Call for Musicians
Working on a new piece related to Filipino identity, intersectionality, and colonialism. I need performers!
I have been looking for musicians for a new piece I'm going to start working on soon, a piece related to Filipino identity and intersectionality, and so far it's been *crickets.* It has been challenging to find other Filipinos in the performing arts here on the East Coast. It's not that I am trying to only work with people who share my culture (in fact, I believe in sharing culture with others, which is why I think that cultural appropriation is a more nuanced issue than simply being wrong...more on that at some point in the future), but I think I should try my best to see if there are other artists who can identify with the issues the piece will explore and REPRESENT! Filipinos are underrepresented in the performing arts, so here I am, adding my voice and trying to make the voices of others heard. I am ultimately open to working with anyone, any race, gender, etc., because, as I mentioned, I think we should share culture with one another, and ultimately this piece is about just one of the many things humans experience on earth. But I just need to TRY to see who's out there, beyond my own close circle of colleagues.
Below is a call for musicians that I am posting on other artist sites. Please feel free to share with anyone you think may be interested. Thanks!
Seeking Musicians for Multidisciplinary Project
Sugar Vendil and her artistic team are currently seeking musicians to collaborate on and perform in a new multidisciplinary piece based on racial identity, specifically centering on Filipino culture and colonization. The work will integrate live music, movement, and fashion (costumes). Musicians must be comfortable with dance/movement, since the piece will involve Filipino folk dance, as well as playing keyboard instruments such as a melodica or toy piano. The work will be directed by Sugar Vendil, with music composed by both Vendil and Trevor Gureckis, and choreographed by a Filipino folk dance specialist (will be announced at a later date).
This will involve a collaborative process, e.g., workshopping, going to a residency outside of the city, rehearsals, etc. Schedules will be determined well in advance and artists will be compensated for their time. The first workshop will take place in April 2017. To learn more about Sugar Vendil's work, visit her website.
If you are interested, please contact us through this form with the following information by November 28, 2016 :
1) An introductory message, detailing your interest in the project
2) Bio
3) Links to performances (video and/or audio)
4) Website
Please use the same form above to contact us with any questions.
Rite of Passage at Federal Hall
A performance art piece at Federal Hall.
I had started this blog post and completely forgot about it. The farthest I got was inserting an image then saving the draft. Anyway. A couple of weeks ago I saw performance artist Erin Helfert's Rite of Passage at Federal Hall with sound design by composer Nina C. Young. Helfert stood in the center of the circular hall, where she would turn towards different directions of the space, and repeatedly recited a monologue about her rape and her 5-year struggle to seek justice for it. (You can read about her experience in more detail here.)
Rite of Passage was powerful while it remained relatively simple. There were no other visuals aside from the artist herself, speakers, the space we were in, and other spectators. Helfert’s monologue, spoken into a microphone with live processing and electronics manipulated and created by Young, referred to “this body” and what it endured, the body that we were seeing right in front of us. To me, she was like a medium, channeling the past and speaking of it with both emotion and distance. The format of the piece itself, taking place in a government building, an amplified voice talking to strangers, took us back in time to the days of the trial. In her Chime for Change piece, Helfert writes: “Countless times, I’ve had to repeat the details of my rape before a room full of strangers, often into a microphone, the speakers blaring to a crowded courtroom audience.”
It was a gray day when this took place and I was almost too lazy to leave the apartment but I’m so glad I did. I was moved by how Helfert, with Young, both created something beautiful and demonstrated great strength after such an ugly and horrific experience.
A staring contest amongst sculptures and other random updates
Random updates.
