing a recording contract on the back of her success in Operatunity and a comedian conducting a professional orchestra at the Proms, as Sue Perkins did last year after winning Maestro, another television talent contest.

So, internet good sometimes? But internet bad others? Mongo confused.

Exactly how this sort of overnight exposure will impact on classical music in the long term is anyone’s guess.

I'm guessing internet exposure for classical music is a great plus. There's far more there than contests. Has this guy ever done a YouTube search?

Fashion is a reflection of what excites a majority at any one time. It thrives on herd instinct, born of a fear of making individual judgments that could be exposed as “wrong”.

Seriously, is this guy from the 19th century? This has to be a hoax.

By definition it is fickle. It’s easy to be taken in by the noise, as the classical world was when record companies, on the cusp of the CD revolution and The Three Tenors, tried to market opera singers and classical instrumentalists like pop stars. For a while it succeeded, but we have since seen a return to the primacy of the live event. Classical music’s longevity gives it an advantage over popular culture: it has had time to winnow out fashions that didn’t last and turn those that did into long-term movements.

This is another prevailing attitude. Anything that is popular is lacking substance because the masses follow the lowest common denominator in culture. While this is still true at Lynrd Skynrd concerts, some things actually has substance. Domingo said of that project that as long more people came to the opera, he was happy. "Primacy" of what? Wasn't that a live concert? I have news about popular music being a flash in the pan: the Beatles Sgt.Pepper's album is 42 years old. That album will remain a landmark masterpiece for generations to come. Yes, kids, some popular music actually has substance. And oh, there's a style called jazz as well. Perhaps you need to get out a bit more.

And by the way, when Sgt. Pepper came out, one critic called it "fraudulent." Obviously another guy that liked to puff himself up.

But it is as open as any other cultural activity to changing taste. Musical history is littered with it, the concert format being one example. Unlike today’s concert-goers, who expect to be in their seats for no longer than about two hours, audiences a century ago were accustomed to four or five-hour marathons. For much of the post-war era programming was dominated by the overture-concerto-symphony format. That’s now old hat. Half a century ago no self-respecting conductor would have dreamt of speaking to the audience, or introducing the music by way of explanation. Styles of performance have also changed.

The whole world has changed buddy. Maybe you didn't get the 411. People lead extremely busy lives today with multiple choices for entertainment. You cannot compare one era to another. that's ridiculous.

Until recently no one raised an eyebrow about “arrangements” of standard masterpieces. After all, Mozart made his own version of Handel’sMessiah, Mahler re-orchestrated Schumann, Strauss altered Mozart, Schoenberg doctored Brahms.

So?

Today, thanks to the impact of the early music movement, which stresses the primacy of source material, the composer’s writ has become sacred. The fashion now is to follow the original markings in the score, even though composers of previous generations regularly tampered with their own and others’ music. In the next 50 years musicians will probably move on to a different way of interpreting the classics, just as they will find another way of presenting them.

"the composer’s writ has become sacred" I think this is untrue. Early music ensembles include improvisation as well as scholarship. John Eliot Gardiner is bringing us a new Beethoven, Schubert, etc. Interpretation is the lifeblood of the classics. Him likes that word primacy. Must have gotten a thesaurus for his birthday.

Taste changes with the Zeitgeist. The same applies to the choice of music we play and listen to. Today Così fan tutte ranks as Mozart’s most popular opera, but for most of the 19th and early 20th centuries it was barely played. Its “modern” tale of promiscuity offended haut-bourgeois sensibilities; its music, now recognised as sublime, was dismissed by the Victorians as inferior.

Musical taste changes, what's the point? Methinks you are just showing off and off point.

Handel’s operas languished for the best part of two centuries, judged to be artificial and repetitive. Today they are all the rage.

So, let me see, sometimes people misjudge music of their own time? Really? Didn't know that. Huh.

Their revival has coincided not just with the early music boom, spotlighting the pre-1800 era, but also with the proliferation of overlooked repertoire on CD and a trend towards smaller, cleaner voices. There’s one other reason for Handel’s return to popularity in the opera house: his characters echo our 21st-century emotional dilemmas.

