Of Musicals and Voice Over Auditions...

I just got back from my second musical in as many nights.  Last night, I saw the dress rehearsal of a musical that my girlfriend helped out with on costumes called "Life on the Mississippi," based on the book by Mark Twain.  A small theater and a small cast, it was quite a good show, the story centering on Samuel Clemens and the period of his life when he aspired to be a steamboat man.  Tonight, I just got back from Porgy and Bess at the Richard Rodgers Theater on 46th Street.  Starring Audra McDonald, Norm Lewis and David Alan Grier.  Yes, I said David Alan Grier of In Living Color fame.  The cast was amazing and it was such a treat to see the show and hear the rest of Gershwin's score.  All I had ever heard of that show before was, of course, the song "Summertime."  My general manager at NY1 has a sister who does a lot of art directing on and off Broadway and so we got free tickets to the show plus a cast Q&A at the end.

After I left, I wandered through Times Square, past Spiderman and the Naked Cowboy, back to the subway thinking about the amazing things that have happened since I moved here and how I remain in love with this city.  I'm in the midst of trying to compose a guest blog entry for my cousin who lives in Germany now on the subject of why I moved to NY.  I was going to write it in a single sit down but the process of typing the first few paragraphs got me thinking about checking in with the dream I had about 6 years ago to make this happen.  What did I think of the city then and what do I now think of it having lived here for 3 1/2 years?  I saw it as an adventure waiting to happen and it may not have unfolded exactly as such and certainly not right away but it hasn't disappointed me. One would think that all that dreamy-eyed optimism would have been dulled down a little after that much time plugging away and dealing with the stress of city life. But, these days, if I ever catch myself getting downhearted, whether it's simply annoyance with daily life in the city, or all out negative thoughts about my chances of really succeeding at what I'm trying to do, all I have to do is open my eyes and look at the city around me. I'll inevitably catch something that makes me realize what I find in this city that makes me want to stay, regardless of how little return I see sometimes in terms of success at my career.  I look up and see things like this:

...the tribute in light for the anniversary of the September 11 attacks, that speaks to the majesty of such a pile of concrete and steel and the embodiment of the souls of all the people in this city and their ability to pull together in times of hardship...or I look up and see the lights of Times Square and all the bustle of the city around me and think what a strangely complex machine this city is, drawing in tourists to gawk at its splendor while it churns on relentlessly, its inhabitants minding their own f@#$ing business and trying to get on with their day...or I manage to find the time for two musicals in one week and remember what a culturally vibrant and magical city I live in, and all that pessimism washes away and I realize how lucky I am to just be here now, doing what I love doing.  Doing it at all.  Parts of me wish I was doing more of it but doing it all should be good enough really.   

It's all about perspective too, I've come to realize.  I didn't come here because I didn't think there'd be any hard knocks or because I thought it would be easy.  I came here because I had to.  Fundamentally, I don't think there's any reason for doing something unless it's challenging.  (Obviously, I'm not talking about every day things like cooking breakfast or taking a shower, I mean the big things like career and lifestyle choices).  It's the same drive that keeps me doing yoga five to six days a week.  I have to constantly challenge myself to grow and become better at the things I do and how am I going to do that if I back out of something because of a few missteps or pitfalls? 

Today was no different.  I woke up and scrambled to get one voice audition in before they closed it (as you remember I was frustrated because twice in one week, and once after my voice coach reviewed one of my auditions for me, an audition was closed before the deadline and my work was not submitted).  I made it.  Then I made it to yoga for the noon class and when I got back, I reworked my current voice demos, placing music under some of the spots I've done, and stitching together more of the work I'm proud of vs. the stuff from my original demo.  Then I submitted to four more voice auditions.  Cooked dinner and headed off to the theater...but not before shaving my beard and playing around with other facial hair options...

...before ultimately shaving it all off....I don't know though, I kind of like the mustache...I was laughing about how much I liked it.  Katrina said I looked like a scary hipster. 

