Mood Indigo

Apparently, in Brazil, we're going to be teaching small Brazilian children how to play jazz. This strikes me as interesting. In most of my travels, I'm going to a destination to soak up some aspect of a foreign culture. You go specific places to experience specific things, like ancient Rome or art or whatever. I suppose the band tour was a little different. But even in that case, we weren't sharing something completely distinct to our culture. Concert band music is surprisingly popular in Japan. In a sense, foreign travel is an action based upon you gaining something. You don't really consciously think about sharing anything. I mean, you don't want to be an ass to people or give them the wrong impression, but typically you aren't attempting to share any integral aspects of your culture.

I think that's one of the cool things about our trip to Brazil. Jazz is our music, it's our only truly original art form. The fact that not only do we get to play it for people, but also attempt to explain it, that's really cool. Moreso, it will be fun. People typically associate us with bombing middle eastern countries and driving cars the size of small trains. It may be nice to be remembered for sweet music instead.

It's somewhat late at night, J.J. is playing softly on my iPod. I spent practically the whole night sitting here. Well, that's not true, I did go practice my trombone and printed off my Thomas Paine paper. But after that, I just sort of sat. It actually makes me feel sort of foolish. I wish I had been doing something. I wish I would have made coffee or tea, done something at all, instead of always waiting for something to come to me. You'd think I'd have gotten the memo, not much usually comes to me. But I suppose, it could be worse. It's kind of the price you pay, having a small group of close friends as opposed to a large group of not so close friends. Sometimes you have to spend time alone. And that's alright every once in a while.

Going along with the theme, I've been listening to a lot of jazz lately. Partly because I'm getting excited for the tour, partly because I'm trying to immerse myself as I learn chord progressions, partly because I just forgot how much I love listening to it. Tony's History of Jazz class has been a lot more fun that I had expected, it's exposing me to so much more music. That's the overwhelming thing about being a music fan, there's always so much out there. An inconceivable amount. Taking a cue from a friend, I've recently started a list of music I'd like to acquire, preferably through purchase of a physical album. It has three categories: classical, jazz, and rock. Already it's at about a page and a half. If anyone has any suggestions for my list, please let me know. I'm especially low on the rock section, aside from Sigur Rós and the Beatles.

I'm listening to Duke Ellington and Coleman Hawkins play "Mood Indigo." This is probably what heaven is like. I just love the name: Mood Indigo. What an absolutely perfect use of the English language to describe something inherently indescribable. Fun fact, Duke Ellington was an amateur painter, which partly explains the use of color in his song titles. Black and Tan Fantasy, Black, Brown, and Beige, Mood Indigo, etc. Brilliant.

Hearing stuff like this, I can't help but just thank God for allowing humanity the privilege to hear such sublime beauty. I don't know, it's something I take for granted for sure. Be it Zepp, Dylan, Beethoven, Ellington, whatever. To be able to hear such artistry, sometimes its too much to bear. I wish I could do that. I can at least try though. I like trying.


As befits an evening time post, this has gotten quite introspective. Good thing I've moved on to Bill Evans. Wish me luck on my Tom Paine presentation, ask questions if you want a 15 minute lecture on eighteenth century cosmopolitanism.

Later folks.

Focusing, and then not

So tonight I decided to go to Focus, which is the student led worship on campus. I really don't know why I decided to go, I haven't gone all year. Two years ago, I used to go every once in a while. I don't know, I guess I just felt like hearing something comforting. I also have felt very guilty as of late, as I never go to any sort of religious service down here. I've never felt comfortable at them and frankly, I'm sort of lazy. I'd much rather stay in my comfort zone, or sleep in.

Thus, I went. And it was something, that's for sure. I'm always somewhat bemused by religious services and how people react to them. Last year in England, I wrote a paper on evangelicalism in the UK, and went to a couple evangelical churches in Nottingham to research. It was.... interesting. I think the presence of giant TV screens with preacher's faces are just a bit intimidating. It was kind of fun to have a full bar in the back of the sanctuary though, and I appreciated the free doughnuts (poor American college student, you know?). It did rather suck when I spilled my tea all over myself and the condiment table, but eh. Shit happens, even in God's house. Needless to say, I'm internationally experienced in odd religious expression.

Anyway, back to Focus. It's always interesting, the people who go to Focus. Mostly, it seems like a sea of tall blond males wearing Abercrombie with too much hair product and the accompanying hordes of sweatshirted women. Scattered about are also those who really have nothing else to do, or feel socially outcasted by secular society. Plus the few normal people, or folks like myself: strangers infiltrating a secret club. Now I'm not trying to discount the piety of said congregation. How would I know? But given outward appearances, sometimes I feel as if extreme outward participation in Focus or another campus ministry is just another check to add on the list of potentially attractive features. I don't know, some of it felt so.. fake. Like I was at a masquerade ball.

