The Passion

An exact quarter of my mom’s homemade lemon meringue pie.

That’s what I had for breakfast this morning. I haven’t eaten sweets since Tuesday, Feb. 5, and I had to make up for lost time.

Veteran readers and close friends all know that for the 40 days leading up to Easter, I observe Lent by abstaining from sweets. I’ve been doing this for years. I love the challenge, and feel detoxified from the Christmas gorging. Plus… there is just something about Lent.

No, I don’t really practice my Catholic upbringing any more. But I am certainly grateful for it, particularly the Lenten season.

It was during Lent that I experienced one of the most profound and influential musical experiences of my childhood which fueled and ignited my passion for music, and had a direct impact on the direction I would take music in my life.

When my father was stationed at Quantico, VA for the second time, I was in grades 3-7. This was the time in my life when we were most active in the church; my mom played guitar for the Saturday night masses, and I sang in the children’s choir which sang in the Children’s Masses (once a month I think). I’ve mentioned this before, but the director of the children’s choir and the Saturday night Folk Masses was named Carol Hayes. She had the most beautiful singing voice I had ever heard and in many ways I idolized her almost as much as Wonder Woman. Listening to her and my mom play every week definitely showed me how meaningful and fun music could be.

One year, the CYO (Catholic Youth Organization) staged a Living Stations of the Cross. Mrs. Hayes and my mom were involved in producing the music for this presentation which used only narration, silent acting, and music to tell the story behind each station. I remember sitting up in the choir loft with my mom, peering over the railing, and watching the tragic story unfold to the mournful melodies of the choir. I remember how eerie and shocking it was when the music cut out, heightening the drama as a boy portraying Jesus was nailed to the cross- the silence interrupted by the sounds of the hammer hitting the wood and the boy crying out sent bolts down my spine and still cause my stomach to flip when I think of it now. I had never at that point in my life been so moved or felt such passion as a result of music and drama. I was brought to tears, which I innocently let fall.

In the following years, I became more involved in the Living Stations, singing and later (after a move to Camp Lejeune, NC) directing the music. I remember searching for instrumental incidental music (as I now know it’s called) and settling on the soundtracks from Somewhere In Time and Bram Stoker’s Dracula (still two of my favorite scores). I remember cutting and cuing the tapes (yes, cassette tapes- this was the early 90s folks!) and fading the music in and out as I watched the action below with a hawk’s eye so that I could perfectly time the music for ultimate dramatic effect.

My 9th grade year was my last involvement in the Living Stations as a bad experience involving a youth retreat, the beach, and Zima severed our relations with that church. In the years since, my distance from the Catholic Church has grown considerably. But I am always brought back just a little at Lent. I have never forgotten the passion felt first as an observer and later as a participant in the Living Stations.

More importantly, I attribute those Living Stations experiences to my drive to tell stories and portray dramatic empathy through my compositions. It’s practically impossible for me to write anything if there is not a story, real or fictional inspiring it. I understand now that it is that same emotional reaction that I had to the Living Stations that I hope to create for my listeners and players.

Today on Easter Sunday, as I type away on the Amtrak heading back to NY, eating my mom’s homemade tea cookies to the envy of my seat partner, I marvel at the realization that my life’s goals may not have been cosmically predetermined, but rather a result of an isolated experience. And I can’t help but smile as I am again reminded that children do not always learn the lesson you are trying to impress upon them. I remember the Living Stations like I do my dreams- by the emotion felt during the telling. I do not remember what each of the stations is about, or even how many there are, but I will not forget the lesson of how music (or lack of) can be used to tell a story. And because of that experience, no matter how distant I find myself from the spiritual meaning of Easter, I will always be brought back, just a little, by the music.

On a side note...

Does anyone else using Blogger have problems with the html and image formatting? I find their interface extremely frustrating and unreliable. What I see in the compose view, and in the preview view, is never what I see when I publish the blog. I am always forced to edit the post over and over trying to get spacing, etc. correct. It seems to adjust on it's own when I hit the "publish" button.

Anyone else have this problem? Thoughts? Suggestions?

Mingus in the New Frontier

The last couple of weeks have been good comic weeks for me.

I'm back on board with Birds of Prey. I've always loved Black Alice and wished Gail had used her more. I'm finally warming to Misfit and am over the ridiculous robot destruction of Metropolis.

I am also surprisingly enjoying Teen Titans: Year One. Okay, maybe that's not surprising as I am a sucker for all Year One stories.

More accurate is the kick I got out of Tiny Titans. Maybe I've been teaching elementary school too long now, but I found the little tykes adorable and the light story lines refreshing.

