gifts and reminders

The week is only half over and has already been full of gifts.   

I spoke by phone with Cantor Debbi Ballard of Florida. She is an independent Cantor, bringing Jewish education and music to unaffiliated families vis-a-vis a refurbished bus (which, despite my misgiving about automobile dependence, is sort of brilliant) and marrying couples by the dozens. She is inventing herself as she goes. Hearing her story reminded me that, on my own scale, I'm doing the same thing. It's a fine line to depend on uber-institutional Judaism as I currently do, while at the same time I begin to try to figure out how to best serve the unaffiliated and intermarried Jews in my corner of the world. I'd love to have a Friday night gathering of Jews in a bar. We might pray a little, but ideally we'd sing a lot, schmooze and drink and eat a lot, and build community that doesn't depend on the infrastructure of a synagogue.

Meanwhile, I am preparing for my first rehearsals for The Album. Tomorrow I work a bit with my bass player; I hope to schedule a meeting with my harmonica player and my cellist next week before I leave. This is just preliminary stuff; nothing will be finalized until I set up more formal sessions in July. But the basic concept is coming together: I want to make a lean, stripped-down recording of me and my guitar, accompanied at most by one or sometimes two other players. On at least a couple of tracks it will just be me and my guitar. I want to make an organic album of D-I-Y, down-homey, Jewish music.

I want to make an album of contemporary Jewish music that doesn't sound at all like quite a lot of what I've heard out there -- which to my ear sounds almost over-produced. If anything, I want my album to be under-produced. I want the recording to sound like I do when I'm playing live (only with much better sound quality). I want people to hear if my fingers slide along the strings and make that metallic string-slide sound; I want people to hear my real voice, and it will not be rendered sterile-for-anyone's-protection. Basically, I want to make a record album -- with all the crackle and spark and energy of the real thing.

Could I be shooting myself in the foot with this approach? Perhaps. But this is my music and this is the album I want to make, and I'm willing to risk blowing off a few toes in the process. The difference between City of Love and Ten Miles will be the training and professionalism of the guy handling the board, the musicianship of my sidemen (who can all read charts and who understand what I want to achieve), the time and care I take to prepare the songs before I record, and the quality level of the overall experience. Although I admit to being a sound newbie, I learned enough from my last recording experience to be a whole lot clearer on what I DO want this time around. So these first sessions are simply to begin putting it together with my accompanists, whom I've taken to calling my Stalwarts.

I am in the final countdown of days before I head out for The Incredible June. I packed and shipped the camping gear box for my Grand Canyon adventure -- that was the easier box to compile so I got it out of the way. By Friday I need to send off the supplies for my Kansas adventure (cue the flying monkeys), including found bits and sheet music and other books I don't want to schlep in my bag, plus maybe the one dressy outfit and nice shoes I'll likely need for Shabbat (I'm told they dress up more in Kansas than in Portland, but basically everyone dresses up more than we do in Portland, so I'm not totally surprised). There's a vague possibility I may be invited to do some Shabbat music with the Cantor (which would be cool) so I ought to be prepared. (I can be such a Girl Scout...)


Finally, I remind myself (several times a day, sometimes) NOT to compare myself or my trajectory with anyone else. I am simply doing Jewish music my way, as I promised I would if I "heard the call" again. So far it mostly seems to be working out. As I said to Debbi yesterday, I don't know what comes next and I am trying not to freak out at all the unknowing in the process.

And there is a LOT of unknowing.

twister

This afternoon a massive tornado touched down in Moore, Oklahoma -- and stayed there for an hour.
The devastation was shockingly complete. Entire neighborhoods looked like the very littered surface of a moon. People could not find addresses because landmarks no longer existed. A school gymnasium was cut in two; one half stood upright and the other lay nearly flattened right next to it.
Over fifty people are dead as of 6 pm (Pacific Time), more fatalities are expected to be found in the rubble.

There had been storms most of the weekend in the region. That part of the midwest is known as "Tornado Alley" and it's not a matter of if, but when and how many tornadoes will happen in a given year.

I pray for the safety of those who survived and will, of course, look into local efforts to send help to Oklahoma.

Portland gets lots of weather -- heavy rain, spring flooding and periodic ice storms. We even get earthquakes now and then, mostly little ones that move the needle at Portland State's geology department though folks mostly don't feel them under their butt at the coffee house.

But we don't get tornadoes out here.