I think the part about contemporary worship that makes me feel uncomfortable is its overwhelming social interaction. I mean, I'm a fairly introspective person, so of course that will color my observation. But when I'm experiencing something spiritual, I guess I respond best in quiet, in solitude. Maybe that's why I loved the Church of England so much. Not so much for doctrine or anything like that, but for the fact that I could sit in the magnificent cathedrals, close my eyes, and just listen to the evensong. It was ethereally beautiful. Now, guitars can be ethereally beautiful too (Sigur Ros anyone?), but not how they're commonly played. Needless to say, I felt very out of place at what was essentially a gigantic social event with some Christian overtones.

Faith seems to me a funny thing, a very curious thing. It exists, but sometimes it feels like it doesn't exist. I guess that's the mark of true faith though, existing even while it feels like maybe it shouldn't exist. I don't know, if you would have told me what I would have become four years ago at this point, I would have probably laughed. Rejected you. Rejected AND denounced you. But life, as it turns out, has a funny way of doing things differently than how you expected. And it all turns out fairly alright. I may be doing some sort of spiritual limbo dance, but that's okay right now I think. There's something underneath all the madness.

In other current events, I'm getting quite tired of this damn overcast weather. I'll say it, I hate overcast days. If it's cloudy, it should be raining. Either be cloudy and raining, clear and sunny, or partly cloudy with no rain and sufficient sunlight. None of this in between shit. I have shorts to wear. Shorts, to show off my Hard Body Plan calves. Which will make beautiful women swoon and other men's self esteem to plummet. This weather is delaying that. I'm anticipating a campus teeming with the wails of insecure bros and lovestruck ladies.

My good friend just owned Liszt and Chopin on his senior recital last night. Cheers to that. (clink)

I get to play a solo on "Diminuendo and Crescendo in Blue" in Brazil. I'm super pumped. I got to jam with the band on Friday, and I actually did better than I expected. And I've been practicing the chord changes and listening extensively. Can't wait.

The Minnesota Twins and their ridiculously bad play are making me want to jump off a bridge in front of a French TGV train going 200 mph, which will smash me into tiny pieces, only to be eaten by vultures, buzzards, and other small scavenging animals. This needs to stop.

That is all.

Jazzy Photo Decor

Well, I got back from a short little jazz tour today. We were gone, what, two days? Yeah, two days. All in all, a fairly nice little jaunt, but pretty crappy placement. I had these delusions of grandeur, that I'd sit in the van and get all this work done on my Thomas Paine paper. So productive I thought. Then why am I sitting here droning on and on about Common Sense and I'm still only on page 5? Obviously not as productive as I had hoped.

We had one not so hot performance and one frekking sweet performance, Thursday and Friday nights respectively. The thing that is unique about jazz orchestra from any other Luther music group is the fact that we visibly have fun. We yell at each other. Laugh at each other. There's just so much smiling happiness around. I wonder if that's ever startling for the audience. Maybe at Luther it would be. So often, we seem to lose the meaning of the music. Perhaps this is a bit of prejudice coming out, but the choirs never look like they're enjoying themselves. Or maybe that's just part of the classical tradition: stoicism. Well, fuck that. In jazz, we have fun, and it's awesome. Most definitely we all play better when we're energized and enjoying ourselves. It's like a jolt of electricity. I don't know, it's like the groove frees you almost. I'm a fairly reserved guy, yet when I hear that groove, I just kind of get lost in it. I almost forget that there are people watching us. It's a cool feeling.

Almost every stop for jazz orchestra, Tony makes some crack about the Scandinavian makeup of our band and audience. We have people named Lars-Erik, Leif, etc, etc, etc. He then contrasts it with his own very Dominican heritage, but talks about how he's an Iowan at heart. He then refers to himself as "Tony Guzmansson." I don't know what it is, but I think that's the funniest damn thing I've ever heard. I lose it every single time he says it. Love it.

The flowers that my mom brought me for my recital are finally dead. Which is good and bad. The good news, they won't be taking up more room on my shelving unit/heater. The bad news, they were a nice (albeit temporary) addition.

Lately I've been thinking a lot about what people try to communicate through decor. Meaning, what is it about your surroundings that you use to try to give away aspects of your personality? I have this big poster of Bob Dylan in my room. It really is an amazing photo. It has Dylan, black glasses on, harmonica around his neck, looking curiously up. It's as if he's on the cusp of doing something so monumentally breathtaking and beautiful, you won't know how to react. An artist on the brink of creation. I have another poster of Led Zeppelin next to their tour plane, basically looking like badass rockstars. I have a bunch of Twins bobbleheads, yada, yada, yada. What do they all say? Who knows, but I think they represent something about me. People put stuff up for a reason.

