And Everything Was Ragtime: Summer in Athens

What a difference one year makes. I found the blog entries from this summer when I felt like I was getting crushed by social issues and didn’t think I’d be able to make friends or keep the ones I previously had. That summer was very rough, and it set up my school year to be a rebirth in a way. This summer has been something completely different, and something beautiful all the same. It seems to me that the result of this summer was the product of the entire year cycle that has happened.

The 200 block was something that I didn’t know I could actually do; I had never needed to sit in class at one time for more than a couple of hours. So 4 days a week being in class for six hours with, at the most, an hour break seemed like something I couldn’t do. I also had auditioned for Ragtime and received the role of Booker T. Washington in the piece, which would meet for up to four hours a night 6 out 7 days a week at around the exact same time classes started. So, lined up after only being out of school for a week was three large projects, four days of observations, a gigantic Broadway musical to be learned and performance ready in four weeks, moving from one apartment to another, and then another. “Shoot me in the face” was all I could think the first week.

As both things evolved concurrently, it felt like I was just not going to be able to do one or the other at a high level, and I could feel my mental strength and fight slipping away with each day. I talked to my parents and all I could really do was complain (which in hindsight was not very fair to them). So, finally, as I began to fall into a pit of self-loathing, a very wise and very good friend sat me down and gave me the kick in the ass I needed and deserved. And so from that, my outlook changed and my approach to living was made a lot simpler: treat every day like a new tennis match, and every day is a chance to win.

So the next day rolled around, and I was excited to work my tail off, and all the projects that I thought I couldn’t do suddenly were completed. Booker T’s mature voice began to fall into place, as well as his intensity.

But the greatest thing about turning that feeling around was that I got to realize how amazing the people around me this summer really were. From the friends I’ve had since I entered college to the ones I made this summer in Ragtime, I am happy to say that I have a fantastic circle of people and support, and that I would never want to change this for the world. You all have made me feel so amazingly blessed and happy, and I am grateful and honored to be called your friend.

And now, as the people move out and go on their final vacations or their band camp tours, I am still here in Athens…the era of Ragtime has run out, as if this summer were no more than a tune on a player piano. But I did not know that then.

And as for this blog? I’ll begin to update it more regularly, but in the meantime, I’ll see you at Training Week! 🙂

Kyrie Eleison: The 2011-2012 Academic Year

Kyrie eleison: Lord, have mercy. Now, there’s quite a few ways that simple phrase, translated into English can be interpreted. I’m going to leave that up to whoever is going to be reading this.

The Mass in B Minor has been touted as the greatest choral work of all time. To start this year, I had never been acquainted with it before. I had known the music of Johann Sebastian Bach, and the Baroque era was always a “guilty” pleasure of mine in the classical music world. However, the minute we started learning “Gratias Agimus Tibi”, something told me that there would be an ensuing love-hate relationship with the massive work. For once, my intuition was correct, and the love-hate would grow and become conflicting to its very core. I was learning not only my voice part, but the keyboard continuo, a violin part, the harmonic structure, how to conduct portions of it, stylistic choices for this kind of music. It satisfied every nerd tendency in my character, and it was glorious; it also challenged me to the point of frustration nearly every day.

Then the performance came, and my goodness was it monumental. Seeing my friends, professors, guest artists, and alumni coming back for this occasion warmed my heart. The music itself was amazing. Every solo, every line, every idea coming to life. It was everything, yet it was all one. Faster than I wanted it to, it ended. 

This particular academic year has been a very challenging one, in all aspects of life. It began in a bizarre fashion (as you read from last summer), and then it grew into a joy. Working with the Marching 110 as a manager has been one of the best social and observational choices I have ever made, and I don’t regret it for one second. The dedication, the many different pieces of it all…coming together as one. It is poetry in motion to me, for there is simplicity, complexity, elegance, strength, all coming together to create “The Most Exciting Band in the Land”. At the same time, I was making adjustments to new piano and voice teachers and continued to make music with my brothers in song, the Singing Men of Ohio. I also maintained a position as a music director at the First United Methodist Church in Parkersburg, West Virginia.

