When I jump on a new instrument for the first time, it feels how you’d expect: alien, not quite comfortable – maybe like I’d imagine a hip or knee replacement would feel at first. It’s my third week in African ensemble after a several year hiatus of playing (and building) African drums, and I’ve settled on the dunun as my axe for the semester – specifically, the samba. My spirit loves playing it. This past Monday, a “click” happened somewhere in the land of ambidexterity (left hand on bell, right hand on the head) and instead of following the instrument, I was leading it – (yes, I mean in a spiritual-hippie-granola-crunchy- kind of way). It felt natural and no longer alien – more of an extension of any inherent rhythm I might possess (I know it’s in there somewhere!). I felt its dance.
Along those same lines, in gamelan, we’re performing Baris – I chose an instrument that acts as an intermediary between the colotomic structure and the interlocking parts that exist at the highest densities. I wanted something technically “simple” this time so that I could actively listen to other parts and put it all together like a puzzle – you know, like you’re supposed to. I’ve been playing the gangsa polos part on other pieces which is too fast for me to think realistically about the multiple stratifications happening around me. Yesterday’s rehearsal (and my repetative 4-note cycle) became a meditative exercise for an hour or so – I found myself, after having the part on auto-pilot, paying close attention to the height of my hammer, my grip, the exact placement of the hammer strike on each slabbed key, the space my arm occupied in the air after each strike and whether I was in rhythm with the air itself, and how my body alignment felt in relation to the instrument – as if it were my spine.
In short, it was lovely. Afterwards, we switched to Puspanjali and I tested my spatial knowledge of the gangsa by trying to play sections with my eyes closed or glued to my professor’s hands on the kendang (drum). I had no trouble at all with the phrases that moved step-wise. Once it skipped two or more keys, I found myself striking the air between the slabs – it’s probably best for the ensemble’s sake that I stop intentionally trying to screw myself up. I do enough of that with my eyes open.
Regarding India, I’m at a standstill in my sitar purchase, or potential purchase. It scares me too much to spend $900+ on an instrument I’ve never touched without having its quality backed by a friend and not a salesman. Speaking of India, an hour ago I sat in a world music room with my “Music of India” class as we skyped with a Karnatik vocalist in Chennai – she taught us a song text and its corresponding tala, a few easier ragas, and workshopped ornamentation. I love technology.
In four hours or so I’m driving to New Orleans for the first time since I started this program and I’ll be there all weekend. I’m looking forward to seeing friends, eating, seeing some of my old students, and doing a bit of fieldwork. Saturday night I’m heading to see Sissy Bounce artist Big Freedia. I can’t wait to get home – some ethnographic notes to come! 🙂
I’m starting this week off exhausted, but completely caught up on things- it’s a good feeling. I can take a deep breath and jump into my work without tripping over myself, finally. Let’s see how long it lasts. The weekend was productive, also.
I transformed my bedroom into a ridiculous exotic essentialization of Indian culture. I spent an absurd amount of money at Borders Books– my irrational justification being an attempt to keep their doors open. My partner and I took the dogs on a long walk Sunday morning and found our own “secret garden” in our back yard- a high-banked trail that follows a narrow creek for miles.
I’ve decided the happiest moments in my dogs’ lives translate to my own. Zasha (my husky) is happiest traipsing through mud puddles, getting her white paws as dirty as possible. Spud (my pit) is happiest playing “king of the mountain”, climbing fallen logs as if they’re Vesuvius or walking along them in true gymnast-balance-beam fashion – held held high, smiling… the occasional slobber droplets that irrigate the tributary-esque cracks of the log.
My major assignments for the week were passed in early this morning. I have to finish some grading, and read a few books that relate directly to my work. With that, it should be a relatively mild week. I’m hoping to get some time to clean the house and perhaps finish unpacking (from August)… and, keeping my fingers crossed here, I’m hoping to get to New Orleans this weekend.
My friend Matt brought this to my attention. These folks are making physical sound sculptures, and it is such a brilliantly creative process – check it out:
I saw this video at SEM 2010, and have meant to post it since. There are some aspects of this organization I don’t necessarily align myself with ethically, however the video itself really well done. Got 5 minutes? Check it out: