Thursday, December 31, 2009
And a partridge in a pear tree...
Here is my Christmas list from this year. In some ways it was the best Christmas I ever had - flying solo in NYC.
1 adorable Christmas tree decorated with the myriad of cards I received
1 chicken that I lovingly referred to as a "petite turkey" and then roasted and ate
2 tickets to the Tallis Scholars concert with the amazing T.H.
2 tickets to the Handel's Messiah Sing In at Avery Fisher (also with the amazing T.H)
2 tickets to Alvin Ailey with the lovely S.L.
0 private students (!!!!)
4 Church services, one which featured the wonderful talents of my NYSMF girls, Jenny Kim and Kathryn Rudolph, both of whom were shocked by my organ prowess.
4 novels, including Incident Report by Martha Baille (thanks Theo!), Beautiful Boy (heartwrenching), He's Just Not That Into You (I died laughing) and Girl, Interrupted (I love mental hospitals!)
4 batches of cookies and a pecan pie
1 amazing construction project that involved drilling into a solid brick wall (see picture above)
1 wonderful afternoon helping my gorgeous friend Cynthia pack in the "Trifle packing method"
250 GB of hard drive installed into my macbook
1 fingerprinting appointment, which gets me a little closer to my Green Card
4 4" binders, which now contain the scrapbook for my entire career, which took me 14 hours to compile
2 huge bags of clothes to the Goodwill
1 new filing cabinet
10 hours of sleep every night
0 dark circles under my eyes
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Amy Cervini's Love Fool CD Release
It was a great night on Tuesday at the Jazz Standard, where my friend Amy Cervini released her new CD Lovefool on Anzic records. A fellow Canadian ex-pat, Amy moved from Toronto to Boston to attend New England Conservatory and has been in the US ever since.
Amy's band consists of some of my buddies from Manhattan School of Music, Aussie bassist Mark Lau, her brother-drummer, Ernesto Cervini (who was in my combo at MSM) and wonderful pianist Mike Cabe (my duo partner at MSM). These guys have played together a lot over the years and you can really hear it in their interactions on the bandstand. They were tight as a unit, but there was a real feeling of relaxation from each member, and they were each confident in their role in the group.
Amy has all of the goods of a great singer - a beautifully blended voice, brilliant intonation and improvising chops, in addition to a stage presence that is very "her". This CD and her previous one draw from the songbook of our generation - Weezer, Green Day in addition to a lot of material borrowed from Blossom Dearie's set. Amy puts her own arranging touch on each song, which always puts the emphasis on the lyric and interpretation of the emotion of each piece. Leonard Cohen's "Famous Blue Raincoat" was a highlight of the set. Another big highlight - when Ernesto cranked out his high school clarinet. Perhaps I will be inspired to do the same? (Except that Ernesto actually played the crap out of it, when I would just sound like crap...)
Major kudos to Amy for a great show. She is becoming a good friend and is also the newest member of my Sacred Voices project - one Hell of an alto! Check her out online: www.amycervini.com
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Who says you can't go home?
I just finished a short tour in Toronto and Guelph. It was a whirlwind and emotional trip. Whirlwind I was expecting, but it was a shock to me how many different emotions passed through me while I was there.
On Tuesday I played a lunch hour show at a performance space at York University. I graduated from York with my BFA in 1998 and I think the last time I was there was in 1999 to hear a concert my brother was playing. (He graduated from there in 2001) I took the subway up to Downsview station (which I might add, was not built until I was in my third year at York) and boarded the York University Rocket (which in my day was still the 106A bus - now it's a rocket??!?) As the bus turned onto Sentinel road, I was flooded with memories and emotions.