I am also psyched about the return of The Gunslinger. I love Jae Lee and Richard Isanove's art and don't think I could have imagined Hambry or it's inhabitants any better. I loved reading the Dark Tower and book 4, though a slower read then the last 3, was one of my favorite of King's worlds. I haven't started The Long Road Home yet, but look forward immensely to it.

However... the highlight of the past few Midtown trips has by far been Justice League: The New Frontier.

I became a huge fan of JLTNF a couple years ago when a friend loaned me the original singles. I am currently saving up for the $75 Absolute HC edition.

I thoroughly enjoyed the animated version that just came out and regret not springing for the extra bonus edition DVD. I thought the art stayed consistent with the original comics, and loved the opening music (though found some of the later scoring to be a little too cliche superhero fanfarish). The total running time was around an hour and half and so a lot of the supporting story lines were cut, which was the only real downfall.

In addition to the DVD, I picked up the supplemental Justice League: The New Frontier Special. I read this while in the laundromat and shared it with a little 4 or 5 year old that was hanging out while his mom was doing laundry. He was really into it and I considered giving him the comic, but then got really greedy and kept it for myself.

My favorite out of the three stories was the last one, featuring Wonder Woman and Black Canary (SPOILERS) infiltrating a Playboy type night club (will WW never be able to escape association with Playboy?!) It was my favorite only for the following two reasons:

Wonder Woman's Burning Breastplate

and

Charlie Mingus Cameo... sorta

Now, this is the Mingus Trio as drawn by J. Bone:


Here is a picture of the Mingus Trio circa 1951:

Notice a distinct difference in instruments and, um, race? The bass player in the comic definitely looks white to me, but if Cooke was in fact referencing Charles Mingus, then he should have been drawn to match Mingus's mixed heritage of Chinese, Swiss, and African-American decent (this according to Wikipedia.)

I did a cursory Internet search of trios that Mingus played with in the 50's and could find no instance of him playing in a trio with a pianist and trumpet. Not that he didn't. In fact, if anyone knows of such an ensemble, please let me know! The trio that I did come across most often is the one pictured above, with Tal Farlow (guitar) and Red Norvo (vibes) in 1950 and 1951.

While I appreciate the nod to one of my favorite jazz musicians, I do wish the proper research had been done to assure authenticity.

Superman Day

Happy Belated 70th Birthday, Superman!!

On February 29, in addition to Leap Year, many fangirls and boys celebrated the birth (sorta) of the Man of Steel. But as with, well everything in the DCU, there is controversy regarding Big Blue's b-day.

Supermanhomepage.com explains:

Superman's creators Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster designed the Man of Tomorrow around 1932 but it took six years of rejections for the pair to sell the character. Finally, in Action Comics #1, Superman debuted. The comic magazine, an anthology which included other stories including DC mage Zatara, was cover-dated June 1938. As anyone who reads comics today knows, comic books -- like magazines -- are post-dated several months so Action Comics #1 actually hit newsstands (remember there weren't any comic book stores back then) in April 1938. So naturally, with a first appearance in April of a comic dated June, we celebrate Superman's anniversary in February. Wait a second, that doesn't seem right.

The idea that Superman's birthday is February 29 initially began as a lark. DC editors explained tongue in cheek in comic book letter columns that Superman remained eternally youthful because he was born on Leap Day, February 29, which occurs only once every four years.

When DC celebrated Superman's 50th anniversary in 1988, they treated February 29 as the Man of Steel's birth date. Even a "TIME" magazine cover-story (March 14, 1988 cover dated magazine) commemorating the 50th anniversary (with a cover by John Byrne) declared for all of America that Superman's birthday is February 29.

DC even held a Leap Day birthday party for Superman's 50th in 1988 which I attended (and I cannot believe that was 20 years ago). The party was held at the Puck Building in downtown Manhattan. There were cheerleaders clad in Superman sweaters. Superman artist Curt Swan was there signing autographs. There was a Superman cake. Party goers got to walk through a room made of Kryptonite (actually green lights and cellophane). And of course there were truckloads of Superman merchandise for sale to those in attendance. I remember it well.

Except it was all a lie if comic book continuity had anything to say about it.

In 1950, Action Comics #149 claimed Superman was born on Krypton in October. However, in 1958's Action Comics #241, it's revealed that Superman celebrates both the date of his birth on Krypton and the date his rocket landed on Earth. The birth date given in this 1958 comic was June 10. Then in Superman #263, Clark Kent's birthday is revealed to be June 18 and it's explained that this is the day his rocket landed on Earth. Notwithstanding these stories, a 1976 calendar published by DC Comics listed February 29 as Superman's birthday.