I hope everyone enjoyed their summer! Summer is not really my jam, but I had a good one. Here's what went down:
- I visited LA, where I performed music by Trevor for piano + electronics at Clifton's, an interesting art deco cafeteria/bar/taxidermy museum/former Ray Bradbury haunt
- I got interviewed by Pregame Magazine
- Violinist Hajnal Pivnick and I got all avant-garde at the Bertoia exhibition in the Museum of Art and Design (MAD) in some costumes by my friend Atelier de Geste (pic above). Thanks to Hajnal for being down to get weird last minute! MAD invited musicians to record audio in the space but I wanted to make a video (ok, amateur film) and not just a sound recording. Now I need to sit down with iMovie and make it...
- I won my first award as an individual artist from the Puffin Foundation for a new multimedia piece that I now also need to make!
Until I have more time after the NCP Benefit to focus on making the things I need to make, I've been seeing performances every week or so to gather inspiration. Most recently I headed up to Yale to see Carrie Mae Weems' Grace Notes: Reflections for Now and last Saturday I saw the second installment of Taylor Mac's A 24-Decade History of Popular Music. Weems' shows are done, but Mac's are still going on and SO worth seeing! I'm even thinking about going to the 24-hour marathon performances. We'll see...I'll let you know if it ends up happening!
RECHARGE/HER at BuoyRR
Went to a performance in the woods in CT.
I made an impulse purchase this past week immediately after finding about BuoyRR’s RECHARGE/HER, an immersive dance performance, on the Creators Project blog. The performance is a culmination of the collaborative work created by 17 artists during the BuoyRR residency, which is led by founders Bailey Nolan and Viva Soudan at The Peace Barn sanctuary in Deep River, Connecticut.
I convinced my BFF Alicia to come with me. The bus was the fanciest one we'd ever been on, with hardwood floors and leather seats. We secured the front seats that included a table. Moments later, a woman dressed in a blue outfit arrived and said she was our bus camp counselor. Her name is Ellen Robin and she made the bus ride part of the experience: she brought glitter, face paint, and googly eyes for us to decorate our faces and lanyard materials and yarn for hair wraps. I was down to get into the whole experience so after Ellen told me how to do it, I made one for Lish.
The ride went by quickly, as there was no traffic and lots of wrapping to do! When we arrived at The Peace Barn we were greeted by friendly faces and got settled in. For the actual performance, Bailey and Viva led two groups of about 30 people where we were required to remain silent. It was a really beautiful, meditative experience. It’s not often that one has the opportunity to experience a performance not just in a forest, but walking through one. We were guided through a nature walk of sorts, where instead of encountering wild animals, we saw duos and trios performing site-specific phrases on repeat. Each group had their own individual costuming yet aligned with the group’s blue color theme. The rain would start and stop and it made the whole experience even more unpredictable. Some performers interacted with the audience, putting both performer and observer in a more vulnerable place. The walk lasted nearly 3 hours and afterward we had a chance to meet people and eat lasagna.
The whole experience was so memorable and I’m happy to learn that a place like BuoyRR exists! As I've mentioned in previous blog posts, I'm currently focusing on creative process and seeing this performance made me excited about my upcoming intensive, where I'm required to lead an entire day of workshopping. I'll likely reflect on RECHARGE/HER more in the coming days and continue to be inspired!
I'll be eloquent another day
I’m currently doing research for a project that I’m going to start digging into later this summer. And I’m aiming to finish this blog post by 3:30 pm, which is in 15 minutes, when I have to head out the door.
Over the past couple of years, I’ve been reflecting deeply on race and gender. And not in the general sense, but specifically about being a woman of Asian descent, being Filipino, and a Filipino artist, in America. There are so many contradictions and I’ll be eloquent on another day, but now I’m down to 10 minutes. With the way I’ve been brought up, there’s a mixture of pride (lumpia is THE BEST type of eggroll, #sorrynotsorry; Pacquiao (as an athlete, not as a person!); Boracay is one of the most stunning beaches in the world) and self-loathing (stay out of the sun to avoid getting dark; use skin-bleaching soap; looking more Chinese=better). I’m proud to understand every word of Tagalog, although I do need to brush up on my speaking. I love so much about the country where my parents come from, but it can also be such a sad place. Last night I watched the movie Metro Manila and it pained me to see the slums of the Philippines that are all too real, and the way most of the world sees us.
