Standards
Where the heck did "standard" guitar tuning come from? I mean, really: E, ok...gotta start somewhere, A...ok, a fourth, that's a nice interval, D, aha, I begin to see a pattern here...G, yup, definitely either a pattern or a good old 1950s Commie Plot...B, oka....whoa, hey, WHAT? E, another fourth, whatever, like I'm gonna fall for that again. At least I'm not the only one wondering, and of course there are a host of alternate tunings used in various folk music settings.
But I digress.
Marg and I went to see a dance concert Saturday night. One of the people I work with was in one of the groups. As far as I can recall, this was the first time I've ever been to a performance that was only dance, dance and more dance (albeit in numerous styles). No, that one party at Frank's trailer doesn't count.
Anyway, I wasn't really sure what to expect, but it was a lot of fun. The performers covered a wide range of talent (the show was both members of the dance program at Vandy and people in the program's community classes), and the choreography ranged from utterly traditional to (what to my untutored eye anyway was) wildly experimental. The audience was large and lively, and everyone had a good time.
It also got me thinking about art and expression and all that crap. It seems like a lot of us spend half of our time wishing we could express ourselves better, and the other half quaking in fear at the possibility. I mean, just look at the post dates on this website. At this concert on Saturday, I noticed two things (two relevant to this discussion, anyway). First, there were a lot of people up there on stage that were fantastic dancers, but there were also quite a few that weren't (or aren't yet!). The folks who were less skilled seemed to be having just as much fun as the nearly-professional dancers, and golly if the audience didn't love them just as much. In the process, communication happened on various levels, and I like to think most everybody went away with just a little bit less weight on their minds as well as a tiny sense of having participated in something really ALIVE.
What the hell is my point? I think making art is important, and there are two things most of us need to do more of to enrich ourselves. One is to go ahead and try stuff without worrying that we might not be perfect. The other is to go out and see some art. Hit a gallery, go to a concert and a dance recital. In particular, though, go to performances, gallery shows, etc. by real people who live in your community. Rage, rage against the coming homogenization of our world. And go see something you know nothing about! This last year or so I've been to my first dance recital and my first Texas Swing music show. I was shocked to find that not only did I enjoy both, but I think I learned something and got some useful impressions to internalize and incorporate in my own work each time.
And that's better than a boot to the head any day.
But I digress.
Marg and I went to see a dance concert Saturday night. One of the people I work with was in one of the groups. As far as I can recall, this was the first time I've ever been to a performance that was only dance, dance and more dance (albeit in numerous styles). No, that one party at Frank's trailer doesn't count.
Anyway, I wasn't really sure what to expect, but it was a lot of fun. The performers covered a wide range of talent (the show was both members of the dance program at Vandy and people in the program's community classes), and the choreography ranged from utterly traditional to (what to my untutored eye anyway was) wildly experimental. The audience was large and lively, and everyone had a good time.
It also got me thinking about art and expression and all that crap. It seems like a lot of us spend half of our time wishing we could express ourselves better, and the other half quaking in fear at the possibility. I mean, just look at the post dates on this website. At this concert on Saturday, I noticed two things (two relevant to this discussion, anyway). First, there were a lot of people up there on stage that were fantastic dancers, but there were also quite a few that weren't (or aren't yet!). The folks who were less skilled seemed to be having just as much fun as the nearly-professional dancers, and golly if the audience didn't love them just as much. In the process, communication happened on various levels, and I like to think most everybody went away with just a little bit less weight on their minds as well as a tiny sense of having participated in something really ALIVE.
What the hell is my point? I think making art is important, and there are two things most of us need to do more of to enrich ourselves. One is to go ahead and try stuff without worrying that we might not be perfect. The other is to go out and see some art. Hit a gallery, go to a concert and a dance recital. In particular, though, go to performances, gallery shows, etc. by real people who live in your community. Rage, rage against the coming homogenization of our world. And go see something you know nothing about! This last year or so I've been to my first dance recital and my first Texas Swing music show. I was shocked to find that not only did I enjoy both, but I think I learned something and got some useful impressions to internalize and incorporate in my own work each time.
And that's better than a boot to the head any day.