None of these previous revelations mattered anymore after 1986. Writers John Byrne and Marv Wolfman rebooted Superman's continuity from scratch in the comics. In Byrne's "Man of Steel" miniseries, which introduced the rebooted Man of Tomorrow, Superman isn't born until he reaches Earth. His Kryptonian parents, Jor-El and Lara, grew baby Kal-El in a genetic incubator of sorts. The Kryptonian escape rocket was essentially built around the matrix. When the rocket landed on Earth, the matrix opened up and the infant Kal-El was technically born on Earth when the Kents removed the baby from the ship.

In this post-"Crisis on Infinite Earths" rebooted DC Universe, Clark Kent's birthday is in November. Shortly after the Kents brought the baby back to their Smallville farm, there was an early snow storm which kept them isolated from their rural neighbors for several months. When Spring came, the Kents told the neighbors that Clark was their natural born son.

To confuse matters more, on episodes of TV's "Smallville", Clark celebrated several birthdays in episodes that aired in early May (and a season five episode declared Clark's birthday to be May 3). Except the first meteor shower which brought Clark's rocket to Earth in the first episode of Smallville" took place on October 16, 1989. This makes sense as Smallville High School was celebrating its homecoming the day of the meteor shower. Kal-El emerged from his rocket looking like a three-year old toddler. He even walked from the rocket to the Kents' truck which was overturned by the meteor shower. This is consistent with the origin story as it was told in 1978's "Superman: The Movie" where it was revealed the trip from Krypton to Earth took three years. In "Superman", Kal-El is an infant when he leaves Krypton and a toddler able to walk on his own on his arrival. This continuity is also embraced by 2006's "Superman Returns".

Whenever Clark Kent and/or Superman were "born", Superman the fictional character celebrates 70 years of fictional existence in 2008. DC Comics has not made any official pronouncement of Supes' birthday being February 29 this year as they did back in 1988. The city of Cleveland, Ohio -- hometown to Superman's creators Siegel and Shuster -- plans to celebrate the 70th anniversary in June.

Absent any consensus on when Superman and/or Clark Kent were born, the Superman Homepage honors the Leap Day tradition. Happy Birthday Superman!

I too, plan to pay my homage to Supes.

Today I work from home with a little lite copy-work. In honor of Superman I am currently wearing my favorite Superman PJs (ah, the joys of working from home!) and plan to watch (listen to) a random mix of Superman movies, Lois & Clark episodes, some old Max Fleischer cartoons, and maybe even a CD or two of the radio series, depending on how long it takes to enter this music.

Happy Birthday Superman!

Anywhere But Here: The I Finally Finished Blaine Edition

Eight hours. That's how long it took to clean and prepare the score and parts for Blaine, the sax quintet + bass + drums that I've been slaving over the past 2 months. Do you know how many episodes of Gilmore Girls that is, blaring in the backround as I painstakingly move around measure numbers? (Good thing I got the complete series for Christmas this year!)

Why do I always underestimate this part?

Here's where I wish was now that I'm finished:

Rock pool at Bronte Beach, Sydney

Morning Cup: WW Flies!

Stolen from Andrew:

I totally want one!

Bottomless Links: The Lazy Saturday Morning Edition

Its a sunny, albeit cold, NY morning.

Grab a cafe con leche, turn up the brazilian music, curl up in front of your computer, and click away.

Something Positive

In light of recent turmoil regarding the tentative Watchmen movie, Something Positive pokes at the less than thrilled Alan Moore.

[Via Neil]

Wonder Dolls

My geekdom does not extend to the collection of figurines, but I do reluctantly admit to owning not one, but two Wonder Woman Barbie Dolls. And it turns out I may need to purchase another as Mattel has announced it's 2008 line that includes not only WW, but Black Canary, Batgirl, and Supergirl.

[Via Wabbitseason]

Mixtape Flashback

Long time readers are well aware of my fondness for the art of the mixtape, so it is no surpise how much I appreciate this little Valentine's Day gift from BeaucoupKevin.

[Via LOHCACB]

Benefit Concert

Speaking of tunes, most of you jazzers out there are already aware of the upsetting news regarding Andrew D'Angelo and his recent discovery that he has brain cancer. Even more upsetting is that as a typical jazz musician, he has no health insurance.

For you local NYers, come out next week to one of the many benefit concerts being held to raise money for Andrew's illness. Details are on Darcy's blog.

In complete honesty, I am not really at all familiar with D'Angelo's music, and I've never met him. But we all know how hard this society makes it for the creative type to survive the more mundane aspects of life (and I'm not talking just musicians here). I feel especially grateful to the various musicians, comic writers, and artists of all types who have done their little bit to help me out, sometimes without ever having met me. In the name of solidarity, I will definitely be in attendance to at least one of these concerts, and I hope you, faithful reader will join me.