Us? I was born in the United States so I’m American...wtf am I even talking about? But as I’ve gotten older I’ve been drawn to investigating how my upbringing as a daughter of Filipino Immigrants have affected my worldview. It’s become undeniable, unavoidable. Being born female and having the natural inclination to prove I can do anything boys do definitely complicated things, as Filipinos still had a “traditional” view of women when I was growing up: I had to beg to play volleyball (luckily I did; I was good and played varsity for 3 years of high school…in fact, I often thought I’d pursue volleyball instead of piano) and when I wanted to skateboard, my dad was resistant and asked if I was a lesbian. (And of course I didn’t back down without a fight. And of course I won. For the record, my dad is actually a really nice, open-minded guy…he’s grown a lot, so please don’t hate on him! Plus I keep him in line. And I’m a shitty skateboarder.)
I need to finish this up so long story long: I’m creating a piece that incorporates a Filipino dance called the Tinikling. I’ve found a lot of metaphors in the dance itself that I think I can really expand on. This week I've been reading through various texts and I thought I’d try writing this (very rushed) post as part of my process.
If you are also the child or descendant of immigrants and want to share anything related about your own experience, please feel free to comment!
Piano at the pop-up
Performing at Jennifer Elster's exhibition.
I'm on a plane heading to Fort Lauderdale, and from there we'll go to Key West for a sorely needed getaway. It was a little painful to get up at 4:45 am this morning since we were up late packing after performing at the J. Elster pop-up in TriBeCa. Jennifer, the "J" of the gallery's namesake, overhauled the Steinway piano of her late grandfather, harpist Reinhardt Elster, the oldest retiree of the Metropolitan Opera. Trevor Gureckis and I played solo piano pieces: I played the fugue from Ravel's le Tombeau de Couperin and the cadenza from Potential Energies, composed by Trevor, and he played Philip Glass's Mad Rush as well as his own nocturne. People would get so close when we performed. Some dude was even standing in the curve of the piano looking at me. I didn't mind; I thought it was cool that the idea of physical distance between performers and audience somehow dissolved for people in this setting.
The gallery was full of Jennifer's artistic reflections on existence, which included collaborations with David Bowie and Yoko Ono, and a video called "Cemetery," which Trevor and I perform in. It was exciting to see it, since it was taped in 2014 and finally premiered last night. Other performances included Met harpist Mariko Anraku and a makeup artist/musician on singing bowls (will find his name!), and impromptu performance art by Jennifer.
One of my favorite moments was when Julia Wilkins, who was also in "Cemetery," just started dancing with the harpist. Someone behind me said, "Is that supposed to happen?" When Jennifer got up to join her it was clear the answer was "Yes."
After experiencing this I feel more compelled to pursue all the weird, random ways I want to express myself. It's inspiring to see someone do it so beautifully and honestly.
And now...pics!
My favorite moment at my first Target Margin Theater Intensive
First Intensive as a Target Margin fellow.
In early March, my fellow fellows and I had our first intensive. It was grueling, fun, and fulfilling. Here's my favorite moment, captured in this photo by Gaia Squarci and a journal entry, below.
More info about Target Margin here, and get tickets for their upcoming benefit here!
Breaking Habits & a Handheld Projector
More on the new piece.
On Saturday, April 2, I’ll perform an excerpt of Potential Energies, a ballet for musicians and dancers, with the original choreographer of the piece, Barbie Diewald, and premiere a new 6-minute piece called Test Site 1: (In)Habit, an experiment in process that I created with choreographer Coco Karol. All the music for the program is composed by Trevor Gureckis. In PE I’ll be playing the piano in the usual way (for the most part) and perform with Barbie, while in Test Site 1 I’ll be completely dancer-less but I will have a handheld projector and approach the piano in weird/wrong/unconventional ways. Over the past two years, I’ve been interested in exploring how musicians can use their entire bodies in performance, both the possibilities and the limitations , partly because I’m obsessed with dance, and also because I’m inspired by the amazing group I work with at NCP who are not only skilled instrumentalists but amazing performers in general.