Then winter happened. The Bach kept getting more complex, the music in SMO kept piling up, I made the decision to perform a recital in the spring. My classes, which on the surface looked easier, presented intense new challenges. Social situations around me grew and suspended like the painfully expressive dissonances of “Qui tollis peccata mundi“. Physically and emotionally, I felt beat up; always tired, always sick, always kind of doing my own thing. My saving grace, without a doubt, was the Spring Break Tour. But it was still more chaos, more individual lines floating around seemingly without logic.

Spring, contrary to most people, can turn into the most difficult quarter of school. If one doesn’t take the time to reset or center themselves before getting into it, spring becomes a trap. I found that one out the hard way. There was plenty of motivation: the Threepenny Opera, the Acappella Invitational my recital, auditions for the OVST show and the School of Theatre/School of Music production in fall semester, and of course the dreaded Mass in B Minor. There was, again, more classes (Classical Mythology, fyi, is even more difficult when there are distractions and allergy problems) and more social situations.

However, I took some time to myself after having a really good talk with one of my great friends, ZH (he can guess who he is). I searched through my closet and I find a book on counterpoint, which is what makes Bach sound like Bach (not going to get into the description of what, how, etc.). I read the introduction, and one of the sentences gets this point across: counterpoint is the study of how to make many lines and melodies function as one unit of harmony.

Of course life epiphanies can be found while reading a book on 18th century counterpoint. And go figure that the Mass in B Minor taught me a life lesson.

Much like the choir and orchestra on stage yesterday, and the massive collection of notes they played for nearly 3 hours, every event in life seems to be independent yet completely dependent on each other. So what does this mean for me? Well, it’s almost as if the B Minor Mass paralleled my life, and now I am left with a triumphant conclusion (and like the work itself, parts of this lesson that were discovered this year probably happened earlier on, but putting it all together now makes a much better picture).

And now, I leave you all with this triumphant conclusion: “Dona nobis pacem” from the B Minor Mass.

Happy Memorial Day weekend everyone! To all of my friends at OU, we’re almost at the end!

Nocturne

Longtime, no see! It’s been winter since I’ve come on here to blog with everyone, and now the snow has melted away and yielded to the unquestionable beauty of the Appalachian Spring (get it?).

Since we’ve last seen each other, I’ve been writing an opus of piano pieces. An opus, for those who don’t know, could be akin to “album” in today’s lingo. It is a collection of pieces meant to be together at the composer‘s discretion. This opus I’ve been working on is a work called Pieces in the Style of Chopin. As last discussed, Chopin is my favorite composer and I’ve drawn so much inspiration from his works and his short life (he died at 39). A particular piece has stood out from the others, and that is the Nocturne in D-Flat Major, the sixth piece out of the eight piece set.

I actually finished it today, and I adore it so much. It’s funny what composing does to a person, much like when anyone creates art or food. One simply assumes it’s going to be bad until it is all put together. That’s what I’ve been living under this whole time when making this nocturne; there was a constant stream of “Oh, this is going to sound horrible”, “Why do you write music?”, “This should never be listened to by anyone”. And then I listened to it when it was completed; the result was astounding. It is surprisingly simple for what I was going for, which was an imitation of Chopin infused with my own personality.

Then I realized what was so appealing about it for me: it was an honest representation of who I am as a person. As a composer, I always strive for romanticism in my music. I simply do not love any other time period’s music as much, and romantic music as a pianist is what people enjoy listening to the most. Then there’s me the hopeless romantic, who really wants true love someday. I’ve all but given up on the notion of love really here in my twenties. I’ve never been on a date or anything down that alley, so there’s a part of me always wondering if that’s normal. I find that the middle section that goes through some chromaticism from the relative minor (b-flat minor) to the key of the German augmented chord (A major). You don’t have to know theory; just know that it sounds cool, and you’ll figure out where I’m speaking.

What really struck me is that despite wanting to convey all of that meaning all of that romantic nature, all of the hopes I have for future love…it is simplistic. Yeah, there’s another melody going on sometimes, but the piano has been stripped of any pretense. All the showmanship…the potential virtuosic passages…all the things everyone expects from Romantic era piano music…it’s not there. What’s left is a simple poem, and much like those who craft meaning out of the written word, simple is always best on piano.

