My Milonga -- the scoop

I'm so proud of this piece... and this day.



So much drama around the darn thing! I started it in 2003 when my composition professor, Bruno Louchouarn assigned it to the Comp I classes instead of the standard "invention."

"You have to write for different voices in a tango as well... why not write something you can use?"

He's not only a genius, but a practical sort as well!

Flash forward five years: Thursday night before the recital, and this thing is hot off the press as I head off to Oxy for my one and only rehearsal. It just doesn't want to get done! I can listen to all the Astor frickin' Piazzolla in the world and cry dramatic, heartfelt, longing tears -- I CAN'T FINISH IT! So I show up with 90% of it done, and a B-section that is a SHELL of what it should be.

BTW, did I mention I spent the whole day trying to track down a violin player? Thought I had one... then I didn't! (Who the hell scheduled these recitals on Passover weekend anyway?!) On the horn all day while trying to write, attend a rehearsal, pay for rehearsal space at ANMT... fortunately I ran into Elise Dewsberry's husband there, Stephen Green, a professional cellist, who took out his blackberry or some such device and gave me Jean Sudbury's number. By 3:00 pm, I had a violinist!

But Jean couldn't come to rehearsal that night. Fortunately, she's such a pro and does lots of tangos in her playing life, so she said she'd meet us at 12:30 the day of the recital to run through it a couple of times with the rest of the group. "It'll be fine!" she assured me... whew, what a relief! Okay, a little nervewracking, but I had some other fellas to meet.

Simeon Pillich, who's played with such greats as Al Jarreau, Burt Bacharach, The Stylistics, Melissa Etheridge and Alice Cooper, recorded numerous international film soundtracks and is now a professor at Oxy, had always been a buddy since my trying to finish in 2003. When I got out of my jury on March 18, my panel was worried about my getting personnel for this piece. Get them quickly, they said! I walked out of the room and there was Simeon. "Wanna play a tango for my recital?" "Sure!" he says... then proceeds to get me the wonderful UCLA senior and jazzman extraordinaire, Max Kaplan, on clarinet too!

Max and I talk a lot on the phone and tells me he and his violinist friend love to improv. I tell him the piece is simple... and I'll have music for him when we meet. So grateful he was willing to drive out from the westside.

I met my piano man, 18-year-old self-described "slacker" Michael Saucy at Stephen Bent's trombone/voice recital on March 30. He was playing big time jazz and was as cool (and cute!) as a button. I ask him if he's a music major: " don't know." Is he available to play for me: "Sure." I don't speak with him again for three weeks... but I know he'll be there.

8:00 pm, Thursday: I talk Max onto campus from the freeway and my guys are all there. I'm so embarrassed by the state of this music -- the parts are a mess, there are barely any articulation/dynamic markings, and I'm lucky I even have measure numbers in the darn thing. Thank goodness for pencils. :) And of course, there's no violin player.

But then that magic moment happens that (Professor) Andre Myers talks about -- the moment you hear your music off the page, off the computer... and in the hands of real musicians. We got through the first two sections... and I'm in heaven! This piece exists now way BEYOND ME... and it really is thrilling...

I forget though, that I've written what I think is a "simple" piano part for a professional pianist/accompanist that, of course, I can't play myself... and I just realize that Michael is an A-#1 jazz guy and improv man. Doesn't necessarily mean he's a good sight-reader! OOPS. So we struggle through a little bit, but he assures me he'll practice and get it. I tell him we'll put some chord symbols in there and make it easier for all of us!

Max, on the other hand, reads like a demon. His part has a lot of rests in the beginning so he says, "I'll just play the violin part." "But it's in the wrong key for you." "It's okay, I'll transpose it." And boy does he! So we get to hear the melody for awhile, until he has to play the real clarinet part, and I just sing the violin.

Simeon? He's a rock. My biggest cheerleader, who kept it real and calm and fun for me. And boy do I love a double bass.

The B-section -- well, talk about SCREWED. Can you believe I wrote that with only 11-bars in it? Standard jazz is at least 12 -- what was I thinking? So it was sounding pretty awful, esepcially since it was just piano and bass written and Michael was having trouble reading the mess I wrote. So I make an appointment to meet Michael late Friday night after a recital to fix the damn chord progression, and I tell Max he's the man -- he gets to improv a beautiful clarinet jazz solo and make me look good!