What emotional dilemmas? This is nonsense filler.

Just as Handel’s star has risen, others have waned. If you study the names on the façade of the Palais Garnier in Paris, you’ll find Auber, Meyerbeer, Spontini and Halévy, composers whose music appealed to mid-19th-century taste but is now gathering dust. Posterity is ruthless in weeding out music that panders to fashion.

You keep using fashion and I see anorexic women in feathered outfits strutting down a catwalk to techno. So, if a composer goes out of fashion, this is bad? I'm not sure where you are going and I'm damn sure you don't know yourself.

One of the most accurate barometers of musical taste is the BBC Proms. In the pre-first world war period, the top 10 composers by number of performances included Gounod, Mendelssohn, Liszt, Saint-Saens and Sullivan, all of whom, 100 years later, are lucky to get a single hearing in any Prom season (exceptionally, Mendelssohn gets a boost in 2009, the 200th anniversary of his birth).

Until the late 1960s Beethoven symphonies never had fewer than 40 performances in any five-year period. In the past five years there have been just 19. By the 1980s Sibelius and Tchaikovsky, previously popular, had been marginalized but Mahler and Bruckner, whose music barely featured in the first 60 years, had become a staple, reflecting a trend towards bigger, louder music. Since 2004 more Shostakovich symphonies have been played than Mahler or Beethoven. Youth orchestras and non-classical western music are an increasingly visible part of the mix, another reflection of cultural trends.

Of course, the Proms are more than an annual popularity poll. Their role is to lead taste as well as mirror it. “If we were only subject to audience taste, we’d end up with a hall of fame of 20 pieces,” says Roger Wright, director of the Proms. “A core gets repeated but we’re funded in part in order to allow us to keep the unfamiliar and the new in the mix.”

The Proms are to lead taste? I thought they were just concerts that people enjoyed. This guy is too worried. Maybe his fav composers aren't so popular on the concert stage anymore. Maybe he thinks they should have consulted him on the programming. Believe it, there are misfits out there who believe they have a God given responsibility to lead us cattle to the higher grounds of culture that we are simply incapable of discovering for ourselves.

If state subsidisation has kept orchestras and opera houses immune to sharp swings of fashion, why has taste continued to change so radically? Trends can’t exist without trendsetters, charismatic creators and communicators who capture the spirit of the times. They dominate pop and couture, but they also have a huge impact on classical musicals. Think of Leonard Bernstein waving the flag for Mahler in the 1950s, or Simon Rattle more recently awakening interest in the early 20th century Polish composer Karol Szymanowski. What started out as a fashion led to a change in taste.

ZZZZZZZZZZZ

Personalities can just as easily influence by intimidation. In the postwar era the widely respected, and feared, musical theorist Theodor Adorno almost single-handedly killed Sibelius’s music in Germany: there’s still a prejudice against it there.

A music theorist was feared? Must have been a badass dude. Only in Germany.

In the best, ie most discerning, areas of classical music, there is a sense of long-term growth and development. The idea that you can create an orchestra from the internet to play a five-minute piece by Chinese composer Tan Dun makes a great story, but few in the music industry see it as the future of music. What is happening is that the broad tradition of orchestras, conductors and festivals – a tradition that has evolved over 100 years and more – is trying to digest the explosive impact of technology. There’s nothing peculiar to classical music about this. Every field of life is experiencing the same thing.

Is English his first language? Seriously. If you took a random set of players from every major orchestra in the world and told them in two hours they were going to play Beethoven's 7th symphony, do you think they would be worried? Poor Tan Dun: taking one for the team.

The classical tradition won’t disappear overnight, but it may gradually morph in ways we may be slow to notice. Should we be alarmed? Will everything we value and respect start to crumble?

All because of one internet performance? Wha?

