Saturday, July 25, 2009

...In Not Starving

During my last semester at CSU, I was interviewed by a first-year music appreciation student for a project--Great guy, Richard. He's an engineering major. His assignment was to interview someone who intends to pursue music as a career. This is what came out.


Interview

Richard Peplin

Cleveland State University

MUS 111

Please feel free to add or change questions. This is an opportunity to share how you feel. The questions are only a guideline.

1. When did you first decide to go into music as a career?

I believe I was a sophomore in High School. I had a particularly devoted Music/Theater teacher who invested a lot of energy in my development as a musician, giving me theory lessons during her free periods at school and teaching me private voice.

2. At what age did you first become involved with music?

I sang my fist solo at a tiny church in Lowell, GA at the age of 6. I learned the song, "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot," in Mrs. McClendon's class at Maple Street Elementary School--when music teachers made their way from room to room with a cart once a week. It comforts me to think that, despite the school system's downgrading of the arts to a special playtime activity, I still found my way toward a meaningful, academic pursuit of music.

3. How did your parents feel about a career in music? Were they supportive or were they concerned?

They were more excited about the prospect of me being a popular music singer or a Broadway star---not so jazzed about my being a composer/avant-garde new music vocalist, but still supportive. They'll always be supportive of whatever I decide to do, just so long as I'm being me while I do it.

4. Do you have any concerns about supporting yourself with a career in music?

It’s always a bit terrifying when I hear what other composers in my generation are doing—my biggest concern regarding my career right now is that there are too many other people in the same boat that I’m in with more talent and better connections. Eventually, we’ll all be applying for the same four jobs at the exact same time…quite disconcerting.

5. How do you feel about the “starving artist” stereotype that surrounds careers in the arts?

It could be either a stigma or a source of pride. To label oneself as a “starving artist” is to profess undying loyalty to the pursuit of one’s art and expression, no matter what the cost—which could make one either a model of dedication and integrity or a complete moron—It all depends on whom one does or doesn’t impress in the process.

6. History is full of eccentric composers (i.e. depression in romantic era composers). How do you feel this contributed to their work?

Something tells me that the eccentricities arose as a RESULT of their work [I’ve noticed myself getting progressively weirder since I began composing]. The work requires one to spend a lot of time alone with his or her introspection— not exactly a recipe for “normalcy”—whatever that means. The more time one spends alone, the less finesse one tends to have in social situations, the more those involved in the situations tend to label one as “eccentric,” mainly due to a lack of understanding of said “eccentric.” Self-respecting people very rarely label THEMSELVES as eccentrics—unless they’re fishing for recognition or attention. So really, the label of “eccentric” is likely more the coping mechanism of the general populous than an actual state of being. Am I projecting here in a big way? Yes..

7. Do you feel a certain degree of eccentric behavior is necessary for a successful career in music?

I maintain that eccentricity is in the eye of the beholder. But, just for funsies, let’s say that the “beholder” is your “average” CSI/ESPN-watching number cruncher at an accounting firm—wears a white collar shirt with a solid-color necktie and pleated slacks to work every day, goes out for $2 pitchers of Bud Light at Happy Hour after work, listens to whatever’s on the radio in the car—if he can sing along with it, it’s a f*ck’in awesome tune by his standards. When he gets home, he pops open a bottle of Gatorade and eats a box of Kraft Mac’n’Cheese for dinner. The most exciting and mind-expanding part of his week is when Anderson Varejao twists his ankle on the basketball court and the ESPN cameras do a close-up of his pained facial expression. “Dude,” he thinks, “that’s raw.” And when, inevitably, the famed athlete rises to his feat and hobbles off the court, from his armchair (Mac’n’cheese in hand) he finds himself mildly moved with a mixture of admiration and sympathy. Strained from his emotional exertions, he has to go to bed. As he swigs and gargles a capful of Listerine, he glances at a three-month-old copy of Sports Illustrated and makes his way to the end of what has just become an exhausting day. Let’s say that’s “normal”—i.e. “uneccentric.” Given the right tutelage and the desire to create, he could be an amazing composer.