As I was writing this, the thought of me sharing this music with the world just is such a departure from how I always view my music. I always feel so self-conscious and lack any sort of self-confident when discussing it. The concept is a lot like going to the pool and committing to wearing a bikini or taking the shirt off before going in the water. Not only is there a comfort level needed with the material, but a lot of comfort is needed with the person providing it and “displaying” it to the world. Well, for me, the Nocturne is like doing all of that after dieting for a few months and seeing the results. A lot of musical dieting has gone on with the Opus No. 5, and I hope you enjoy the resulting culmination of the collection.

Please enjoy the Nocturne in D-Flat Major from Pieces in the Style of Chopin, Op. 5, No. 6

Fatal Attractions

Literature has illuminated so much of what is going on in my life with the people in it so well. Today, it’s Anna Karenina. The Tolstoy epic novel about a happily married woman who finds a very wealthy, influential, young, passionate military man and subsequently has an affair with him has been regarded as one of the great books of literature. Its real, gritty portrayal of the decent into depression by Anna through losing her child, her comfortable life with her husband, and eventually her lover is a warning to many who decide to have affairs. Once the reader understands the way Tolstoy writes and how incredibly detailed he is, they truly get a picture of just what Anna Karenina is: a human tragedy (I’m not going to give away the plot for those who haven’t read this book and would like to read it).

What is not okay about Anna Karenina is when parallels to the real world begin to show up. It’s not as I’ve regularly seen people cheat on their spouse/significant other, nor any other detail about Anna. But I couldn’t help but see it pop up in a situation that has turned dangerous for the people involved and awkward for the rest of us who are having to bear witness. It’s not as if the situation has been hidden well, or that it’s okay. It’s not okay, and the circle of friends affected can see it. But when is it time to intervene? No one seemed to intervene on Anna’s behalf in the novel. Part of it is because, well, novels need drama, and letting the heroine destroy herself makes for good reading. Part of it is also societal norms of the time. This book was written in the late 19th century, when the concept of affairs, particularly in the social class where Anna and her lover begin, was that a little bit on the side was fashionable. Anna’s lover, Count Vronsky, was given approval from his own family for a “tasteful affair” as long as it didn’t ruin his chances for upward mobility.

Believe it or not, that doesn’t work in the 21st Century. What is different is that instead of being able to pass it off as a tasteful affair, the “he said, she said” gossip rings are much more active and readily connected to each other via the Internet, Facebook, text messaging, and eventually the other party will find out. It took a couple of months for Anna’s husband to find her out, while it could only take a couple of days in modern times. Also in the 21st Century, there are more people who will think an affair is wrong. Not to say that 19th Century Russia always approved of affairs but more or less, it was acceptable in that time period throughout Europe for men to initiate affairs. It was a part of the chauvinist thought process. In the here and now, almost all people will view the course of action in an affair as wrong and will probably confront both parties.

Not to say that the situation that I’m observing has materialised into what could be described as a true affair. But to even allow the question to cross the mind of the observers means that it’s already gone towards that route. It is at the point now where a serious evaluation needs to take place or else it could get much worse. The point of no return, if you will. I surely hope that it will come back to the other side of the line; I’m not certain that it will, however. To quote Tolstoy:

“I want you not to meet that man here, and to conduct yourself so that neither the world nor the servants can reproach you…not to see him. That’s not much, I think. And in return you will enjoy all the privileges of a faithful wife without fulfilling her duties. That’s all I have to say to you. Now it’s time for me to go. I’m not dining at home.’ He got up and moved toward the door.” – Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina, Book 3, Ch. 23

My Favourite Composers

So, this is not going to be a reflective blog post (at least it’s not trying to be). Instead, it’s going to be a top 10 of my favourite composers and the compositions that I love the most from them. If I get a little sentimental, sorry!

10. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791)

Pros: The Magic Flute is just the bomb; the Queen of the Night arias are some of my favourite pieces of vocal music period. He is pretty much considered the Greatest Composer of All Time along with Bach and Beethoven.

Cons: To me, I find his music a little predictable and boring. His later music gets a bit more inventive, but at the same time, it maintains this “I know I’m listening to Mozart” feel.

