From a student’s recital, to bluegrass and jazz in the Ninth Square, the Independent’s diarist/ teacher emerges from a music-filled weekend with new thoughts about the work life.
Oct. 23, 2005
This was a weekend of music. On Friday evening, I went with a colleague, Crystal, to the United Church on the Green to hear the Elm City Girls Choir sing. One of our students, Reyna, performs in the ECGC Academy, and we wanted to show our support for her. Crystal ran into our student before the performance and told her where we’d be sitting. As soon as Reyna walked onto the platform, she scanned the audience for our faces and blushed when she found us. Throughout the concert, our eyes occasionally met and we both smiled.
I remembered what it was like to be in a performance in high school. I used to be in our school’s chorus, and then in the advanced chorus. I was in the Vermont state chorus and in the New England chorus when I was a sophomore and junior. (I stopped singing during my senior year after a terrible bout of stage fright, from which I’ve never recovered.) I loved being a part of a big chorus. The hundred voices near mine were exhilarating. The energy coming from a perfect harmony, the varying volumes and tempos were enough to make me giddy.
I was definitely one of the music geeks in high school. I was also a drama geek. And the music and drama geeks hung out together a lot. It was a cool group of people —” Greg Swain, the Kates, Mary Hallock, Morgan Ruelle, Davis Wildman, Ramsey Crowe, Patrick Bergeron, Malcolm Purinton. We made each other laugh. We knew each other inside and out. We had inside jokes that no one else in the school knew about. And when we performed, the music we made together became our audible friendship. Simply put, we were joyful. Joyful to be together and making music.
So I saw myself in Reyna on Friday night. I could tell she was into the music, that she had good friends with her, that she was happy.
After the ECGC, Crystal and I went to Caf√© 9 on State and Crown. Pencilgrass, a group Crystal has followed for a while, was playing. I’d never been to Caf√© 9, nor had I heard Pencilgrass, so I was looking forward to the evening for a number of reasons. Plus, some other colleagues — “Mia and Laurean, as well as my friend Norah, were going to join me.
When we arrived, a band called Blue Sky Invention was playing. They were awesome. AND they were having fun. So much energy, so much smiling.
Later, Pencilgrass came on. They, too, were exciting to watch. People were dancing all over the place, having fun. The guys were so into their music. They were interacting with each other and with the audience, and I loved it. “They must be having so much fun,” I thought. “What a job. To be able to go out and make awesome music and have fun.”
It would follow, therefore, that on Saturday, when I went to Firehouse 12 on Crown Street, I would hear more great energetic music —” this time jazz. I have been interested in Firehouse 12 since I heard about it and since I saw its pictures online. (www.firehouse12.com). Jen, Danny, Dennis, and I went to the 10 p.m. show to hear the Tyler Bynam Ho Sextet. The building is amazing. A real small bar downstairs, absolutely beautiful interior design — “low lighting, cool seating arrangement, nice bar. I loved it. It’s the kind of place I’d love to go after dinner. Highly recommended.
We bought tickets for the show and went upstairs to the studio. Firehouse 12 is also a live performance space and recording studio all in one. So we couldn’t bring drinks in and instead walked in a little late. The Sextet was in performance —” nice loud music, dissonant sounds that somehow made sense together. I’m SO not qualified to critique music, so I won’t. But I will say this: I was made completely uncomfortable by the looks on the members’ faces. They were bored. They were uninterested in the music they were creating.
Shouldn’t they have been smiling? Shouldn’t they have shown that they were into it? Shouldn’t they have been looking around at each other, nodding and smiling at each other for the beautiful sounds they made together? The guitar player and the violinist were just sitting there. Doing nothing. Their faces showed none of the energy that their sounds seemed to suggest. They were serious. And I didn’t like it. It made me uncomfortable —” made me think that they were just doing their job.
But then it occurred to me, as I spoke with Dennis about it today: making music is their job. They were working on Saturday night, when it was my time to go out and be entertained. While I expected the entertainment to be lively and fun, I didn’t think about the entertainers themselves, who were probably exhausted and focused on creating a good piece of music. I guess everyone has to have a day when they don’t like their job. Maybe last night was the night when those two performers weren’t really feeling their job. Or maybe not. I don’t pretend to know what they’re thinking.
And for all I know, the people in Pencilgrass and in Blue Sky Invention, and the ECGC for that matter, aren’t happy either. But they put on a good show. Maybe they smile and jump around and fake it. I doubt they’re not happy, though. Because it’s hard to make good music when you’re not feeling the vibe. And they made some pretty good music.