8. How would you describe the music you compose?

Colorful, kinetic, intuitive, and expressive—lovely, but not always pretty—occasionally spikey, often linear, hopefully honest. Mercurial.

9. How would you describe the correlation between your music and your personality?

Pretty damn close

10. What are the most important influences on your music?

...my life experiences, musical and otherwise—all that has contributed to my sense of what it means to be expressive, my sense of movement, and my emotional state

11. What composers have had an influence on you?

It is my opinion that we are all influenced in some manner or another by every composer we listen to, but those who have had the strongest influences on me have been my teachers: Charles Norman Mason, Dorothy Hindman, Andrew Rindfleisch, and Greg D’Alessio. Other than my teachers, I find a lot of inspiration in the musics of Johannes Brahms, L. v Beethoven, Louis Andriessen, Susan Botti, Erin Gee, Lee Hyla, Rand Steiger, George Crumb, Igor Stravinsky, Claude Debussy, and Olivier Messiaen.

12. Music is often a reflection of events of the period, how would you describe music written to reflect current events?

Times of strife, whether economic or military, etc., often lend themselves to artistic polemics. It seems that the current musical climate consists of composers who are either (1) trying desperately to write programmatic music responding to the state of the world, or (2) detaching themselves completely from the current state of affairs. Then again, I could be completely mistaken. In my case, I don't always know enough about what's going on to comment on it intelligently. I can allow it to affect my state of being and write music expressive of that, but that's about as close as I get to socio-political commentary. My most honest music comes from my expression of me--because that's pretty much all I'm capable of understanding at this point.

13. Do you think these are opportune times for composers?

Possibly. I suppose it all depends on the sort of music one writes—each has a different appeal. It could be that audiences will look for the music that is most accessible in a time of hardship—there is often comfort in accessibility, in which case composers of that realm will do quite well. OR, audiences will decide that they have nothing left to lose and become more adventurous with the music they pursue—if that turns out to be the case, my career might just be looking up.

14. The ability of music to depict a story is highly debated, where do you stand on the issue? Why?

Hmmmmmm……I think the ability of music to do one thing or another depends on the listener’s perception. On more than one occasion, I’ve heard a listener detail the stories he/she heard in a static piece of music (stories which I knew to be non-existent, as intended by the composer). So hey, if somebody thinks they heard a story in a piece of music, who’s to say that they didn’t? Eh? Wouldn’t that mean that the music did, indeed, tell a story—regardless of the composer’s intent?

15. What type of audience do you compose for?

Whoever will listen

16. In your own words, describe the place of music in society.

Music is a mode of communication that transcends speech and physical gesture. In my humble opinion, its function in society is to serve as a means of expanding our connections to one another (And I mean that in the least cheesy way that it can be said). I'm in a weird place at the moment, trying to convince myself of the validity of abstract expression for the sake of art and nothing more... I keep meeting these composers who base their pieces on the state of the environment or the economic crisis or political turmoil in this, that or the other region. They consider it their responsibility to comment on and illuminate important issues in the world--and that is a perfectly noble thing. My music, on the other hand, doesn't really comment on anything outside of itself. It is my belief that music teaches us facility of communication, the subjective nature of all things, and the value of intuition. And a music that invites listeners to experience a new expressive language has, maybe, done its job...? Maybe, in a way, I'm teaching the world to experience language that transcends prior knowledge or understanding, to experience things as they exist, without trying to define them... Maybe.

17. How do you feel about the use of music as therapy?

Worked for me!

18. Dr. Hirsch talks about the use of music as punishment. How do you feel about music being used this way? Can you think of any music that you would consider punishment if forced to listen to it?