But I digress...a productive day followed by some well deserved entertainment.  I'm doing well and I'm still enjoying the city...even if I haven't quite crested that hill yet and become my own boss as a living and working composer/voice over artist.  But some day.  Meantime, I'm having a blast.  After 3 1/2 years, I can certainly say that my view of the city has changed.  In a way, that image I had of the city before I moved here has not been tarnished at all...in fact, I'd say it's been polished. And I'm able to see more in it than I ever did before.  

Cousins...

I don't have any pictures yet but the visit with Cousin Kelley and her husband Brice was pretty fun.  Of course, yours truly had to work through most of it but I did get to spend a little time playing tour guide, mostly this afternoon.  

Yesterday, we managed to get up to the Highline Park together during my break, after they spent most of the morning and afternoon in Central Park and then midtown checking out window displays.  When I left work later that night, we all met at 5 Napkin Burger, one of the best burger joints in NYC in my humble opinion.  I discovered that they have gluten free buns there too so I was psyched to safely devour a nice greasy burger, smothered in aioli mayonnaise, caramelized onions and gruyere cheese.   Unfortunately, later in the evening I accidentally broke my gluten free streak by inadvertently sipping Katrina's beer at Heartland Brewery while she was in the bathroom.  Oops!  I laughed it off.  Shit happens!

Today, after they went to the MET we all converged on Carnegie to see the American Symphony Orchestra.  Katrina was working the concert so she got us all free tickets.  Orchestra seats with a clear view of the pianist's hands!  We didn't stay to hear Liszt's Faust Symphony but we did enjoy a piano concerto by Busoni.  Both pieces were around an hour long so we opted not to stay past intermission so they could pack in some more sight seeing.

I knew that Brice was keen on getting some decent pizza in and seeing the World Trade Center.  So, I figured I would take them to the Village and see about either Risotteria if we had time or Joe's if we didn't.  At 6:30 they needed to be at the Minskoff Theater for The Lion King.  Which got me thinking…dinner first? Or should we head straight on to Chambers Street?  Despite not having eaten since breakfast they chose WTC first.

It was the perfect time of day to be down there, too, with the sunlight fading and illuminating the glass of the buildings a pinkish-orange hue.  After circling the site, passing Zucotti park which was mostly empty save for some police officers and barriers and one guy shouting about Tylenol, we wound down to Greenwich street trying to get a closer look at the Memorial Site.  Right next to this mural, was a man engaging all the passersby with anecdotes and historical facts about the site and the attacks, showing them his photo album from the WTC site.  He was a wealth of info so we listened in for a bit until he mentioned the Sphere, a sculpture that used to sit in the plaza of the old World Trade Center that was salvaged after the attacks.  The sculpture now sits in Battery Park, a short walk away from where we were.  I suggested we go see it and we managed to arrive in Battery Park city, a few blocks south, just as the sun was setting over the harbor.  So that was nice timing.  After viewing the sculpture and then snapping a few pictures at the water's edge, we headed back to the Village, hoping to have time to sit down and eat some pizza at Risotteria before they had to head up to midtown for their show.

Luckily, Risotteria was able to seat us right away and we had plenty of time to enjoy our meal.  We even had time to snag Brice a cannoli at Rocco's Pastry shop on Bleeker Street.  On top of that, while standing outside scanning for a cab they got to experience a little slice of New York when a police car turned a corner in front of us, trying to break through the traffic on Bleeker.  Getting on the loudspeaker, the officer instructed the car in front of him to pull to the right so he could slide through in the bike lane.  When the driver of the car instead opted to try and pull up on the curb on the left side of the street, the officer said, "Okay, pal, maybe in your country!"

So we got a good laugh about that.  Then, I took them over to Carmine Street to give a little lesson in hailing a cab and sent them on their way to the musical.  And of course, I went home and tried to sleep it all off before the overnight…where I now sit typing this blog entry.  