“You have to distinguish between the outer shell – the marketing and presentation – and the heart of it, the soul of the musical experience that the performer transmits to the listener. That part doesn’t change much,” says Jessica Lustig, founding partner at 21C Media Group, a New York-based arts consultancy. “The effectiveness of this communication has little to do with the outer shell, apart from encouraging people to come into the hall who might not otherwise do so.”

So, yes, change is happening faster in classical music than it did in the past, but still nothing like as fast as other forms of culture. There are continuities in classical music that we value and respect, and which make it relatively immune to short-termism. In that sense classical music remains deeply unfashionable. That’s why it has lasted.

So, no more under rehearsed YouTube orchestra at Carnegie? Is that that whole point of this blowhard, showoff, snotty little article?

Andrew Clark is the FT’s chief classical music critic

and he is a real good one as well.

I Like to Watch

I like to watch.

No. Just kidding.

Not really. I do like the visual arts. They fascinate me. Often, paintings and drawings take me to mental places that I think even film can't reach. Film is always about moving forward, whereas a painting remains static, but your feelings about it change; even moment to moment. Or at least, that is the intention.

There are places I feel really comfortable in and art galleries are one of them. Or, for that matter, museums as well. Inside these sanctuaries, far away from the real world, are the places of imagination, creativity and sometimes, really funny stuff.

(Let me point out here that I find the idea of the snooty, pretentious culture vampires mulling over paintings at art openings something very appalling. I hate this whole attitude of boho elitism. Eno has pointed out that art audiences "have to act jaded" and I so agree. Like the classical music snoots, I have no patience with these folks. Sorry.)

On the web, I find myself surfing these artsy places and sometimes the results are amazing.

I'm sure I kept this ViennaFair site because it sure has that combination of pretentious trash (colored balls? wha?), outrageous stuff designed to outrage and some very good work. Real fun to peruse.

Amy Crehore art follows a general theme of playfulness with a dash of naughty.

Jonathan Viner I found through Amy's site. Just the right amount of dark and twisted. I am a bit puzzled why naked women with headphones is art, but who am I to judge?

Fancy the surreal? This guy's work is out there and very funny at times.

Justin Micheal Jenkins, the guy who designed the show logo, is a favorite. Detailed, surreal, exact, flowing.

One of the best sources of all interesting things is Boing Boing. Most folks know about this eclectic site that has so many wonderful images, artists and ideas on it.

Of course, bad is good as well; especially really bad.

The merch is hilarious. MOBA mugs! Perfect.

Real Horrorshow

This is Bill. Bill does local pro wrestling.

I don't know why.

Perhaps he likes it when: "the red, red krovy flows real 'orrorshow."

Set Your Rum On Stun

The Velvets once again have actually rehearsed again. Well , not the full band , but pretty close.

Remember kids, this band broke up pretty hard and stayed that way for sixteen years. We have dubbed it the Rum Tour, but it should be called the All is Forgiven and Forgotten Tour.

Last night, in the shadowy studio of Live Mix, a quorum of original Velvet players plus the engine room (rhythm section) of Kai and Brian, we knocked through some tunes. It's funny, but these same four VBs are the same I saw in my mind as being the four players who would unify this band. I never knew why or how, I just had an image come into my mind one day.

Rehearsal is chaos in the form of fun. "Let's go over that one again." "What are the chords in that one section?" "Hey, you guys want to try this one?" Too fast, I need more detail and time to absorb this stuff. The players were focused and it wasn't about one person trying to dominate the music, just adding your own part without stepping on the other players.

I had one of those rare musical moments when, and this is tough to explain to people, I had become my hands. Fripp says that wherever our attention is engaged, that's where we are, regardless of our physical surroundings. At one point, the only thing that I was aware of was my hands. It wasn't a guitar, nor music, nothing but a singular presence of hands. I know that sounds wacky, but sometimes when you do something for so long, it can become more than the actual activity; it becomes a meditation. Most of the time, I feel earthbound, chained in irons and all too aware of the shortcomings in my playing.

And, no, there wasn't any rum to be found.

But that's likely to change.