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:
I spent about an hour updating my ethnomusicology resource list today. The general list is becoming quite large and I’m going to spend some time as soon as I can splitting it up into further categories. The regional list still needs some updating, and I’ll get to that soon.
One update I wanted to share is that I’m going to start keeping track of the current conferences and paper calls down at the bottom of that page – mostly for my own benefit, but hey if someone else can use it, I’m a happy nerd. I’m also considering a book resource list – but perhaps I’ll just link to my amazon account (hey, that’s a good idea)- okay – back to your regularly scheduled program…
I’ve decided I need to have more fun. I realize I no longer live in New Orleans, but it doesn’t mean I can’t live like I still do. Now what this means is that in general my life should include more spontaneity and nonsensical silliness. I’ve gotten into this rut of reading, sleeping, eating convenience foods, grading, prepping for classes, and letting my dogs pee. If I’m feeling rebellious, I’ll watch some Netflix. With that said, I do enjoy weekends here with friends. Usually by Friday afternoon at four you can see a gaggle of musicologists sniffing out the nearest bar to escape the secretive black velvet bag full of buzz words: hegemony, hermeneutics, all-things-cultural-theory, reflexivity, semiotics, etc. We do all manage to find our way home before Monday morning rolls around. I think though, that I’d like to begin interspersing a few pixels of fun into the still-shots of my Monday-Friday. It may help me feel less like a preacher’s-daughter-turned-loose by the time Friday comes around (okay that’s really kind of an exaggeration).
Excuse me for getting all dharma on you for a second here, but in Buddhist terms I’m aching to grasp onto the middle way. It was the first post-enlightenment sermon that the Buddha chose to give after stretching his legs out and having a few sips of water, no doubt. Based on a life of balancing the extremes, it seems appropriate here. I have the discipline to be rigid and academic all the time, but quite frankly I don’t want to. There’s always the possibility of losing yourself in it as the path is so clearly laid out. So, how do I laugh more between chapters? I’m not sure. Perhaps the acknowledgment of the necessity for it is a strong enough propulsion.
Now that I’ve vented a bit, I can discuss my past week. This semester has gone incredibly odd so far – picture letting the air out of a balloon and watching it zip around the air in all directions. I’m ready to take a deep breath and let the semester really begin. Last week, my productivity was extremely low on Wednesday and Friday. My partner travels for work quite frequently and she was out of town on a recruitment trip all week. I feel like this always impacts my world negatively (yes okay, I miss her when she’s gone and my anxiety tends to flair), and I’m not sure how to put a damper on that. Again, perhaps just the acknowledgment of it will stop it in its tracks.
I’m finally doing some deep breathing with regards to my schedule. I think I’ve got a handle on it. It just took some finagling to ensure I could plan and organize everything. Luckily, thanks to the ever-visible organizational OCD, I’m pretty good at that.
My last gripe of the day: Who decided to plan SEM-SEC’s (Society for Ethnomusicology – Southeast & Caribbean Chapter) Nashville meeting during our annual Rainbow (world music) Concert weekend (or vice versa)?