Favourite Piece: “O Zittre Nicht” from The Magic Flute

9. Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827)

Pros: The Symphonies are very expressive, and they capture more emotion than Mozart’s music. He is the logical bridge between Classical and Romantic musical periods. I really enjoyed playing his piano music.

Cons: Again, he can get into a trap of being highly predictable and trackable. Less than Mozart, but I’m still aware I’m listening to music of the Classical Era.

Favourite Piece: Symphony No. 5 (What can I say…lol)

8. Johann Pachelbel (1653-1706)

Pros: Canon in D is pretty (even if it is technically a passacaglia). He contributed highly to the art form that is the fugue and chorale prelude.His other music was pretty awesome too.

Cons: Canon in D.

Favourite Piece/Guilty Pleasure: Canon in D. (I’m sorry to all my cellist friends.)

7. Claude Debussy (1868-1912)

Pros: Made impressionistic music for me, really. He and Ravel just made such pretty palate choices, just like Monet’s paintings. It’s beautiful music, and if you understand the music theory behind it, it makes it even more interesting since it was so simple yet complex.

Cons: There may sometimes be an overkill on using hazy chord changes, and it could lend itself to poor interpretations (mostly by myself, lol).

Favourite Piece: Suite Bergamasque

6. Maurice Ravel (1875-1937)

Pros: His piano music is so amazingly complex; he is perhaps the best orchestrator in all of classical music. His knowledge and use of the tonal colours of the orchestra is absolutely amazing. He also writes such a wide range of melody.

Cons: Like Debussy, his music can be too complex at times.

Favourite Piece: Pavane pour une infante defunte (Pavane for a Dead Princess)

5. George Frideric Handel (1685-1759)

Pros: I am a sucker for Baroque music, and Handel’s is by far one of my favourites. It’s just the way his use of the keyboard or orchestra or choir sounds. It sounds so regal and proper.

Cons: There’s this made up term that I’ve coined called the “Standard Handel Tempo” where you can apply the same tempo but it’s subdivided differently (Hallelujah Chorus = For Unto Us = Total Eclipse from Samson…etc.)

4. Pyotr Illyich Tchaikovsky (1840-1893)

Pros: Romantic music at one of its heights. He seems to understand how to use emotion in a controlled manner, which makes his music so beautiful. Swan Lake, Romeo and Juliet, The Nutcracker, Symphony No. 6…so beautiful.

Cons: Tchaikovsky’s orchestration makes an orchestra sound very small. It could sound much bigger, since there were more instruments in them than most orchestras to that point in history.

Favourite Piece: Romeo and Juliet Fantasy Overture

3. Giacomo Puccini (1858-1924)

Pros: Some of my favourite melodies of all time were written by Puccini. Turandot, Tosca, La Boheme, and Madame Butterfly are some of the best operas written (in my opinion). His music exhibited a great use of exoticism and a keen ear for drama and tension.

Cons: Some of Puccini’s music can get a little too big at times, and the ending to Tosca, while epic, doesn’t make sense with his use of leitmotif in the opera.

Favourite Piece (Work): Tosca

2. Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750)

Pros: Mind-blowing counterpoint and he’s just absolutely one of the most intelligent composers I’ve ever had the privilege of playing and singing. The Mass in B Minor is going to be one of my favourite major works ever.

Cons: I can’t think of any really, but he’s still behind my #1

Favourite Piece: Prelude No. 8 from the Well-Tempered Clavier, Book 1

1. Fryderyk Chopin (1810-1849)

Pros: Delicate, highly emotional music. In any medium, I feel that Chopin’s music really hits me hard in the soul. His music was the earliest memory of music that I can even conjure up, and I remember being sat in my mom’s lap as she played me the “Etude in E Major”. It also has been the music that I can interpret the easiest. His use of chords is perhaps my favourite of any composer.

Cons: Lack of output for orchestra, choir, etc. His only symphonic works have been piano concerti and similar mediums, and they seem almost designed to fit into the piano sound. His music can get a little too intimate (he was known for not being able to fill a concert hall with sound).

Honeymoon Lost

So, to those of use who go to Ohio University, there’s a sort of enchantment that Athens casts over us. We leave it, and we can’t seem to wait to get back here just to go Uptown or to see our friends. But, there are some, like me, who are starting to lose the magic that Athens seems to contain.

I don’t understand quite why that is happening. I still enjoy the people, I still love seeing my friends, or hearing about things from my 110 friends. However, the magic just isn’t there. There’s a certain something missing from the equation, and it’s hard to put my finger on it. It could be the location. It is an hour and a half from both major population centres of Columbus, Ohio and Charleston, West Virginia; having grown up in a city my whole life, it’s harder to adjust to the relatively small size of Athens. It’s about the size of my suburb in Columbus, just thrown into Appalachia.

I suppose it’s natural to want to move on, but I’m only a junior. I’ve got another year to go before I can think about picking up and moving. But at the same time, I just want to go ahead and get on with going to the UK at this point. One can call it burn out, but it’s not not burn out. I want to learn, and I want to finish my degree…it’s just that the allure of Athens seems to have just left my body. Is it really okay to feel this way? I don’t really mind Athens, but I’m left counting down to when I can leave, and that’s not how anyone should operate. It should be about the times that are awesome, and that’s really how this year has been. I take nothing but positives from the people I know and the places I’ve been with them. But maybe it’s time already. Who knows.

History and Geography: The Red-Headed Stepchildren of Curriculum

In most American schools, the most important subjects are always the ones that receive testing on the graduation tests and college entrance exams. We suffer through 4 years of math, at least 3 years of science, and 4 years of English/literature/writing. History and geography are always the odd children left out. While American schools try to promote careers in science and mathematics, and we continue to move in the technology career paths…what are we to do in the global world if we aren’t up to snuff in history and geography as well?

I was fortunate that I was able to receive four years of history and geography, and it happens to be my expertise (in terms of core curriculum). However, some schools will gloss over history and offer no geography. What has that left us with? That’s left us with this http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJuNgBkloFE What is that, you may ask? That is a portion of the general public (I just can’t believe that they could find that many people in one sitting) that is lost to where France, Iran, Australia, and North Korea are located. I could probably excuse Iran, but Australia!!? The continents are an elementary school concept, and as we grow through our curriculum, we see an increasing lack of being able to place the United States correctly.

It’s easy to write it off as an anomaly or that I’m overreacting, but in my high school, I watched on the first days of both World History (freshman year) and Advanced Placement European History (junior year) as people put the United Kingdom where France was, France in Spain, and put Germany in Russia. Italy was lost in the ocean somewhere, and Greece had no hope of being placed. And, thank goodness, this was only on a map of Europe. Because when we moved to the United States and the Americas, it was far worse. The USA ended up in Canada, Mexico in South America, and somehow, Argentina was the entire Pacific Ocean.

In a globally-oriented world, it’s important to understand WHERE your jobs have gone. Or, quite frankly, where you want the jobs to stay. Don’t point to Europe or to the ocean when referring to America. And, for goodness sake, the United States is not where Russia is because “we’re the biggest and most important nation in the world”. Yes, we have great importance, but as seen with this European debt crisis affecting U.S. stock indices, we are all just as important as the next country. No, we are not located in Russia. We wonder why we’re viewed as ignorant and stupid sometimes, but then we can’t commit ourselves to encouraging our children to know where the important players in the world are located in the world. It’s important to know where these are, not just for the pure sake of knowing where we’re going, but for historical context.

America’s battles in WWI, WWII, Korea, Vietnam, and the recent wars in Iraq and Afghanistan have taken place on two continents and 4 regions that maintain importance today. In order to remember Normandy and D-Day, it would be imperative to know that it was the invasion of German-occupied Europe from Great Britain onto the northern French shore. It is a major historical moment in American history, as we began what would be our most justified war and the war that would establish the United States as a super power in global politics. Iraq and Afghanistan are located in a region that Iran is located, which is why Iran is even more relevant. And history is just as important. Remembering history should have indicated that a determined populace will make any armed conflict much more difficult, and that insurgent warfare will increase risks of losing soldiers (American Revolution-Vietnam-Iraq/Afghanistan anyone?).

It’s no myth that history repeats itself, or presents patterns of thought that tend to be repetitious. It’s so crucial that we learn about all history, however. Not just American history, but all, so that we may spot these patterns and make more informed decisions. It would be comparative to a toddler touching the hot stove, forgetting that the stove burns when it’s hot, and repeating the action in 2 month cycles for the rest of the toddler’s life.