York is a completely different school then where I went. They have build a huge track of new buildings, which I assume is housing for students with families or older students. There is now a proper music building with state of the art facilities and a labyrinth of practice rooms and rehearsal studios. Back in the 90s, we were stuffed into the basement of Winter's college with a couple of lousy practice modules that smelled skanky and had crappy digital pianos in them. There were a few practice rooms, but you had to walk out to the East Office building to get a key to them. I know that doesn't sound like a big deal, but in the dead of winter in North York it was nearly an insurmountable task. The new facility is completely gorgeous. The space that my group performed in was reminiscent of Jazz At Lincoln Center, where there are panoramic views of Central park. In the case of York, there were panoramic views of the campus, but it was a great space to play in. What a change from that dreaded lounge where we hosted the Jazz Bash back in my day.
Despite the less-than-ideal facilities at York, I am extremely proud of the education that I received there. It is no secret that York was not my first choice. I really wanted to go to McGill or University of Toronto, but I was rejected from both schools. My grades were good enough to get into both schools, but neither school accepted me based on my audition. (U of T actually went on to reject me two other times). York accepted me with open arms and so I went, albeit with a bit of hesitation. It ended up being the perfect place for me.
I was accepted into the BFA program with a focus in music. I auditioned for and was accepted into the Jazz Workshop, which was a program consisting of 3 hours of theory/materials, 3 hours of supervised jazz ensemble and 3 hours of unsupervised jazz ensemble each week. The school did not offer private lessons at that time, but we did have instrument specific masterclasses a few times each semester. It was an ideal program for me in that it taught me to be self directed and self motivated in my own education. It really harvested that part of me that is a seeker of knowledge. I thrived in this environment, asking questions and fostering relationships with all of my professors. I picked everyone's brain, went to hear all of my professors perform and in my third and fourth years, I even hired a few of my professors to perform with me. One of the most exciting experiences of my life was when I put together a show with saxophonist Mike Murley. We had a sold out concert in the Mac Pub at York, which was an education unto itself.
York University afforded me the chance to scratch my itch of intellectual curiosity. I took humanities and social science courses. I took film theory. I was granted a top notch education in ethnomusicology and had the privilege of taking Jazz History and Latin American and Caribbean music with Bob Witmer. In my final year I was permitted to do an independent study in Stride Piano with the amazing boogie woogie/stride pianist Bill Westcott. My brain was twisted and stretched in John Gittins' Jazz Workshop, where I was taught the language of jazz harmony.
At York I learned how to learn. I learned how to ask questions and I learned how to go about answering them. I performed constantly, hosting a weekly jam session in the Mac Pub, where other York students were able to get together and work out our jazz chops. The school was very generous with opportunities for me. I performed for events and private parties and was awarded the coveted Oscar Peterson Scholarship two years in a row. I loved York and York supported me back.
I still can't believe that eleven years have passed since I graduated. It blows my mind when I think about it! It was a thrill to be back at my alma mater to see the changes. We have both grown so much in eleven years.
On Tuesday I played a lunch hour show at a performance space at York University. I graduated from York with my BFA in 1998 and I think the last time I was there was in 1999 to hear a concert my brother was playing. (He graduated from there in 2001) I took the subway up to Downsview station (which I might add, was not built until I was in my third year at York) and boarded the York University Rocket (which in my day was still the 106A bus - now it's a rocket??!?) As the bus turned onto Sentinel road, I was flooded with memories and emotions.
York is a completely different school then where I went. They have build a huge track of new buildings, which I assume is housing for students with families or older students. There is now a proper music building with state of the art facilities and a labyrinth of practice rooms and rehearsal studios. Back in the 90s, we were stuffed into the basement of Winter's college with a couple of lousy practice modules that smelled skanky and had crappy digital pianos in them. There were a few practice rooms, but you had to walk out to the East Office building to get a key to them. I know that doesn't sound like a big deal, but in the dead of winter in North York it was nearly an insurmountable task. The new facility is completely gorgeous. The space that my group performed in was reminiscent of Jazz At Lincoln Center, where there are panoramic views of Central park. In the case of York, there were panoramic views of the campus, but it was a great space to play in. What a change from that dreaded lounge where we hosted the Jazz Bash back in my day.