I’m not gonna lie, this is a tricky thing to investigate because there’s always the danger of the cheese factor and things just not coming across effectively, of the work looking contrived or just straight up stupid. It’s not the most poetic or eloquent way to describe my self-consciousness, but it’s what goes through my mind, constantly. In creating Test Site 1, I wanted to immerse myself in a process (=3 hours in the studio every week since the beginning of February), get out of my comfort zone and let go of my judgmental mind, and create a solo work, which I plan to do more of in the coming years.
I won’t say too much about Test Site 1, because I can’t, because it’s an experiment, but it does revolve around the body, nature, urban life, & obligation (in this case, the piano), drawing connections & acknowledging tension between these elements. Tickets for the performance are here. In the meantime, below are behind-the-scenes photos!
Music in a Memory Palace
Kristine Haruna Lee's immersive memory palace piece.
On February 21, I'll be performing at La MaMa with composer and singer Lacy Rose in harunalee theater company's to the left of the pantry and under the sugar shack, an immersive theater experience. I saw the set for the first time during our tech rehearsal and I was blown away. I loved the entire aesthetic and I just wanted to touch everything. While it’s rare, things sometimes the stars align, as they are right now for me creatively: I have an experimental theater fellowship, I’m making my first solo piece, and now I’m involved in this production. This will be my first performance in a theater piece and it couldn’t have been more fitting for me, as I still get to play my role of pianist. (I’m pretty sure all this was sparked by my trip to Joshua Tree last Fall).
harunalee's website describes to the left of the pantry and under the sugar shack as "an exploratory installation which is a little bit cosmos and a little bit party, carefully designed and built so you can crawl into it at your leisure." The company accepted submissions of memories from the public. Each evening there will be different performers who work in various mediums, including dance, drag, music, and more. For our performance, I will accompany Lacy on three songs she composed especially for the installation. One composition is an invocation of the goddess of memory, Mnemosyne, another piece is inspired by one of Lacy's memories, and the third is a piece inspired by a participant's memory. It only seats 35 at a time, so it's best to reserve your tickets in advance, which you can do here.
Tanya Taylor FW 2016
More FASHUN!
Worked on the music for Tanya Taylor's FW 2016 presentation (mostly creative direction and piano) with Trevor Gureckis aka My Great Ghost. He's an incredibly talented composer and producer. In fact, he worked on some of the latest Kanye album, The Life of Pablo, and some of his stuff made it onto the final! Anyway, this show was so beautiful and it's best you see it rather than read about it, so here are photos of my favorite looks...and Beatrix Ost because she was there and I just had to take a picture of her!
SAUNDER AW16 Presentation
FASHUN!
NYFW always brings about some craziness for me, whether or not I'm working on music for a show (which I am...more on that later). It seems EVERYTHING happens during fashion week; perhaps it's just the nature of February.
Yesterday I went from my Target Margin Theater Fellowship breakfast, to workshopping my new piece with choreographer Coco Karol, to the SAUNDER Presentation. Emily Saunders took an interesting approach to her show: models walked in between parallel yellow ropes as a circular runway, a dance performance by Grace Rising Dance happened in the middle of the presentation, then the models re-entered the space in the same way wearing different looks. I also want to mention that the production designer, Benjamin Heller, is Coco's boyfriend...the world keeps getting smaller! I couldn't catch the rest of the show because I had to go somewhere important but a little less exciting: in front of my computer to catch a webinar on corporate giving. Womp, womp!
Embracing Process for Progress
New piece!