The Ohio State Legislature today is taking steps to make sure that students read important American and Ohio historical documents like the Constitutions of both the United States and Ohio, the Federalist Papers, the Declaration of Independence, and the Bill of Rights. Pardon me for assuming this, but didn’t we have to learn about them in great detail in school? I remember at some point having to read several articles of the American constitution, know in and out the Bill of Rights, read and think critically about the Federalist Papers, and listen to the Declaration of Independence. Understanding how the government was intended to work has such an important role in becoming a good citizen, no matter what your politics. That we have let our children, somehow, not really learn how the government is supposed to run could be responsible for the fact that people still think the President writes legislation. Or that the President controls the economy. Or that the President is waging a war against religion by demanding basic human rights for all peoples, no matter their race, gender, sexual orientation, socio-economic stature, and other factors. While it is true that the President is a very important position, reading the Constitution would show that the President is charged with enforcing legislation, guides and informs his party (but should not write legislation), meet with foreign dignitaries, and essentially be a leader in decorum and placing pressure on the people who DO regulate commerce and write legislation: Congress.

History and geography are so crucial to our existence as Americans. We need to do more to promote the learning of these “useless facts”, before the United States is a large body of water, and the President maintains centralized, absolute power over the rest of the government (sound like the government that we revolted against in 1776, anyone?).

That’s a Wrap: 2011

December approaches, and with each December, I look to celebrate my birthday, then Christmas, and then a new year begins. Yup, it’s going to be one of those, ladies and gentlemen: a reflection blog. To see where I am right before my 21st birthday in comparison to where I was before my 20th, it’s as if there were two different people, and so many things have happened in this time that have allowed me to feel in a right place.

 

The most important is that old saying that life is short, and we must make the most of what we have. I never believed it, and why should I? I was 19 and every day felt as if it were an eternity at this point. Life wasn’t beautiful, it wasn’t anything I wanted a part of, really. It was bleak, cold, and very much a moment where I felt no one in Athens really understood who I was. Then something happened during the winter. I found out that my grandfather had gone to the hospital for a heart condition and that his health was genuinely in jeopardy. He had gone from, the last time I saw him in 2009, being an independent man who could do the yard work, cook, drive many places, play tennis, and even walk far distances was reduced to being bedridden in the hospital with fluid in his lungs. I found this out right before a University Singers concert, and I cried openly. I had lost a great aunt, and I knew that there would be a time soon for my great-grandmother to pass on, but this was shocking. I hadn’t been able to keep up with him or my grandmother as often as I would have liked that quarter, and was hit out of left field. Then I found out from my mother that there was a condition that put a conceivably finite amount of time on how long he had to live, and I had never felt so cold and distant than that moment in the hallway of the music building between class. There was a perspective to my mainly socially-driven problems, and only until this fall quarter did I manage to finally piece that into an idea, into a belief that as long as I try to make the most out of my interactions, this will only continue.

 

Spring arrived, and with it a chance to redo my physical self. I managed to put myself through a pretty intense exercise regime at least 4 times a week, and as a result, my body composition changed and I dropped back down to my high school pant size. Not nearly a dramatic metamorphosis, but combined with my mom, we lost the weight equivalent of a rather large dog. And I ran my first 5k, and as someone who never loved running at all, it was a major achievement for me. During this time, I finished my musical, and I arranged a piece for Section 8 called “I Believe in You”. I had never been the person, and still am not, to have confidence in my creations, be it in print or in music, and the idea that they were giving it a shot was enough for me. What transpired though was something special, as the group worked it from being simply notes on a paper to a truly powerful meaning, sung with the most conviction and beauty that I’d ever seen them do or anyone do live. The Mom’s Weekend concert was perhaps the proudest moment I’ve had in my life so far, and it was thanks to Section 8 for believing in the arrangement and making it something special, French and all.

 

Then we parted ways, and what transpired during the summer was recorded in this blog. But as one of my friends said once it was all over: “As long as we don’t dwell, it will [all] be fine”.