Despite the less-than-ideal facilities at York, I am extremely proud of the education that I received there. It is no secret that York was not my first choice. I really wanted to go to McGill or University of Toronto, but I was rejected from both schools. My grades were good enough to get into both schools, but neither school accepted me based on my audition. (U of T actually went on to reject me two other times). York accepted me with open arms and so I went, albeit with a bit of hesitation. It ended up being the perfect place for me.
I was accepted into the BFA program with a focus in music. I auditioned for and was accepted into the Jazz Workshop, which was a program consisting of 3 hours of theory/materials, 3 hours of supervised jazz ensemble and 3 hours of unsupervised jazz ensemble each week. The school did not offer private lessons at that time, but we did have instrument specific masterclasses a few times each semester. It was an ideal program for me in that it taught me to be self directed and self motivated in my own education. It really harvested that part of me that is a seeker of knowledge. I thrived in this environment, asking questions and fostering relationships with all of my professors. I picked everyone's brain, went to hear all of my professors perform and in my third and fourth years, I even hired a few of my professors to perform with me. One of the most exciting experiences of my life was when I put together a show with saxophonist Mike Murley. We had a sold out concert in the Mac Pub at York, which was an education unto itself.
York University afforded me the chance to scratch my itch of intellectual curiosity. I took humanities and social science courses. I took film theory. I was granted a top notch education in ethnomusicology and had the privilege of taking Jazz History and Latin American and Caribbean music with Bob Witmer. In my final year I was permitted to do an independent study in Stride Piano with the amazing boogie woogie/stride pianist Bill Westcott. My brain was twisted and stretched in John Gittins' Jazz Workshop, where I was taught the language of jazz harmony.
At York I learned how to learn. I learned how to ask questions and I learned how to go about answering them. I performed constantly, hosting a weekly jam session in the Mac Pub, where other York students were able to get together and work out our jazz chops. The school was very generous with opportunities for me. I performed for events and private parties and was awarded the coveted Oscar Peterson Scholarship two years in a row. I loved York and York supported me back.
I still can't believe that eleven years have passed since I graduated. It blows my mind when I think about it! It was a thrill to be back at my alma mater to see the changes. We have both grown so much in eleven years.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
June 2nd, 2009 - The glamorous life of a jazz artist
People frequently ask me what it's like to live the "glamorous" life of a jazz musician. That always makes me chuckle, as there is very little that is glamorous about my life. Yes, I do put on fancy clothes. Yes, I occasionally get my photo taken. Yes, people to write articles about me and my music gets played on the radio. Yes, I get to meet and play with legendary jazz artists like Wycliffe Gordon and Benny Powell.
Alas, that is only about 10% of the time. Of the other 90% of the time, I think I spend about 30% doing business - press releases, booking, publicity, website updates, etc. I spend 30% of my time teaching and preparing materials and about 30% of my time actually creating music - writing, practicing, etc.
What I love about being a freelance artist is that I am literally "free" to pursue the work that I am interested in pursuing, although I also try to be mindful of actually putting food on the table. But I am usually Sorry to ruin the image of the jazz diva lounging around in an evening gown smoking cigarettes and sipping scotch. It's more like an overworked woman in jeans and flip flops with glasses on and hair in ponytail warming up her coffee in the microwave for the third time.
So much for my glamorous life, eh?
Alas, that is only about 10% of the time. Of the other 90% of the time, I think I spend about 30% doing business - press releases, booking, publicity, website updates, etc. I spend 30% of my time teaching and preparing materials and about 30% of my time actually creating music - writing, practicing, etc.
What I love about being a freelance artist is that I am literally "free" to pursue the work that I am interested in pursuing, although I also try to be mindful of actually putting food on the table. But I am usually Sorry to ruin the image of the jazz diva lounging around in an evening gown smoking cigarettes and sipping scotch. It's more like an overworked woman in jeans and flip flops with glasses on and hair in ponytail warming up her coffee in the microwave for the third time.
So much for my glamorous life, eh?
June 8th, 2009 - Babys first...PIPE ORGAN?!?!