Hearts, Smiles, & the Blues

I may moonlight as a composer, but my secret identity is that of a part-time public elementary school music teacher. I teach Kindergarten general music, third grade recorders, a 4th grade beginner concert band, a 5th and 6th grade advanced concert band, and a by-audition only Jazz Band.

Every year on Valentine’s Day, my principal expects the music and dance teachers to put together a “Brotherhood” Concert. This concert is intended to be a celebration of heritage, community, and brotherly love. In reality, it is an exercise in stress, cramming, and the fine skill of organizing a concert with children 6 weeks after our last big (Holiday) concert. With the poor timing of standardized tests that occur in January keeping kids out of rehearsals, the Brotherhood Concert is usually very short with one performance (instead of the usual three) from each group.

With the stress this concert brings, coupled with the organizational problems and clash between teachers and administrators at my school, the concept of “brotherhood” feels like a stabbing, hypocritical joke. And yet, today my heart glowed as all hearts should on a day dedicated to love.

As a composer, I spend quite a lot of time trying to perfect the music I write. I agonize over each chord, motif, and voicing so as to most accurately express whatever feeling or emotion I am trying to portray. I strive to tell stories, and communicate certain ideas through the perfection of the music. This is one reason my current commission is taking so long.

As a teacher, I am constantly reminded, as I was today, that the magic from music comes not entirely from the perfection of the writing, but from the intentions of the musicians.

My jazz band performed a simple 5 note, three chord, medium swing blues that I wrote for them last year. They work hard to get the swing feel, but overall my bass player and left hand pianist (also playing the bass line) keep a pretty steady tempo. My sax players still have not figured out how to use their tongue or remember to keep their bottom lip rolled under, and my trumpet players still miss partials. Tuning is not a word they’ve heard me use, except for with the guitarists.

And yet, to be completely generic, they rock! What makes their music so enjoyable is the kids’ excitement. They are SO into it! I have to instate 5 minute breaks of no playing so they don’t wear their chops out. This morning I walked out of the music room onto the stage to find a tenor and a trumpet player standing next to the drummer, the three of them “jamming.” My heart swelled with pride!

They work so hard at it- before the concert started, my alto player played me the first strain of the tune and asked, “is THAT the right feel?” He’s almost got it. The majority of them want a solo, asking for one, then changing their mind, then changing their mind again.

I’m not one to call out or hoot and holler when I hear something I like. When I’m into the music, I find myself smiling.

Listening to my shy right hand pianist manipulate her F blues scale with confidence as the drummer and bass get super soft to accommodate, I can’t help but smile. When the drummer crescendos his 1 bar fill into the showy tenor solo, who has figured out the trick of the trill, I can’t help but laugh. THIS is music. The audience applauds loudly after I myself applaud, letting them know its okay to clap after each solo. The coda offers a Basie piano wink, followed by the only non-unison part of the song- the typical loud, dominant 7 chord finale. One of my trumpet players aims for the super high D in the staff, but misses. Its okay- the audience roars, and I smile.

Later, the chorus performs and I can’t stop smiling. Their faces are so intent as they start off softly, “Some… times in our lives, we all have pain, we all have sorrow.” They over enunciate the “t” in “but” and I smile. They go all forte on the chorus- “LEAN ON ME!”… and I smile. They even manage to clap on the 2 and 4! They performed a second song, a two-part rather cheesy song entitled “Gonna Rise Up Singing.” This one featured two soloists- a 6th grade veteran, and a newbie third grader who is reminiscent of a young George Strait (or so I imagine!) Seriously, this song literally brought tears to my eyes. Not because of how well it was written, but rather from the passion and honesty with which it was sung.

Perhaps I feel this contrast so sharply because I am struggling to finish up this sax quintet. And I’m certainly not saying music should have no intelligence in its composition. I just appreciate the reminder that music does not have to be complicated to be wonderful. It just has to be heartfelt.

Valentine’s Day brings the blues to many, but today, my kids gave me something much better that a heart shaped box of chocolates (especially since it’s Lent again, so no sweets for me!).

They gave me the Blues. They brought magic to music. And that makes me smile.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Magnificent!

The Magnificent Neil Gaiman has for years been giving us magnificent stories to provide escape from our less magnificent lives. Neil now takes the leap from story-telling to fortune-telling. For all those pondering their next move in life, I give you...

Neil & His Magnificent Oracular Journal

Click here to have your fortune told

What did I ask? I asked sage Neil if I would ever finish writing Blaine.

His response? Get off your blog and maybe you will! (or something like that...)

Anywhere But Here: The Fat Tuesday Edition

Three places I'd rather be this Fat Tuesday:

Carnaval, Rio de Janiero

Carnivale, Venice

Mardi Gras, New Orleans