Sweetie is worried. I am traveling to Kansas in less than two weeks. Specifically, to a part of Kansas that sits in Tornado Alley. I have promised her that when I get there, I will be sure to ask my hosts about what you do in a tornado. And then I will trust my hosts' advice and get busy. Because seriously, what else can I do?

chameleon

I had to cancel a show today. It was a short, very informal coffee-hour set over at World Cup, and I stupidly scheduled it at the end of a week filled with singing. By lunchtime today my voice had picked up and flown to Reno and was not coming back in time for the show -- so I let the guys at World Cup know I had to cancel (they were sweet and offered me hot tea for my throat), and posted a notice on my Facebook Music page.

I originally released the link to this for supporters of my IndieGogo campaign, which wrapped up Friday. Now I'm ready to share with more people. Shot at the Willow Cottage house concert on the 9th, this song is called "Chameleon" and is basically semi-autobiographical (when it's not talking about larger picture of our share immigrant heritage). The Hebrew is taken from Psalm 139: "I praise You because I am awesomely and wondrously made..." and serves as a sort of corrective for all the doubts [about whether I fit in or not].

Here's a link. Enjoy.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P_9D9hwKC08

homestretch: the ten miles campaign ends this week

The clock is ticking. There are now 4.5 days left in my IndieGogo campaign.

I've been told by some folks who are way more technically savvy than me that there have been things I didn't do "right" about this campaign. I should've joined Twitter and blasted tweets till the cows come home; I should've done a harder sell, posting updates every twelve hours (I know a guy who did that with his mechanical-invention Kickstarter project); I should've done this and that and the other thing.

It's all good. Really. I am not worried.

I've raised a little over 40 % of my stated goal. Considering my chosen niche and genre (Jewish folk? Seriously? Yeah, I know); my lack of long-term history in the "known" Jewish music scene (whatever); and my location (what? There are Jews in, um, Portlandia? Who knew?) -- I am amazed, astounded and absolutely gratified at how WELL this thing has gone. In 36 days I have raised more money than I've ever made in a month at any regular job. That's pretty awesome.

In the last 36 days I have connected with more Jewish musicians than I knew existed; turned more people onto my music (I apparently now have fans in -- get this -- Indonesia); and performed my music more than I played in the last six months. For someone living in a not-so-Jewish place who doesn't know a ton of people I'd say I did pretty damned well.

In the interests of transparency: I now have enough money to record my stuff in the studio, in a manner that is consistent with my vision -- stripped-down, spare, lean and organic -- and if I really economize there my be enough money to cover the cost of a poor-man's master.
The artwork and duplication? Well, I have time to figure that stuff out. It will be at least the fall before I can get into the studio to record, and raising enough to get that far makes me happier than you can imagine.

Because I'm NOT a known quantity, I feel like I have a LOT more freedom to make the album I want -- and simply put it out there. So in the end I am happy.

I am NOT throwing in the towel. There are still 4 days left and anyone who hasn't yet hopped aboard still has a little time. But I am not going to suddenly pick up the points of advice my tech-savvy pals have offered. They'd be odd and somewhat disingenuous now, and not my style. Instead, I'm going to work up my set list for next Sunday's show and keep on booking more gigs around town to further hone my songs. Because in the end, that's really what I'm trying to do.

Thanks to everyone for their support, encouragement and kind advice -- it all matters, it all helps, and it all touches me in ways you cannot imagine. I am on an incredible journey that began in one sense last fall, and which has been going on in another sense for years. If there was a pub big enough I'd sit you all down and tell you the whole story over a beer. But since I can't do that I will just keep writing and playing my songs and hope they tell enough of the story.

Thanks again and you all totally rock.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yIsCCjTlpVQ

Gloria

"So every day, when I wake up in the morning
  And I look into my mirror, see you smiling back at me,
  That's an immortality
  I guess I could live with..."          

                  --from the song, "Gloria" by Beth Hamon

Because one day a year was never enough to describe the loving, beautiful, smart, sad enigma that was my mom.

http://www.reverbnation.com/bethhamon/song/17276563-gloria-demo

paralells

We are in the midst of a paradigm shift.

Here are three examples of why I think this is so:

1.  Courtney Love, one of the most controversial -- and intelligent -- musicians out there, has written a searing indictment of the recording industry and the changes that threaten to topple the status quo:

http://www.salon.com/2000/06/14/love_7/

Her thesis, basically, is that record companies have stopped nurturing artistic talent in favor of simply owning the means of production and distribution instead. It's cheaper and far more profitable. But it leaves independent artists out in the cold. She does strike a hopeful note by suggesting that, thanks to the democracy of the Internet, artists are finding ways to distribute their own music without the help of a major label. Some new artists are even turning down offers from record labels precisely in order to maintain the greatest control over their music.