As many of you know, I am the music director of Trinity Episcopal Church in Cliffside Park, NJ. This is a gig that I initially took because my friend was the cantor there and we wanted to have fun and make music together. It has turned into one of the most fascinating journeys of my life.
I was raised in Dunlop United Church in Sarnia, Ontario - a small, family-oriented parish where my father was actively involved in the Vestry. We were a very low key church - no incense, no pomp or circumstance, etc.
Contrast this to Trinity - where we do "high church" and a full Eucharist every Sunday. In all my years of church attendance (although it was quite rare in my adult life), I had never participated in a Catholic mass. There was a huge learning curve and I frequently forgot to play the Alleluia before the reading of the gospel and other such "mass"-ive faux pas. (pun intended)
For the last three years, as a substitute organist and now as the Music Director, I have played the piano and electric keyboard that has organ sounds. The church has a beautiful Muller organ that had fallen into extreme disrepair after years of neglect. I nicknamed the organ the "Death Star", as it was not yet fully operational. Dave Schumach, our brilliant organ repairman managed to get it to playable condition in March. Great news!! Except...I DON'T PLAY ORGAN.
I went to Thomas Schmidt, the music director at St. Peter's Lutheran (also known as the "Jazz Church") In ignorance/arrogance, I figured he'd be able to get me playing the organ in one 1 hour lesson. Once he took me on a tour of St. Peter's organ, I realized that I was in deep trouble. Organ is WAY harder than I thought it was going to be.
After that lesson, I spent a few hours a week practicing at Trinity with my "Organist's Manual" open to the easiest sections. It took FOREVER just to get my feet moving at all. I pressed on.
Fast forward to Easter Sunday, where I got to the church at 7am so I could cram for the service. I played "Jesus Christ Is Risen Today" about 100 times, with my clumsy feet tripping over the pedals like a drunken white guy at his cousin's wedding. The congregation was very kind after the service.
Since then, I have been playing every Sunday morning. I practice for an hour before the service, doing a quick warmup and them jumping right into the hymns. For the last two months I have been playing only with my right hand and my feet. I just couldn't get my left hand in on the action. Until yesterday.
Yesterday morning I was finally able to get the left hand in on the action. It was miraculous. Hymns are arranged in four parts closed score, which means that the right hand plays the soprano and alto parts, the left hand plays the tenor and the feet play the bass. My organ renditions have been completely tenor-less until yesterday, when I finally felt ready to give it a go. Once the service was over, I got more compliments than ever before from the congregation, Willie the priest and Nathan the cantor. it was a Christmas miracle, taking place in the middle of Pentecost.
Why would a jazz pianist/singer want to learn the pipe organ? What would be the point?
I have long given up hope of ever climbing Mount Everest, or swimming the English Channel. It is unlikely that I will ever win an Olympic gold or place in the top five at Wimbledom. Sports and such are not my thing. Music is.
The organ is the instrument that Bach played. Church music is the source of nearly all Western music, including all theory as we know it. The organ is my Everest. When I'm up in the loft, trying to sort out my limbs and I make this joyful noise (it's really friggin loud), I feel somehow closer to God. It's hard not to have a spiritual moment when I'm blasting away on Holy! Holy! Holy! I also feel like anything is possible when I am up there. I am serving my congregation, I am serving the Spirit and I am learning once again that I can do anything I set my mind to. I am also learning to be patient, as it has taken me months of work to be able to get through a few simple hymns.
So, I continue. My congregation is thrilled, and I overlook the odd comment made about the clunky boots that I have to wear when I play. I bet you I'm the only church organist around who wears sundresses and pencil skirts to hammer out the hymns on Sunday morning. Who said the organ wasn't sexy?
I was raised in Dunlop United Church in Sarnia, Ontario - a small, family-oriented parish where my father was actively involved in the Vestry. We were a very low key church - no incense, no pomp or circumstance, etc.