 

Then as soon as we ended summer, fall blew in and another chance to start anew began. Rather than waste the time of slowly and rather shyly incorporate myself in the same pattern of the previous two years, something changed all of that. I had to become an adult: I received a position as Director of Music at Parkersburg’s First United Methodist Church. I was no longer only working for myself, as a student normally does, but for the learning experience of others and their enjoyment of music. It forced me to think, for the first time in my life, truly about other people. I love this job, no matter how much it frustrates me sometime, because I can see the progress my choir makes, and it’s so inspiring to continue my craft and get out into my field of work. I don’t know if I could really be anything else but a music teacher in my life.

 

And then there’s one of the joys of my life: the Marching 110. Coupled with SMO, this quarter was perhaps the most fun, and the greatest experiences I’ve had in college. Ever. What was written down as a pretty simplistic job (manager) turned me into a cheerleader, a proud parent, a physical therapist, a security guard, a roadie, a food provider, a disgruntled football fan, a very happy football fan, a world mover, a runner-tripper, and has given me over 200 of some of the best people to share all of this with. Without the opportunity to make new impressions on people, I would not be the same person. Every single one of those marchers, from field commander to alternate, has given me such sense of inclusion, purpose, and community that I can’t even begin to say thank you for all of it. And all of my friends, old and new, in both ensembles have just been the most wonderful people anyone could ask for. Thank you all for your friendship; you don’t know how much it means to me to be able to call everyone in SMO and the 110 friends.

 

Finally, there’s opera theatre. The opportunity to perform has given me so much more confidence; knowing that my director and fellow cast mates believed in my ability to follow through and give a top-notch performance of Lily’s Eyes and Make Our Garden Grow fed my confidence in my abilities, giving me strength and the courage to perform rather than crumble under the nerves. Greg (because I know you’re reading this), singing with you is one of my best memories, and something I will always remember, no matter where life takes us.

 

But 2011 isn’t over yet. There are still more notes to be played, more songs to be sung, and more people to meet and befriend. And there are still more times I can see my grandfather and my family and tell them how much I love them with all of my heart. There are three weeks left, and I fully intend on making those three weeks mean something. No amount of time should be wasted guessing or wandering.

 

And 2012? There’s 2/3rd’s of an academic year, the continuing of research into a new life in the UK, SMO tour, potential fundraising and saving for a European 110 and Wind Symphony trip, orchestra Ohio tour, a potential outing to London for job searching, the B Minor Mass, semester shift, good times with great people, and all of the Great Unknown that only God knows. Here’s to looking forward to January 1.

Arguments: Why They Are Healthy

I’m blessed to have the most argumentative friends on earth. Mind you, I said argumentative not stubborn. There’s a huge difference. Those who are argumentative love to argue, but aren’t afraid to say they’re wrong. Argument is healthy because we learn in the process, and it’s human nature to be inquisitive within reason and learn from our quest of proving the other person completely wrong.

After seeing the movie Immortals (which I highly recommend), I sit with my roommates and presume to straighten out our understandings of Greek mythology. Those of us who have studied, read, or been forced to read Greek mythology know that it’s more complicated than Disney’s Hercules (actually Heracles) leads us to believe. But the fun part is that we’ve battling any and all things from pronunciation to who did Zeus violate to create more deities, demi-gods, and other entities…and it’s not a stubborn argument. We conceded our points quite often. It’s actually still going, and it’s animated us to stay awake at least until 2 a.m. now. But it’s not just all about Athena and Theseus either.

The greatest thing about being a part of an ensemble that has no leader but is run through consensus is that we have trial and error, voting, and…of course…being argumentative within reason. So many positives have come out of our think tanks which could be viewed from an outside perspective as sometimes group discussion, sometimes group stubbornness. It’s so important when it comes to being in groups that it takes time out to be argumentative. Some of the best ideas and best consensus actions have come from being argumentative. And that means also knowing when to back down and realize that in this kind of Socratic debate, it is possible to be out-reasoned. I can’t count how many times a certain friend of mine has proven his vocal intuition is significantly stronger than mine, and it’s turned from being a Socratic debate to a deference on my part. And that’s great.