I don’t like the idea of turning an expressive artform into a tool for reprimand. In its use as a negative tool, music is lent a rigid set of connotations (perhaps even definitions), which rob it of its highest quality—its freedom to be interpreted (come to think of it, it’s quite ironic, since using music as punishment is, in a way, a form of interpretation).

19. What are your plans for your music career?

God willing, I’ll get into a DMA or a Ph.D program somewhere, then carve out my own path as a composer/performer/professor/arts administrator.

20. How will you define success in your music career?

Oy. In a perfect world, I’d say that I’m successful if I find emotional fulfillment in what I do. But, alas, the bitter truth is that I’ll have to support myself somehow—and therein will lie my “success”—in Not starving.


Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Old School



Running out of quarters for the dryer can make for some rather interesting photography.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful...beautiful boy

Yesterday, I got an elated text message from my sister:

"I couldn't wait. We're still at the doctor's. It's a boy!!"


First, I had a jumping, screaming fit. Then I had a crying fit. Then I just sort of skipped around Cleveland Heights with a stupid giddy smile on my face for a few hours. Then I went to coffee with a friend and drug the poor dear to the Toy Store on Shaker Square. Then, deciding that no nephew of MINE was going to play with a wind-up midi Mozart machine, I finished his playlist (click on the image to actually read song titles).

Monday, July 20, 2009

Happy Moments from Jenna's Kitchen

Brunch: Oat Bran pancakes, asiago grits, fried green tomatoes, orange slices, apple butter, OJ, and French Press Guatemalan











Dessert: Figs with goat cheese, honey, rosemary, and crushed pistachios











Lunch: Peanut Butter and Apricot Jam on whole wheat nut bread with mixed nuts (pistachios, hazelnuts, and smoked almonds), blueberries, and orange slices









Dinner: Orange and Coriander-scented red lentil soup, spring greens salad with sliced yellow tomato, pan-crisped deviled eggs, and cream dressing









Foursies: Tomato and Fresh Mozzarella stack with a dressing of basil, pine nuts, red onion, dried currants, garlic and lemon juice
















Thanks, Sally Swift and Lynne Rosetto Kasper. The Splendid Table's How to Eat Supper is my new favorite thing.

Friday, July 10, 2009

Skype Brunch

Would you believe that I've never actually eaten out at a restaurant by myself? Well, okay, maybe that's not entirely true--I had some positively abominable Chicken Enchilada soup at the Chili's Too in the Charlotte, NC airport last week during a layover. And of course there are the quasi-fast foody sandwich joints, and the coffee shops that just happen to have food. In those instances, I usually bring a book or something to study, maybe a moleskine that I can write in while I sit and eat/drink, sometimes for practical reasons (like actually having work to do), but most of the time, so I won't feel pathetic because I'm eating alone...BEING alone.


But there is nothing un-beautiful about being alone.


This morning, with the aid of my darling friend, Ariana, I went out to brunch. Alone. Ariana, being the amazing woman that she is, agreed to Skype chat me through my first solitary dining-out experience (which, yes, I know, doesn't really make it a solitary experience--baby steps). We made it a date. I woke up, put on some make-up and a cute outfit, fixed my hair, just like I would were I headed out with a friend. I went to Tommy's on Coventry and asked for a table for one, where I sat and ordered myself a V8, some coffee, and a Johnny Z. omelet. Ari joined me from a coffee shop in Baltimore, and we gabbed our way through the better part of an hour, both receiving weird looks from the clientele in our respective dining establishments. Then my computer battery ran out. So I just sat there for a bit, eating my omelet and talking to no one. Having a date with Jenna. And in that moment (once I got over feeling like my throat was closing up), I felt appreciated. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and let myself be alone. I didn't need anyone to tell me I looked pretty. I didn't feel the need to convince anyone that I was worth their while or dazzle them with my knowledge of obscure Tom Waits albums or whatever shit I could come up with to prove how interesting I am. I was with me, with a Jenna, and she thinks I'm wonderful.