I was recently accepted into Target Margin Theater’s (TMT) Institute for Collaborative Theater Making, where artists are invited to challenge themselves, their practices, and engage in questioning and experimentation. Activities include intensives, focused experimentation, adventures, and breakfasts. I was so thrilled just to get the interview; I don’t have a theater background so I thought my chances of becoming a fellow were low. What appealed to me is the way the Institute seems to balance structure with artistic freedom and experimentation. There is no end goal or specific project to work towards. In both the application guidelines and in the interview, it was emphasized that we would need to set aside whatever we are working on for one big question mark; the Institute would be a place not to launch and execute projects, but to embrace the unknown. The Fellowship is already such a gift in and of itself, and beyond that TMT gives each fellow a $1,000 stipend as well as space.
I am beyond excited to take part in this, as I believe this is exactly what I need right now. I have been building my music ensemble, The Nouveau Classical Project, over the past seven years. Aside from working on the creative side of it, i.e., curating, performing, directing, there is an enormous amount of unsexy work that goes on behind the scenes to execute projects and maintain the organization: fundraising, marketing, operations (one of my least favorite words…what are we, a hotdog factory?), making face time at events, coffee meetings, etc. More often than not I’m going at breakneck speed, mostly driven by ambition, but also by necessity. I work hard to make sure things get done, are well done, and people get paid, which doesn’t always allow me a lot of time to let ideas germinate or reflect on what matters to me as an artist. I have no regrets, though; having the discipline to balance all of this with a consistent practice schedule has taught me how to manage my time and allowed me to build something that’s still going strong.
Speaking of time, there’s a time and place for everything. This may not have been the right thing for me ten years ago, or perhaps I would not have understood its importance to my artistic growth and creative practice (I had piano tunnel vision; the only thing “practice” could mean to me at the time was hours on end at the instrument.) I’m a completely different person now and my priorities have changed significantly. I think now is the time where I need to engage in some much-needed experimentation, rethink my work, and immerse myself in a slow motion process propelled by questioning.
One of the projects I’m working on outside of the Fellowship is a multimedia piece with composer Trevor Gureckis and choreographer Coco Karol. It's going to involve music, movement, and projections. My stay at the A-Z West wagon station encampment in Joshua Tree was the impetus for the project so it will be incorporated into the piece. That's all I know right now. I’m purposely refraining from mapping it out too extensively at the beginning because I want to see how things unfold for a little while. Don’t get me wrong: it’ll get done and there will be a structure. After working the way I have for years this is inevitable. I just don’t know exactly what it is going to be at this moment in time, and for me, that means this project is off to a good start.
New Year's Dissolutions
New Year's Resolutions.
Happy 2016! Another year, another set of resolutions, or as I'm calling them, dissolutions. I'm not trying to exercise more (in ain't gonna happen, plus I walk everywhere in the city and I count that as a lite workout), work harder, or do more, but rather do things differently. I think I was better about maintaining a work-life balance in 2015: I actually rested on weekends (relatively speaking), made it a point to take a vacation, and rarely worked past 8 pm. I hope to continue on the trajectory of tempering my drive with taking care of my sanity.
To add to that, my 2016 resolutions are about detaching from certain habits as much as they are about adding new ones, as I'm sure many of yours are. I have just five things I want to engrain into my life more regularly:
1. Try not to stress out about things, especially when they're not happening for at least another three months. I am an over-planner, an over-thinker, and an over-anticipator. Running an organization can do that to a person, because when you're chasing money (especially applying for grants) you need to have so many ducks in a row all the time. This starts bleeding into my creativity in the respect that I aim to know everything that will happen in the future RIGHT NOW and sacrifice the process for the end goal. Which is partly why I applied for an experimental theater fellowship (more on that in a few weeks).
2. Go out dancing more. At least once a month. Because I enjoy it, and what a waste of talent! IT SHOULD NOT BE CONTAINED!