That does not mean that being argumentative or living for the debate means that you should back down from personal beliefs. I was challenged by one of my non-physical friends (a term I use for those friends I’ve met through the networking chain) about my belief on race vs. culture. While I agreed that race could be used as a negative definer and stereotype of a group of people, I struggled to see how one could live “outside” of the current racial structures of the United States. Especially when government documentation requires you to choose what is your race or mark “other” if it’s complicated. I responded by saying that I was proud to be black because I am not the stereotype at all. I am a musical theatre loving, tennis playing, novel writing, piano playing, “only ghetto when I have to be” black person. Culture is what matters most, and if one identifies with the culture, one feels at home and comfortable. That’s my personal belief. He felt that culture and race were not anything, and that he views people without race. Now, some of us may view that as a utopian view of the world, seeing as that would imply that race does not matter (which is a good point, and I think that is great). My personal view is that race isn’t a sole definer, but it can be something used for pride, as well as culture. I am proud to be a black Belizean-American, who plays tennis and plays piano and likes reading and all of the other activities that I truly enjoy. It is part of the whole picture. That view that I’ve now maintained would probably have never surfaced without that argument taking place.

My favorite activity, however, is watching two friends really debate and argue on such a high intellectual level, challenging societal norms. Two of my friends seem to always get to this level of arguing and it is, in my opinion, the most beautiful argument. They completely turn all of us who witness or participate from being comfortable with everything to challenging our every day actions and interactions within 30 minutes. That is an amazing accomplishment, and it’s something that I’ve benefited from and the world could benefit from. Because without looking at ourselves and growing from what we’ve learned, argument or not, the human experience is lost.

You may not agree with that; let’s have an argument and see what more we can learn.

Return

Well, it’s been a few months since my last blog, but so much has changed. What had transpired in the summer has now been glazed over; we all were adults, moved on, and resumed being the people we have been. And I’m okay with that. I’m okay with it because of just how wonderful this quarter has turned out to be.

 

I’m not used to feeling at ease, calm, and in control, but that’s what happened. I had no idea what to expect going into this year, and originally, I had made a pact with myself that I would not be social, and that everything I’d do would be strictly for furthering my academic career and experience. No one could hurt me if I didn’t let anyone in. But almost instantly, that was thrown out of the window, all thanks to the Ohio University Marching 110. The Marching 110 was an experience that I didn’t know what I was getting myself into, but on that first day of Training Week, I could feel it was going to be something special. And it has been. The same feeling came when I got back to SMO. Something about these two organizations will take you and throw you into more positions where you will find out what you are truly made of, and in the safety of an entire marching band or choir of friends that will help you right back on your feet, whether they know it or not.

 

To go back to the calm and security, I had never imagined I’d feel this much control. It’s as if having told myself I get to start over, essentially, was the thing I needed most of all. Being with an entirely new group of friends allows you to explore who you truly are, and at your core what you want them to think of you as a person. And so I chose this time to reset, try new things to work on me, and to finally start to not be so bound by the judgement or perceived judgement of my personality. To “not give a damn” is perhaps the best feeling in human existence, and I wish everyone to feel this. It’s not that you don’t care, but you realize that all that is controllable is those personal choices.

 

It’s that realization that led me to do things I normally wouldn’t have done. I pursued Opera/Musical Theatre Scenes this fall quarter, and what started as hoping to get an ensemble part led to singing Lily’s Eyes and Candide in “Make Our Garden Grow”, and it’s the growing comfort with aspects of myself that I can’t change, like my singing voice, and embracing that it is different from a lot of people’s, but that’s what makes singing such a unique experience. And maybe I would have done it at another point in my life, but this just seemed so ready to happen…so necessary, even, that I can’t imagine it coming at another point in my life. This quarter was the start of a renaissance, at least it seems that way to me. Something changed, and now the kicker is to see if it continues throughout the rest of the year.

 

This rather lengthy entry is going to be concluded with a message to all of my friends. Thank you all so much for putting up with me, stupid sayings, Wicked-Phantom love, completely unstereotypical, crazy self for so long. I feel that I owe a lot of what I’ve accomplished from your interactions with me, and your willingness to be open and real people. There’s a trust that I have with you all now that I haven’t had with anyone before, and I truly enjoy it. Here’s to a fine quarter, everyone, and hopes that the Lord will deliver more fantastic moments to all of us.