Contrast this to Trinity - where we do "high church" and a full Eucharist every Sunday. In all my years of church attendance (although it was quite rare in my adult life), I had never participated in a Catholic mass. There was a huge learning curve and I frequently forgot to play the Alleluia before the reading of the gospel and other such "mass"-ive faux pas. (pun intended)
For the last three years, as a substitute organist and now as the Music Director, I have played the piano and electric keyboard that has organ sounds. The church has a beautiful Muller organ that had fallen into extreme disrepair after years of neglect. I nicknamed the organ the "Death Star", as it was not yet fully operational. Dave Schumach, our brilliant organ repairman managed to get it to playable condition in March. Great news!! Except...I DON'T PLAY ORGAN.
I went to Thomas Schmidt, the music director at St. Peter's Lutheran (also known as the "Jazz Church") In ignorance/arrogance, I figured he'd be able to get me playing the organ in one 1 hour lesson. Once he took me on a tour of St. Peter's organ, I realized that I was in deep trouble. Organ is WAY harder than I thought it was going to be.
After that lesson, I spent a few hours a week practicing at Trinity with my "Organist's Manual" open to the easiest sections. It took FOREVER just to get my feet moving at all. I pressed on.
Fast forward to Easter Sunday, where I got to the church at 7am so I could cram for the service. I played "Jesus Christ Is Risen Today" about 100 times, with my clumsy feet tripping over the pedals like a drunken white guy at his cousin's wedding. The congregation was very kind after the service.
Since then, I have been playing every Sunday morning. I practice for an hour before the service, doing a quick warmup and them jumping right into the hymns. For the last two months I have been playing only with my right hand and my feet. I just couldn't get my left hand in on the action. Until yesterday.
Yesterday morning I was finally able to get the left hand in on the action. It was miraculous. Hymns are arranged in four parts closed score, which means that the right hand plays the soprano and alto parts, the left hand plays the tenor and the feet play the bass. My organ renditions have been completely tenor-less until yesterday, when I finally felt ready to give it a go. Once the service was over, I got more compliments than ever before from the congregation, Willie the priest and Nathan the cantor. it was a Christmas miracle, taking place in the middle of Pentecost.
Why would a jazz pianist/singer want to learn the pipe organ? What would be the point?
I have long given up hope of ever climbing Mount Everest, or swimming the English Channel. It is unlikely that I will ever win an Olympic gold or place in the top five at Wimbledom. Sports and such are not my thing. Music is.
The organ is the instrument that Bach played. Church music is the source of nearly all Western music, including all theory as we know it. The organ is my Everest. When I'm up in the loft, trying to sort out my limbs and I make this joyful noise (it's really friggin loud), I feel somehow closer to God. It's hard not to have a spiritual moment when I'm blasting away on Holy! Holy! Holy! I also feel like anything is possible when I am up there. I am serving my congregation, I am serving the Spirit and I am learning once again that I can do anything I set my mind to. I am also learning to be patient, as it has taken me months of work to be able to get through a few simple hymns.
So, I continue. My congregation is thrilled, and I overlook the odd comment made about the clunky boots that I have to wear when I play. I bet you I'm the only church organist around who wears sundresses and pencil skirts to hammer out the hymns on Sunday morning. Who said the organ wasn't sexy?
June 15, 2009 - Jazz hands, people
Many of you know about my deep affinity for choral music. I don't know when it happened, but I fell madly in love with it and can't get enough of it.
In 2004, I was offered a gig at the Hartwick Summer Music Festival (now called the New York Summer Music Festival). I was only 27 years old and had just finished my Master's degree at MSM. I had no idea what to expect. In addition to teaching private lessons, running a combo, playing with guest artists and playing in the big band, I was expected to run a vocal jazz ensemble. Vocal Jazz Ensemble?!?!
I immediately called upon my singer friends who gave me scores of jazz choir music and most of it was really corny and cheesy. "Do ba do wee?" "Badalabado DAY?" Oh dear. I didn't think I could conduct any of that with a straight face, so I did what any self respecting woman with no previous experience in composing vocal music would do. I wrote my own.