Tonight, I'm going to be working on a theme for George's pilot episode of "The Life."  More on that as it unfolds.  There's no real deadline for this but I'm working on a driving rock song to accompany the mood of that series he's hoping to develop.  On top of that, I'm working on an accordion driven piece for Mohammad's film reel, talking with my new friend Steve, the cinematographer from Sides of the Track about scoring his film reel and potentially collaborating with Chad, a co worker of mine who is the D.P. for "The Life" on some small side projects.  So, there's a lot of opportunity coming up in the next few weeks to months.  Tania and I will be performing again on the 26th of this month at the Cornelia Street Cafe in the Village and I'll be sure to let you all know about that.  So long for now!  Gotta get to work!

September 11th

Today felt like a day off…and that was my intention.  Karishma and I decided semi-last minute to go to Governor's Island.  Lately, I haven't done enough of that kind of thing.  We both sort of lamented the passing of summer and how we didn't manage to do half of the fun things we wanted to.  One of my big things was sailing.  Seeing the sailboats all over the harbor as we sat on the south end of Governor's Island kept reminding me of that.  Oh well.  There's always next summer.

I'd just like to say that Governor's Island is fun.  Not for the events or the art installations or the biking or all the other things you hear about that are meant to attract you to the island.  No, what I'm talking about is the sense of history in the old buildings and the fact that, for the most part, you can just wander at will wondering what all these places were for.  Of course, I've been meaning to actually read up on the history of the island more but it's much more fun to just stumble on it all not knowing anything about it.

We came upon Fort Jay, on the north side of the island, and with no one around on such a dreary day, it was a little spooky.  On the south end of the fort, beyond a dry moat was a large black door in the wall.  Sneaking up to it, we pushed on it only to find it was chained on the inside.  But as I pushed further the chain slid completely out of the latch and the door opened enough for us to slide in.  Feeling a little mischievous and a little unsure of ourselves we wandered up a short tunnel that led into a courtyard surrounded by what looked like houses.  We were most certainly okay to be up there but the chained door and the lack of other people sure made us feel like we were up to no good.  So for good measure, I actually jumped up on the highest part of the defensive wall behind the houses to get a good look around.  It was at this point that I saw the trapese down in the field below.  Yes, the New York Trapese School has some of its classes here in the summer time.  Later on when we walked down in the field and approached their setup, I started to get some ideas in my head.  This might be my next thing.  :)

Continuing on, with Karishma getting nervous about my adventurousness, we walked along the wall for a bit until we came upon some vines wrapped around a fence which blocked us from getting anywhere near the canons up on the highest part of the wall.  Closer inspection revealed them to be grape vines...which were in fruit.  So you can bet I tried some.  The Lower Manhattan skyline loomed over the embankment reminding us that even despite being so isolated, we were still in the city. 

Today was September 11th and I manged to miss the barrage of coverage I would have taken part in had I worked during the day.  Instead, I got to be out and about on this day.  Some of my friends back home would say things like "be extra careful this weekend!"  But I shall be no more careful than I usually am.  If we live in fear the terrorists have won exactly what they were after.   Besides, no terrorist would plot something when everyone's expecting them to do something.  As Karishma and I lazed around on the south end of the island (hammocks are so nice!) we noticed a red helicopter and a military plane of some type circling the Statue of Liberty.  The harbor was full of police boats too strangely, all with their lights flashing.  Cops were set up at the entrances to the subway station at South Ferry.  So, I wasn't worried one bit.  Just another day in the city. 

I came into the city a little early before work and walked from Rector St. up to Chambers, taking a meandering course so I could glimpse the tribute in light up close.  Hauntingly beautiful and moving.  There were so many more people coursing through Lower Manhattan than usual.  I stumbled into a candlelight vigil or two and stopped for a bit to get a view of the new towers under construction.  You needed to have tickets to get into the memorial museum and I think they were only letting in family members of victims today.  I will go some time this week when it's open to the public. 

Tonight, though, I plan on pushing forward on the music for the trailer to Sides of the Track.  There's not much left to do.  Tomorrow, I'll meet Mohammad for the payment right before I head to Union Square for a Gluten Free Meetup I signed up for.  I'm pretty excited about that.  For now, I should get going.  Maybe some pics in the post eventually.   

Another way to say sleep...