And talk about good... at one point during break, Max gets on one piano and Michael's on the other and they are just going to town, doing improv all the way. SO HOT. My eyes were watering as I called my friend Diane and let her answering machine record some of it. As Michael told me later about Max (who returned the compliment): "That guy is SICK!" (GOOD, in today's lingo... who knew?)

"How could I be so lucky?" I kept asking myself. Simeon joined them later... and I think "With musicians like this, WHO NEEDS FUCKING WRITERS?" Those three men are amazing, and know a world (jazz) I'll never understand... but will appreciate forever.

I was floating on air after that rehearsal as I rushed out to shoot the last scenes of PLUTONIA at 11:00 pm with Travis and Aubrey at LACMA. I'm running completely on empty, but still find a way to shoot the shit til 3:00 am at Denny's with Travis... all the time thinking "I've got a video to cut and a tango to frickin' fix... I'm insane!"

So Friday night, a half-dead and comatose me spends an hour-and-a-half in a practice room with Michael the Piano Prodigy, and we "fix" my B-section and go over the piano part. I loved talking with that young man, a Berkeley High graduate born to be a musician, who's played jazz internationally, and was/is feeling stifled by the academic life at Oxy. I told him to do what he loves -- play jazz -- he'll figure the rest out as long as he's passionate (and talented!) at what he does. I will be a fan and a supporter and will always wish him well. The future of music is in guys like him.

===

Sunday at 12:30: I meet Jean and hand everyone their newly cleaned-up parts (except for Michael's). They run through it once, with Jean sight-reading it perfectly and with the best of flair. I only give her one direction: that at the recap she embellish all she wants!

Throughout the rehearsal though there are people calling me because they're lost, and the singers are arriving and refreshments are being set up... and I can't hear the whole thing all the way through -- aargh! But my musicians are pros, and after I tell them where they should sit, stand, set up and exit, they take care of themselves. They rehearse it twice and it's beautiful. Jean is all and more she promised to be, and Max is a pro improviser. My only notes? I ask Max to make sure he's playing something on Beat 4 before the recap since everyone else has rests, and then for he and Jean to join in with their own improvised notes at the end so they're all quietly playing.

And they do. It's a tiny rough start at the beginning... but within seconds... again, I'm in heaven.

BRAVO to the players!

The feedback I got from this piece was amazing... and even now, a week or so later, I'm still surprised by it. And so pleased.

It's been the hardest piece for me, with no lyrics and just guts and emotion, romance and longing... and the shock to me: people liked it.

Again... I am so happy. I finally feel seen.

Milonga and Dr. Laura

Coming from a break in working on my Milonga, the one piece that's really hanging me up because I have such high expectations for it.

I took a little drive to the park where I used to walk my dogs, and I heard just a snippet of Dr. Laura talk to a young singer who really was freaking out whenever she would practice her singing... the girl would work herself up to a frenzy so much so that she'd started having panic attacks and start beating herself up for anything short of perfection.

Dr. Laura calmed her down. Said no one notices if something is not sung perfectly, but if it moves the audience. Does she do that, Dr. Laura asked her -- do you enjoy yourself? Because that's what we'll pick up on -- not perfection.

And then:

"Remember what a privilege it is to be able to make music with your body."

My god, exactly what I needed to hear today, as I struggle. I am so lucky!

Flamenco - Tango - Milonga

Weird night tonight -- probably anticipating weird weekend of hand class/enneagram class and full moon. I don't know why everyone's making such a big deal about this harvest moon -- people around me are just a bit TOO AWARE. Weird weird.

This one's for you, Allie -- you probably hate J.Lo, but if you can stand to get 2/3s through the Ain't It Funny video -- take a look at the cajon (box drum) player. That's the friend I was flirtin' with in my Yo Estoy Loca post. Fun, no?

This brings me to tango...and the fab movie The Tango Lesson, a film by Sally Potter. I loved this movie, and one day will learn this dance. But most of all I want to be like Sally Potter, FILMMAKER-STORYTELLER-PERFORMER. Better do it before I croak.

And I remember lending the video to Ilia when he was working on his tango, Seisouso. I know that skate better through the video camera taping him than I do watching it live....

Lastly, I remember I'm in the middle of finishing my own milonga. Can't wait til it's finished... can't wait to share it.