2. The rise of online rabbinical schools that offer one to two years training, culminating in S'micha (ordination):

http://www.myjewishlearning.com/blog/rabbis-without-borders/2013/05/06/what-makes-a-rabbi-a-rabbi-can-a-rabbi-be-ordained-on-line/

The author, a rabbi who went the traditional route of an expensive, five-year program at one of the major denominational schools, explores the rise of these newly ordained rabbis -- and congregations' willingness to hire some of them at a rate of pay far less than what they would pay a denominationally-trained rabbi.
The comments reveal the tip of a huge iceberg of change that is about to explode in the realm of institutional Judaism, as a generation of Jews are choosing to create their Judaism, rather than to merely consume it. If this trend continues to grow, a lot of aspects of denominational Judaism -- including the lengthy, expensive rabbinic training programs and the high salary expectations which accompany them -- could find themselves hovering on the brink of irrelevance. When you can take a one-year course that will train you in just enough of the ritual and halachic basics to make the average North American Jew more than happy, what is the point of an education at HUC or JTS?
Here's one person's take which I found today online at PunkTorah:

http://punktorah.org/i-run-a-synagogue-for-poor-people-jewish-jane-doe/

This discussion is only really beginning and it will be very interesting to see where it goes.

3. The explosion of bicycle shops in Portland over the last five years has been well-documented. What hasn't yet been discussed is how many of the newest one-person shops are staffed by mechanics who went through one of the two major mechanics' programs (Barnett's or UBI), and how many are staffed by mechanics who did not. In the case of the former, I've seen and heard many examples of bicycle repairs that were absolutely botched by the UBI-trained mechanic who was never trained in how to repair older components. (In several cases, I had to undo a lot of their damage while still employed at Citybikes.)
In the case of the latter, an awful lot of these newer, tiny one-man shops are staffed by mechanics who learned either through years of working for someone else or in a more traditional, one-on-one apprenticeship (as I did) -- and their work is generally spot-on.

I think in all of these cases, and especially as the New Economy begins to take a bigger financial bite out of institutions as well as individuals, we're seeing a rise in the number of people who are willing to learn how to do more for themselves. Anecdotally speaking, I'm seeing more students in the 18-25 age group put off college temporarily or even permanently in favor of charting their own course, either through seeking out an apprenticeship in one of the skilled trades, or by joining together with like-minded others to share skills that a college course can't teach (like making simple household repairs, growing organic food sustainably, or building your own solar panels and getting off the power grid).

A quote comes to mind, from Matthew Crawford's book Shop Class as Soulcraft:

"A heady vision of the progressive hereafter in which economic antagonism has been overcome may come to stand in for, and distract [one] from, the smaller but harder work of living well in this life. The alternative to revolution... is resolutely this-worldly [emphasis mine]. It insists on the permanent, local viability of what is best in human beings. In practice, this means seeking out the cracks where individual agency and the love of knowledge can be realized today, in one's own life."

In short, more and more folks want to own their own lives again, and to own more pieces of them.
What will this mean for the training and expectations of the professionalized middle class so many of us grew up with? What will it mean for the larger structures -- the record industry, denominational Jewish institutions, technological certification programs, and more -- which depend on maintaining (and even nurturing) a sense of dependence upon those structures, and may also depend on nurturing a degree of personal ignorance in these and other matters?

I think we are living in very interesting times.

keep it fun

(Photo shared here with permission of the parent, who took it a couple of weeks ago.)

One day after my Preschool Shabbat teaching duties were finished for the morning, one of the parents approached me. "My son really wants to show you something; do you have a few minutes to stick around?" I did, and was happy to wait while her son went and got his surprise.
Wearing the most impish grin, he proceeded to show me a small padded gig bag, I helped him unzip it, and out came a ukelele.

He insisted on playing it for me. I listened, smiled and nodded in time with his music.
At age three he didn't know chords, and didn't seem to care. He was just happy to be making music in his own way. While we sat on the steps and visited, his mom asked me, "do you teach private lessons?"
"Sure," I said, "but not to a three-year-old. He's way too young for lessons right now. Just let him enjoy it on his own terms." I went on to tell her that there were several music schools around town where the two of them could take music time together in a parent-and-child class format, and that this would be a better place to begin when he's a little bit older. "Just make sure you keep it fun," I advised.

He certainly had no trouble making his own fun.
We sat on the steps, I smiled, he played and his mom asked if she could snap a few photos.
He kept strumming and smiling, and his fun was infectious.
I rode home unable to stop smiling.