3. Spend less time in front of computer/iPhone screens. Remember when TV was considered "bad?" Maybe it still is, but I consider it a win if I watch a TV show and avoid checking social media. So my rules are:
- I can't check social media after 9:30pm (gulp)
- No screen checking during practice: I typically put my phone on "do not disturb" mode, but my phone is also my metronome, so that doesn't help. Therefore I need to get batteries for my non-internet connected metronome.
- No computer after 9:30 pm unless there's a deadline
This one is going to be difficult.
4. Pause the admin work/concert practice and carve out creative time. I need some serious studio days. I'm the worst at this. Even when there are no deadlines, I'll find some organizational thing to work on because there are always funds that need to be raised or logistics that need to be coordinated, but again, need to remind myself that it's not happening RIGHT THIS SECOND. And practicing is important but I also need time to sketch out ideas or improvise.
5. Make time to listen to music. Yes, sadly, I'm a musician but I don't think I listen to enough music. Pretty embarrassing. I don't like listening to music while walking or working, and I work from home. Thank goodness for those end-of-year music roundups...they really help me catch up!
What are some of your resolutions? If we publish them on the Internet that means they'll happen, right?
January Workshops: Launching Your Venture & Making it Rain
Werk-shops!
Are you a budding executive director, or an artistic leader looking to grow your organization? Have you exhausted Google and now need some serious guidance?
On January 23, I’ll be leading two workshops to help my fellow artists achieve their goals:
Workshop 1: Starting Something. Whether you’re starting a music ensemble, production company, or a new project, this workshop will help you get off to a good start and guide you through the nuances of what you'll need to grow your baby. We’ll discuss working with a shoestring budget, publicity and marketing, building a board, and everything else you’ll need to know at the beginning. More information here.
Workshop 2: Fundraising for Small Organizations. Because we can’t just do Kickstarter campaigns forever. Enough said there. But I will go on: we need money in order to pay artists, produce concerts, and if we're lucky, pay ourselves as artistic leaders! At this workshop we will focus on tangible ways to raise money and stay connected with our supporters. More information here.
Workshop Bundle: If you take both workshops, you’ll save 10%! Bundle links can be found on each workshop page.
Space is limited to six (6) per workshop so that I can give you the attention you need as well as answer any questions. Bring a lot of them!
Questions? Email info [at] nouveauclassical.org
Morning Musings: My Helmut Lang Sweater
My 10-year old sweater.
I interned at the Helmut Lang press office during my final semester in college, when Helmut was still at the helm. I never got to meet him; I'd miss him each time I came in. At the time Prada was taking over the company so there were personnel changes, including shutting down the in-house PR.
As a result, my internship didn't last very long and I got this cream-colored sweater as a parting gift. I feel lucky to have this sartorial souvenir, both because I love the design and it's one of the last pieces from the Helmut Lang label when it was led by the designer himself. I remember the entire collection at the time being nautically inspired, with rope-like drawstrings and accents reminiscent of bubbles. This bulbous knit piece makes me look a little pregnant but I don't mind. Along the neckline it has buttons and button holes that can be connected in a variety of ways.
For a while I didn't know how to wear this. I think I tried to control it a little too much: I would essentially try to wear this sweater like I would a typical sweater, but that's impossible because it is odd and bulky, in the stomach area of all places. Once I realized I needed to work with its undulating, wavy form and embrace its awkwardness rather than fight it by trying to flatten the torso area, it started to make sense.
I've had this sweater for over ten years (along with my Meredith Burns sequined dress) and I like to wear it repetitively in the winter. I've sort of formed a bond with it, which may seem like a silly thing to say about a piece of clothing, but can you blame me? We have history.
I'll get to the piano right after I...
Procrastination station.
1. Make tea/coffee/have another snack
I'll need the energy!
2. Cut my nails (even though they are sufficiently short)
Don't wanna be sliding around on the keys!