Saturday night in New York City. Saturday, September 11th. Not much to say on the topic of memorial, just that I get emotional every time I read my sister's account of her day that day (in Arlington, VA) because I remember how stressful that was not knowing what was going on before the plane hit the pentagon. Surely, it can't compare to the experience of those who lost loved ones, or those who survived or witnessed the terror first hand. Nonetheless, that's my experience of it. And I do get emotional when I stop to really try and get a scope of the whole tragedy, how many people died, how sudden and unexpected it was and what a spectacular and horrific scene it was, especially in that it played out live on television to most of America.

I made it a point to try and glimpse the tribute in light out of the south facing window of the break room at NY 1 but, because of the angle from which I was viewing and the fog rolling in, I could only see what looked like one indistinct blur of light. The view from the Manhattan Bridge was no better, as the D train rides on the track that is on the north side of bridge so the rest of the bridge sort of blocks out some of the skyline. Last year, it was completely shrouded in cloud as I tried to view it from the hill in Sunset Park. Either way, I was reminded distinctly of the Bat Signal. After all, NYC is essentially Gotham.

In all serious, it was beautiful to behold, even on an eight inch TV monitor in the room where I work, with a reporter standing in the foreground.

Now, I contemplate sleep (let's face it, the trend these days for me to talk about sleep in my blogs probably stems from the fact that, right before bed, and as an antidote to sleeplessness, is the best time for me to write). Tomorrow is the first day singing with the choir at the Unitarian Church and I find myself chanting inside, I will write music for the choir, I will write music for the choir. And I intend to, in fact, I started to a few months back but I keep getting side-tracked. The notes are all still there from what I started and in fact, I just got inspired to offer up one of my piano pieces from the spring of '08. The unfinished ones. Ergo, this is incentive to actually finish one or more of those pieces. I found one that is a perfect candidate for a prelude or postlude for one of the services. It's currently called The Way We Dream and I have no idea where I got that title but it's a very catchy bit in a 7/8 meter (for those of you who don't know what that means, I'll try and explain it sometime). I wrote it on the piano when I first had it moved into the house in Greensboro where I lived during Grad School. I've always liked it and it's fun to play, it's just that the opening motive could be played so many different ways and I would just keep going with it until my mind would say, "okay, this should be doing something else by now."

The next question is, Am I going to perform it? Sheesh, I don't know. I haven't been confident in my playing in a long time. Which will sound silly since I have a degree in piano. It's certainly a consideration. But there's also a resident genius choral director/organist/pianist/multi-freakin'-instrumentalist in the house at the good ol' Brooklyn UU, if I can't get up the gumption to play my own piece. I'll surely have to run it by him first though anyway.

Either way, between that and the Bulgarian pianist, I may finally start to build up a little momentum here. Composing is hard enough but then when you factor in needing to do something else that is not music that takes up to 10 hours out of your day 5 days a week, commute included, just to to eat everyday, it can seem damn near impossible. Especially when I come home to a wreck of a room that is a wreck precisely because it is so small that there's nowhere to put any of the inevitable accumulation of mail, note paper and general detritus, so it all gets piled on top of piles until you have to do something about it before you can do anything productive at all!

I can see this is quickly becoming a rant, as evidenced by above run-on sentence, when it was meant to be a simple checking in and letting you know what's up. I guess I get frustrated when I juggle all these things just so I can be comfortable when comfortable doesn't afford me any creative stimulation. Nor does it afford me the time to let said creative stimulation manifest. So, I ask myself some days, when in the hell am I ever going to get my momentum back? I think about wanting to write music but I can barely find time to sit down and do it. I think about wanting to play with a band, too, and I realize that it's been so long since I've even plugged in my guitar amp (it certainly hasn't been connected to any outlets in this apartment that I've been in since March...that should give you some idea).

I have to remind myself though, on a regular basis, that I can't jump to the absolute, and that I actually have made headway in the past few months. And I'm doing just fine. I'm sure Beethoven's room was a horrible mess, too.

Anyway, I'd better go and do that thing I usually do right after finishing what I'm doing now.