The first few charts I wrote were pretty intense. The harmonies were really dense, the ranges were a bit extreme (I am still apologizing to the poor tenors) and the music would have been EASY for instrumentalists to play. Singers, on the other hand, YIKES. I was blessed with eager students who worked hard and had MANY sectional rehearsals so that they could pull off what I was putting in front of them. I am still amazed that those first groups were able to perform those nearly impossible charts! (You know who you are.)
That was six summers ago. (And magically, I am still only 27...) Since then I have spent a great deal of my creative life composing and arranging music for voices. My Sacred Voices Project - music for four voices and jazz quartet will be recorded at the end of the summer, and I have done commissions for a variety of choirs in the US and Canada.
And here I am six years later writing 10 more charts for this summer's festival. I have been thinking and planning all year, trying to put together the perfect program for each two week session, which will showcase the talent in the group without killing us all in the rehearsal process. As always, I still have a lot of writing to finish before D-Day (the first day), but I think this year is going to be the best yet. And yes, I do say that every year.
In 2004, I was offered a gig at the Hartwick Summer Music Festival (now called the New York Summer Music Festival). I was only 27 years old and had just finished my Master's degree at MSM. I had no idea what to expect. In addition to teaching private lessons, running a combo, playing with guest artists and playing in the big band, I was expected to run a vocal jazz ensemble. Vocal Jazz Ensemble?!?!
I immediately called upon my singer friends who gave me scores of jazz choir music and most of it was really corny and cheesy. "Do ba do wee?" "Badalabado DAY?" Oh dear. I didn't think I could conduct any of that with a straight face, so I did what any self respecting woman with no previous experience in composing vocal music would do. I wrote my own.
The first few charts I wrote were pretty intense. The harmonies were really dense, the ranges were a bit extreme (I am still apologizing to the poor tenors) and the music would have been EASY for instrumentalists to play. Singers, on the other hand, YIKES. I was blessed with eager students who worked hard and had MANY sectional rehearsals so that they could pull off what I was putting in front of them. I am still amazed that those first groups were able to perform those nearly impossible charts! (You know who you are.)
That was six summers ago. (And magically, I am still only 27...) Since then I have spent a great deal of my creative life composing and arranging music for voices. My Sacred Voices Project - music for four voices and jazz quartet will be recorded at the end of the summer, and I have done commissions for a variety of choirs in the US and Canada.
And here I am six years later writing 10 more charts for this summer's festival. I have been thinking and planning all year, trying to put together the perfect program for each two week session, which will showcase the talent in the group without killing us all in the rehearsal process. As always, I still have a lot of writing to finish before D-Day (the first day), but I think this year is going to be the best yet. And yes, I do say that every year.
September 24th, 2009 - The early days in New York
Moving to New York has always been a dream of mine since I first discovered jazz at age fifteen. My idea of what New York City life was about consisted of living in the Village in a loft and going to late night jam sessions. Success was measured in the frequency with which I played with the "heavies" - maybe Ron Carter or Elvin Jones.
I first moved to New York in 2001 with a fresh load of cash I saved from a winter's worth of pianobar work on a cruise ship. I initially moved to brooklyn and fled after a bizarre incident with a roommate, which is a story for another time. My cousin Karin, a well known visual artist, graciously offered to let me rent her second bedroom on the Lower Eastside. I rented a keyboard and set up an amazing jazz-centered experience. I took voice and piano lessons, practiced 8 hours a day, heard live music almost every night and camped out at the late night jam session at Smalls.
This was an incredible time of rediscovery for me, a jazz obsessive who had taken a six month hiatus from her addiction to all things Bud Powell, in exchange for a paycheck. Six months of Pianoman and Crocodile Rock had taken their toll on my jazz persona and I was ready to move back to my music of origin. I arrived in NYC in early spring with the dream of becoming a jazz musician once again.