3. Sharpen a pencil
Yes, I still use wooden pencils.
4. Coco
My cat needs to be fed and cuddled!
5. Tweet/Instagram
I am my own publicist, so this is necessary!
6. Watch an animal video, i.e., a porcupine typing while wearing glasses
They're all over my feed! Which I guess means I'm also on social media when I should be at the piano.. See # 5.
7. Write a blog post
...
How do you like to prep-crastinate before you practice? Comments!
From East to A-Z West
My week in a wagon station.
I got home from A-Z West last night at around midnight. A-Z West is a magical wagon station encampment located in Joshua Tree created by artist Andrea Zittel. Guests are invited to stay in the wagons, contribute as community members, and reflect. It can essentially be whatever you want it to be; for me, it was a respite, a self-created residency, and an opportunity to live with nature. After I had read about Andrea and A-Z West in The Gentlewoman this past May, I immediately put in a letter of intent. I just HAD to go, come hell or high water! Long story short, I even re-learned how to drive after ten years and expedited my driver’s license test so I could take my butt from the airport to the desert. Luckily, I passed on the first try, which was just three weeks ago!
I had applied to come in late October, after the NCP Gala craziness. I knew I would want to get out right after this huge, annual undertaking. I have also had a persistent feeling for the last year: that I need to get out of the city more and that maintaining my sanity needs to be a top priority. It may sound as if I am stating the obvious, but at the top of my list for the past ten years or so has been to build my career. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, since there is a time and place for everything, and I think one’s 20s is good a time to go full force career-wise while one has the energy and is willing to put up with a little more bullshit (which I believe is a part of growing; it eliminates a sense of entitlement and we all have to pay our dues). I’m not winding down in any way, and I have found that taking a break does not mean stopping, not in the least. I have been at a point for a little while now where I have control over my own schedule and now I have realized that taking time off from normal life isn’t just a vacation; it’s an essential part of my artistic practice and living life.
Here is as much as I can remember in a (photo-filled!) nutshell about this transformative, restorative trip. I didn’t want to blog every day or post on social media because I wanted to be fully present in the experience (although I did sneak in a few ‘grams).
RESIDEN-Z
Because I not only creative direct but also produce NCP’s projects, I am a serious planner. I’d even go as far to say over-planner, to the point where I don’t have the time and space to be as creative and imaginative and I think I am capable of being. There is always a deadline or premiere date I have to meet. For A-Z West, I decided to make a short film since it isn’t my usual medium, thus eliminating my inhibitions, and I have an iPhone 6 Plus. For the score, I’m working with my trusty and talented collaborator, composer Trevor Gureckis. More details on the project at a later time! In the meantime, here are my tools of the trade in addition to my iPhone:
1. Tripod and Selfie Stick: I had purchased a dual selfie stick/tripod at the Apple store at the recommendation of one of the employees. It was $60 and I thought I could do something more cost efficient, so the next day I went to Best Buy and bought a $30 tripod and used the removable adaptor from a selfie stick I already had. Plus this tripod expanded to a way taller height than the one from Apple, so I returned the $60 tripod.
2. Mbira: Loaned to me by my friend, percussionist Joe Tucker of The Curiosity Cabinet!
3. olloclip 4-in-1 Photo Lens: includes fisheye, wide-angle, macro 10x and macro 15x lenses and clips on to the iPhone.
4. Filmic Pro App: Got it because I heard that Sundance Movie Tangerine was filmed with it and an iPhone 5.
DRIVING…MYSELF CRAZY
I flew in to Palm Springs airport because I did not fly all this way just to sit in traffic. Flying to LAX would have been $100 cheaper but would also take over two hours longer to get to Yucca Valley. Plus I wanted to make things as simple as possible since I hadn't driven in over ten years. My two moments of panic: 1) Google Maps GPS took a hot minute to start talking and I phoned a friend, then hung up when it started talking (“K it’s talking gotta go bye!”), and 2) trying to find my car after stepping foot into a Walmart for the first time. (Walmart in and of itself is a culture shock.) Phoned same friend while pushing the cart in one hand, voice cracking: “Did my car get towed? I’m pressing unlock and it’s not beeping! Why did I do this? I feel so stupid, I’m so dumb!”