(First things first, Missy.)

And now it's begun

I got up at 4:50 pm dragged myself to the music department's "mixer" get together today at Oxy. It starts at 5:00, so I'm obviously not doing too well...I called a friend to bookend it -- you call to say you're doing something difficult, you do it, then you call back to say you did it and debrief -- because I really thought I was going to puke.

I had to meet the new composition teacher, the one who was chosen over my dear professor Bruno, the one who looks like he could have been born in the 80s. If I didn't go to this, I knew I would be in big trouble for the weekend of "Labour Day" -- with the "U" in there, HH!

Just breathed in real deep and let myself be present and open. Objective: say hello, introduce myself, don't be too self-deprecating, tell him who I am and my circumstances, and make a point to see him next week. Other than than, JUST KNOW THAT NO MATTER WHAT, I AM OKAY.

One last breath and walk into the quad...and I get the warmest welcome and hug from the orchestra leader and conducting professor! The man who reamed my ass a few years ago because I hadn't got my piece and the parts to him quick enough for his people to rehearse (ooh, I deserved it though). What a shock...really happy to see me.

Then right away I connected with the lovely class piano teacher, whose class I took from to pass piano proficiency from. So lovely...we talked about hand analysis, web design, music... so encouraging and a very wonderful woman.

We eventually ran made our way to Prof Myers, the composition guy... and he couldn't have been nicer and more encouraging! I introduced myself as The Oldest Senior You're Ever Meet (he did assure me that he had been born well before I started Oxy in 1978, but I'm thinking maybe two years earlier at the most!). Poor man, he's only been in California for two weeks so I'm sure he was shell-shocked, and he's obviously the youngest man on the team here...but he is very, very nice. I asked about office hours and class times (if I wanted to be around other composers) -- but even as I write this, I don't want to use my time like that, I need to focus and write.

I told him that I needed to finish so my mom could die in peace and not have to haunt me to finish the darn thing! HAHAHA, I thought.

"Nothing like a little pressure." Calm. Grounded.

"I know."

"But you know, we'll just focus on the work. That's how things get done."

RELIEF.

That's it, plain old relief. Focus on the work, stay in the moment, and that's how things get done. This can work. I AM OKAY!

I left him with an assurance we'd meet next week, and proceeded to get another great big hug (when the hell did I get so "huggy" I don't even know!) from my prof buddy Simeon, who promised me we'd BOTH graduate this year as he was in the middle of writing his dissertation at UCLA. I also met the jazz improvisation teacher (how cool is that?!) and the new electronic music teacher, a very beautiful woman, strangely enough. (And yes, they did have to split Bruno's job in two. ;) Feeling very comfortable as I walked with Simeon out to the parking lot, and relieved that the "hello" from my advisor, the department head, went okay as well.

And who do I see in coming into the parking lot area to get his car? The Man himself -- Bruno, looking fantastic -- happy, healthy, relaxed, in his skin. He obviously didn't mean to run into all of us -- and I was feeling incredibly disloyal in being there NOT to see him -- but he sure handled himself well as everyone, EVERYONE was waving hello and warmly greeting him as well (except for... well, I best leave that part out). And the new comp guy came by too, and there I was standing with my composition professors, past and present. (Did I mention that I'd also said hello last year -- and hugged! -- my first professor from 1980?! His wife and Bruno are good friends (she's the French prof and it's fab to hear them speak French) and she's been one of his best supporters through the whole tenure search -- so I guess my world is just coming together, eh?

(I love that I'm saying "my world" again about college, about Oxy. Again, more relief. More comfortable in MY own skin.)

Anyhoo, assured that I'm not on his shit list (why would I be that?! Au contraire, I'm on a GREAT list with Mr. Bruno), I left, happy, with a worldwind emotional breakdown working it's way up the further west I drove on the 134...

Called dearest Heidi to bookend and just get support, but those tears wouldn't fall. That's okay, it's just okay to feel... good.

I'm going to take myself to see The Constant Gardener, which Heidi and Andrew say is terrific, and will give me a large perspective. I just want to see something GOOD, something GROWNUP and ADULT, to be inspired by good work and be taken away by a story and to visit another world (Kenya). Hand Teacher calls it "filling the well."

So I've begun. (And yes, that's the piece I'm working on now :)