Then comes the all important aspect of photos. Photos, photos everywhere. Why do people put out photos of their friends? Is it because they genuinely love these people and want to be reminded of them all the time? Or do they want them up so that when said friends come in the room, they will see said photo and say to themselves, "Hmm, that sure is nice." I don't know. I'd like to think it's the first option for me. But then what about the photos that aren't up? Because the ones that aren't up aren't up for a reason. When I was in high school, I never had any photos up of girls I liked, for fear that they would come over, see them, and think me a creeper. But then again, they never came over (kaching), so it probably wasn't as much of a problem as I had anticipated. I have plenty of photos, but instead of posting them publicly, I have them in a book in my desk. Are people scared? Embarassed? Lazy? I think I might be a bit of all three. I mean, there are somethings that you don't necessarily want to see everyday. Just every once in a while. Plus, men can only have so many photos up. Otherwise it's unmanly, and that definitely can't occur. I mean, shit, I have quite a few up, which is obviously why I'm still doing the hard body plan. I have to balance one aspect out with another. Right elements in the right proportion.

Right elements in the right proportion. That's the Greek ideal of beauty, you know. Just a fun fact.

This post has been relatively pointless, but I was sort of in the mood to write something other than how Thomas Paine was the leading advocate of worldwide republican revolution. Just for a bit, at least. Don't get me wrong, Tom's a great guy, but as in every healthy relationship, you have to have some time away.

Library Improvements

I'm sitting here in the bowels of Preus Library, at my usual spot next to the stacks on the British Empire. Feebly attempting to take notes on Tom Paine's Rights of Man. Often times I compare Luther's own to the Hallward Library at Notts Uni. Both have similarly unattractive architecture, boxy structures, reams of info, soul crushing study carrels, yada, yada, yada. But something is definitely missing here at Luther, and no, it's not that nifty little scanner turnstile thing or automatic doors. Not even the local feminist group or student government group trying to get me to vote directly outside. No, we need a cafe here at Luther.

I think the thing that made the Uni library so tolerable was the fact that there was a handy little cafe inside the building. You could go buy a cup of 90p coffee and hike up to the history stacks on the third floor and disappear. But at least you'd disappear with coffee, as opposed to here, where you would simply disappear. Granted, it was shitty Tschibo coffee, but sometimes you just take what you can get. Rumor has it that this year, the uni switched to Starbucks. At face value, this is absolutely brilliant (we all know my soft spot for the 'bucks). But apparently, students were outraged by the 40p increase in a coffee. Me? Small price to pay for quality.

Fortunately for Luther, I have the perfect solution to bring our library out of the dark ages: Build a rooftop tiki bar.

Think about it. The roof is perfectly flat, so there's a stable foundation for a tiki hut and some bar tables. We could get some torches, maybe even string some outdoor lights above the seating area. Some palm trees, sand, a volleyball net. Voila, instant Caribbean fun. The Jazz Orchestra could be the resident dance band, we could play every Friday and Saturday night for tips. Once again, plenty of room on that flat roof for some sensuous Latin footwork. Long day working on your senior paper or researching Tom Paine? Just take a break, go up to the roof and have a beer with lime. We could have margaritas and tropical drinks too, hell, a full bar. Tortilla chips and salsa, tacos, all sorts of stuff. All those unfortunate to be minors could have kiddie cocktails or Sprite.

Maybe there will be a check in point where you'd be required to change into appropriately tropical attire. Maybe a sign that says something to the effect of "No Shirt? No Shoes? No Problem." The library would be the coolest place on campus almost overnight. People coming to the tiki bar would inevitably have to pass through the library, which would guilt them into doing homework before they got wasted. I don't see a problem here. Everyone wins. There's a place in the library for refreshments, Luther keeps more kids on campus, more people do homework, and the Jazz Orchestra finally gets some recognition.



Imagine this scene on the library roof. What's not to like?

Cold Rain

It rained today. Not just any rain, but that cold sort of rain that seems to pierce right down to your bones. Making you innately cold. Cold, horizontal rain, which means your pants get completely soaked. And let me tell you, there is nothing more uncomfortable than enduring class with wet jeans. They just stick to your body, weighing you down, making you feel terrible. Unpleasant.