My schedule was set in stone: 9am wakeup and chat with artist cousing. 10am practice, taking a short break to watch the last 30 minutes of the Young and the Restless. 5pm I would stop practicing and head to a 5:30 yoga class at a Hare Krishna temple at 1st Ave and 1st Street. I frequently had dinner with my cousin and then was out every night hearing music.
When I look back, those days were pure bliss. I had no responsibilities and since I was new in a big city, I was completely anonymous. With a sharper pair of glasses, I can remember how intense the entire experience was. I had some vocal issues at that time, due to overuse on all those months on the cruise ship and I was working hard with my voice teacher to overcome them. It was very scary.
I also remember feeling so far behind the other musicians my age, who I was hearing night after night at clubs in the Village. I thought I would never get "there", wherever "there" was. I practiced long and hard, so that I could fully internalize everything that I was learning from my piano teacher Garry Dial. I learned songs, transcribed solos and started composing material that didn't sound so "standard".
Interestingly enough, the early New York influence is really reflected on my 2002 CD "All She Needs". Half of the CD was recorded pre-New York and half of it was recorded post-New York. Change was happening to my playing and to my life as a whole.
That was eight years ago. I have been in New York ever since and I am amazed by how different my life and my life in music is. I moved through a lot of the insecurities and compulsions of music and have managed to carve a niche out for myself that I find challenging and engaging. I am in such a different place than I was less than a decade ago.
There are times where I wish I could reach out to that younger woman and tell her that everything is going to work out and that she shouldn't be so afraid. I also share with my students how crucial it is to enjoy the journey. The journey is all there is.
I first moved to New York in 2001 with a fresh load of cash I saved from a winter's worth of pianobar work on a cruise ship. I initially moved to brooklyn and fled after a bizarre incident with a roommate, which is a story for another time. My cousin Karin, a well known visual artist, graciously offered to let me rent her second bedroom on the Lower Eastside. I rented a keyboard and set up an amazing jazz-centered experience. I took voice and piano lessons, practiced 8 hours a day, heard live music almost every night and camped out at the late night jam session at Smalls.
This was an incredible time of rediscovery for me, a jazz obsessive who had taken a six month hiatus from her addiction to all things Bud Powell, in exchange for a paycheck. Six months of Pianoman and Crocodile Rock had taken their toll on my jazz persona and I was ready to move back to my music of origin. I arrived in NYC in early spring with the dream of becoming a jazz musician once again.
My schedule was set in stone: 9am wakeup and chat with artist cousing. 10am practice, taking a short break to watch the last 30 minutes of the Young and the Restless. 5pm I would stop practicing and head to a 5:30 yoga class at a Hare Krishna temple at 1st Ave and 1st Street. I frequently had dinner with my cousin and then was out every night hearing music.
When I look back, those days were pure bliss. I had no responsibilities and since I was new in a big city, I was completely anonymous. With a sharper pair of glasses, I can remember how intense the entire experience was. I had some vocal issues at that time, due to overuse on all those months on the cruise ship and I was working hard with my voice teacher to overcome them. It was very scary.
I also remember feeling so far behind the other musicians my age, who I was hearing night after night at clubs in the Village. I thought I would never get "there", wherever "there" was. I practiced long and hard, so that I could fully internalize everything that I was learning from my piano teacher Garry Dial. I learned songs, transcribed solos and started composing material that didn't sound so "standard".
Interestingly enough, the early New York influence is really reflected on my 2002 CD "All She Needs". Half of the CD was recorded pre-New York and half of it was recorded post-New York. Change was happening to my playing and to my life as a whole.
That was eight years ago. I have been in New York ever since and I am amazed by how different my life and my life in music is. I moved through a lot of the insecurities and compulsions of music and have managed to carve a niche out for myself that I find challenging and engaging. I am in such a different place than I was less than a decade ago.
There are times where I wish I could reach out to that younger woman and tell her that everything is going to work out and that she shouldn't be so afraid. I also share with my students how crucial it is to enjoy the journey. The journey is all there is.
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