Composer

Follow the Yellow Brick Hole

Literature, Musician, Personal, Theatre

L. Frank Baum, the author of the Wizard of Oz, spent a short time here in town as a student at the Peekskill Military Academy. (Being a loosey -goosey creative sort, he hated it.)

At this point in the city’s history, the roads were paved with bricks. Yellow Ones. Peekskill was a somewhat serious port in those days, and Belgian ships would bring over yellow bricks as ballast, before they headed home with their iron products manufactured here in Peekskill. (I’m sure you can see where I’m going with this.)

When the pavement wears through and large potholes happen, we frequently get down to the yellow brick road.

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Well, you can imagine. Many Peekskill folks have claimed Baum’s inspiration for the yellow brick road as local. There’s even a Wizard of Oz themed event every year at our local restored movie palace, The Paramount.

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A section of preserved road, on private land.

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I’ve thought a few times about producing a musical at the Paramount. However, the things I like to do are more suited to a black-box or a parlor theatre. The Paramount is a football field.

All is going along nicely here.

I’m visiting Florida in a few weeks. Principally to spend time with my Mom, but I’ll also get to see my dear friend K! It’s so nice to be in close touch with a few folks from high school.

The teeny-tiny 1920s musical about a person whose name has a Z in it is finished and ready for a first read. However, one needs performers for such things. We are going to wait until after the school year starts to announce auditions. Seems prudent.

Hope you’re all well too!

Dickens & The Romantics

Musician, Theatre

That would be a good name for a band.

I’ve been writing to pass the time — I have a half+ draft of of a very Dickensian chamber musical written. If you’re familiar with Dickens and/or the Romantic Poets; it’s principally about the Micawbers, Nell Clenham, and Thomas Gray.

Its usual fate would be this: Printed out, bound, and put in a drawer unproduced. That’s 100% okay. I have a few of these unfinished on top of the upstairs piano. It would sting a little to banish this one though, because I think it’s quite good.

The last time I produced a musical I was swimming in actors and theater people. Since moving, I don’t have the theatrical friends I used to, we’re all spread out now. After a point, I don’t work very well alone. Eventually, you need to make demo recordings, bounce ideas around, and read out loud with another person.

I decided I’m going to be actively on the lookout, but I haven’t decided quite how. I’ll be looking for a baritone-tenor to work with, who could then take the role of Thomas as things progress.

I looked at the rates and specs for the Paramount theatre around the corner. It’s beautiful, but it’s way, way, way too big. I knew it would be. It’s a good thing — if it were 50% the size and didn’t have a balcony, I’d have been tempted to get out my checkbook.

The Peekskill Paramount

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There’s a super-cute small theater about a sixty-second walk from our house. (No kidding!) It’s a “nope” though. It’s marketed as a wedding/events/catering venue. Of course, its rates reflect that.

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I think I probably gasped when I was given the dollar signs for this beautiful, quirky little place. But, being what it is, it would cost several thousand dollars for just one afternoon/evening. Plus, no piano. (And I don’t need canapés at intermission.)

My peculiar little five-person musical play would be most at home in a small 19th century lecture hall or an old stone meeting house, even the large parlor of a grand home. So, that search continues.

But first things first. If you know a “Thomas” candidate, send him my way! We’ll do a video submission. He’d be late 20s/early 30s, handy to Westchester, theatre experience, baritone/tenor, perhaps a bit awkward. I imagine an Adrian Brody type.

Sun, Sand, Movies, and Manageable Nature

Musician, Travel

First of all — Curse you, Netflix and Amazon Prime for fixing it so your films cannot be played via a projector. Good. I got that out of my system.

I just had the best day yesterday. No pain all day, no issues other than fatigue.

I’m working hard on my silent film scores. I’ve finished the Chaplin two-reeler and started the Harold Lloyd short! Then … Nosferatu!

(Gratuitous dogs photo.)

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We now know surgery will be early July and eight weeks recuperation after that. Then I want a vacation after recuperation. I have something specific in mind.

It’s funny how I arrived at this.

In the first Pirates of the Caribbean film, there was a short scene shot on a sandbar well out into the ocean somewhere, about ankle deep. I remember seeing the film at an invited premiere because Jonathan worked for Disney at the time. I saw that sandbar 15 years ago, and thought, “I want to go there.”

And I’ve been thinking about it ever since.

I found a specific bay on Bermuda that I really like. I’ll think about it.

Tobacco Bay, St. George’s Island, Bermuda

In the Studio

Musician, Personal

One of my older students asked me yesterday what my studio looked like. I’m sure he was imagining the puffy egg cartons on the walls, a rolling desk chair, a gigantic mixing board, and a plate glass window.

We had been talking about recording, and he was interested in what I am doing right now, so we’d had to listen to the track I’m working on (“Saint Clement’s, Forestbury“).

At one point, I guess it must’ve been about 15 years ago, my studio did indeed take up a small room of its own — a full-size digital piano, a smaller controller keyboard, digital sound modules in a rack, a mini disc deck (and before that, a DAT deck), a big lunky computer, etc. I still use versions of all those things and more; but as we know, electronics have gotten much smaller and much more powerful. I use an iPad Pro, an Akai MK3 mini, and a Sennheiser condenser mic.

A picture sounds 1000 notes, so here is a photo of my studio and workstation these days; including my recording engineer, Eli.

No vocals today, so we didn’t have the mic set up.

Creature of the Night

Goals, Musician, Personal

I’m a nighttime person.

Undeniably, part of the reason that I most enjoy the late hours is that everyone else is asleep (and leaving me alone). I understand and appreciate the privilege in my schedule — I have time to do things I enjoy, I can do some of my work while I am resting, and in fact, I enjoy my work.

I like where I have arrived. There were unavoidable years of survival jobs and work in music which necessitated long hours. There was returning to school to learn new instruments or improve skills. I’m thankful for all this, and also thankful that it’s now in the past.

I have a been assistant to a broker on the trading floor of a private bank. I have been a buyer’s assistant for QVC. I have been on corporate national tours. I have worked in retail at a record store. I have been a classroom teacher. I have been the receptionist for the office of a celebrity talk show. I have been a pit musician.

With all this past (and plenty left out), days are calm. Almost invariably, this is what my days look like.

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9:00 am

10:00 am

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12:00 pm

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2:00 pm

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6:00 pm

11:00 pm

2:00 am

Wake Up, shower.

Answer work emails, book work, planning, etc.

Composition, orchestration, recording time.

Teaching private students (piano, theory, music exploration).

Rest, watch a play or documentary; or DIY work.

Read, write a blog post.

Bed time.

I suppose the moral of the story is that it’s best to work hard honing your (practical) gifts and putting them into practice, working toward a long-term goal of peace and enjoyment.

Or at least, it worked for me.