It reminded me of the cold, shitty rain that I used to hide under in the shelter to catch the 77 downtown. I remember how I'd wait, bundled up in my blue jacket, constantly checking my watch against the timetable, searching for any glimpse of that turquoise bus coming down from Strelley. I'd always fiddle around with my bus card or the £1.30 fare. I'd get on the bus, immediately run to the top deck, and grab the front seat if I could. Some of my most vivid memories, strangely enough, come from me riding down Alfreton Road in the rain on that damn bus, going downtown for some reason or another. Past the fish and chip shops, the kebab stands, the nasty hair salons. Around Canning Circus, past the playhouse and finally downtown on Maid Marion Way. Then there was always the exciting run through the rain, messenger bag in tow. Usually I was running to Starbucks or a pub, but sometimes I ran to nowhere in particular. Maybe a stop in the hobby shop where I'd peruse the Star Wars toys, or a duck into the Virgin store to look at CD's. It didn't really matter, just anywhere to waste some time and get out of the rain.

The worst was having to bike home after baseball practice. I don't think I've ever been so wet in my life. Combined with the grass stains and mud all over my clothes, it was pretty nasty. But there was a sort of defiant pride in it as well. Of course, I knew I was probably going to catch pneumonia. But I didn't really care. I was doing something I enjoyed. And as I piloted that stupid 3 gear bike through the passenger crossings and roundabouts, in the back of my mind I thought that it was maybe just stupid enough to tell as a story someday. Guess that day has come.

I miss England. Or maybe I miss the community of England, that community unique to last year. Who knows. It's a shame I can't have it both ways, and take parts of here to there.

In a public service announcement, all who are able should consider attending Saturday's Jazz Orchestra concert at 7:00 PM and Concert Band on Sunday at 4:00. Both will be outstanding concerts. Please come to the jazz one especially if you are able. Jazz at Luther gets the shaft practically every other second, and here is an opportunity to hear some jazz played by what is a really fine ensemble. Plus we look freaking awesome in our cream tuxedos. Plus we're playing Ellington's "Diminuendo and Crescendo in Blue," which will blow your minds outside your body.

Day After

Well, my recital last night went very well. Extremely well. I can legitimately say I am very proud of how I played. And something which I didn't expect happened. Usually, I get extremely nervous when I play in front of people. I expected it to be even worse last night, especially since there were so many people there. But as I prepared to go onstage, a strange calm overcame me. It was almost like an out of body experience. I walked onstage, and although I was aware of the people, I was zoned in on the music and my own playing. It was a good feeling, especially when I played well. People really seemed to enjoy the Lars-Erik Larsson Concertino. That was especially meaningful to me, as it was extremely challenging and I worked my ass off on it. And to play it cleanly and beautifully, well, that was nice.

It's just really nice to have this sense of accomplishment.

Recital

Tonight, I'm giving a senior trombone recital here at Luther. I am playing music which is by far the most challenging I have ever undertaken, and it is the biggest stage I will ever have taken as a solo performer. But you know, I'm not really that nervous. I'm sure jitters will appear as it gets closer to showtime, but for the first time in my musical career I think, I feel pretty damn confident about what I'm going to do and how I'm going to do it. I feel good in my musicianship, in my ability to convey some sort of meaning to the audience through an artistic medium. In general, I feel good. I know I can play this stuff, and play it well. Real well. I just have to go do it.

The whole process of preparing has definitely made me think about the role of music in my life, and this sort of calm before the storm has made me even more reflective. Music has been such a huge part of my life at Luther, that it's sort of hard to take a step back and look at it as this single thing. It's just so intertwined. The funny thing is, I'm not even a music major. I am under no obligation to do any of the things I choose to do musically here. I don't have to practice. I don't even have to give a recital. I'm doing this tonight because I enjoy playing the trombone. I enjoy it so much that I want to share it with others. And that has led me to some realizations.

1) I want music to continue to be in my life after I graduate. I loathe to think what life is going to be like without ensembles every day, or having musical friends, or not being surrounded by music.

2) Sometimes I wonder if music isn't my life's calling. I know that I'm going to law school and all that jazz, and I do think I'll enjoy that too, especially if it allows me to get out into the world. But also, I think I would equally like studying musicology, or teaching it. I don't know. (I'm still going to law school though, at least for a year)

Anyways, all these musings inspired me to dig up some photos on my computer which illustrate part of my musical journey here at Luther. From an overmatched freshman three years ago, to an internationally known orchestral player last year, to my current status as one of the old guard of the Luther trombone studio, it's been quite a ride. One that hopefully won't quit.

Early Concern

I'm a bit concerned with the fact that over 3 games, the Twins have scored a total of 4 runs. Weren't the offseason acquisitions of Delmon Young, Mike Lamb, and Craig Monroe intended to bolster the already formidable lineup of Morneau, Mauer, and Cuddyer? Even when Nick Blackburn outpitches himself against a tough Angels lineup, we can't get on the board. This is a problem, and needs to be remedied if the Twins are to compete. Morneau needs to step it up.