Found the car and headed to A-Z West. Then I got to the dirt road after nearly missing it! I was so excited:
Also I have to say: I’m a pretty damn good driver!
WS 07
What can I say, the pictures say it all. I loved my wagon. The shelf held my clothes, toiletries, notebooks, and there was room at the foot of the mattress for my laptop bag and more. There was a hat, a cleaning brush, and canvas shades to hang on the pod, and hooks to hang anything else. In addition to the hatch, one could also enter and exit through the back door.
One of things I hoped to accomplish, or at least ameliorate, is my fear of the dark. I had no problem sleeping the first night. I found the compact size of the pod comforting because I could see all of my surroundings. I think I was also just so excited to be there.
It got dark early, especially after Daylight Savings Time, so I would often be in bed by around 20:00 and get up a little before 6:00.
ALONE BUT NOT LONELY
I met some really wonderful people at A-Z West. We all had different disciplines: photography, sculpture, music, painting, dance, and even shamanism. The morning of my second day I met Rachel Bujalski, who is doing a compelling multimedia photo project “Connected off the Grid”, which is about people who live off the grid but still remain connected through technology. Rachel is super cool, resourceful, and inspiring. I got to sit in her makeshift car bed en route to the farmer’s market.
Our whole group often engaged in conversation, especially when we would spontaneously gather in the communal kitchen during mealtimes. It was great to be disconnected from our phones and chat. Granted, we weren’t so remote that we didn’t have 3G or cell service, but we weren’t staring at our phones the whole time (I put mine on airplane mode). There was also a lot of space to be alone and it wasn’t rude or awkward to leave the group to do your own thing. We also seemed to all be naturally in sync with our group vs. alone time. (Kind of like when a group of friends have synchronized period cycles.)
I really adore the people I ended up with at the camp. I don’t know whether is was because Zittel and her staff did an amazing job of selecting participants or if I just got lucky, but on some level I felt like I could relate with my fellow encampment members, even though we were quite different from one another: for example, Anders “roughs it” on the regular and his cat is outdoor while mine is indoor (although I LOVE ALL CATS), Raven reads people’s energies (so cool), and Ester is three years old (I wanted to pack her in my
suitcase). Perhaps just having the opportunity to keep talking to each other a regularly allowed us to find common ground as well as take genuine interest in one another’s lives.
HOUR OF POWER
This is one of the things I am taking home with me. The Hour of Power is the communal work hour when we clean or do any work required to maintain the encampment. It’s fun because it’s a scheduled social activity, and having a clean space rocks! While I may not be able to do a daily hour of power, I plan to do it either three times a week or do a half hour every other day. In fact, I just thoroughly cleaned my bathroom before sitting down to write this post.
No Hour of Power on the weekends, just like A-Z West!
HALLOWEEN IN PIONEER TOWN
I haven’t dressed up for Halloween since about 8 years ago. I tagged along with Rachel to a Burning Man-esque party in Pioneer Town, hosted by a delightfully rugged, connected-off-the-grid artist named Cain Motter. There were amazing visuals projected onto Cain’s dome-shaped building, various walls, and even on a Joshua Tree, a tour bus whose roof we could dance on, a trailer with sleeping accommodations, and an outdoor “hall” of previously burned Joshua Trees-turned-sculpture by artist Steve “Shig” Shigley. People were dressed in amazing costumes and I noticed that people didn’t have their phones out. I found a cool mask at Walmart labeled “Enchanted Forest Creature” and wore it with a dress I had purchased from my friend, sustainable fashion designer Titania Inglis, for my short film. We danced our faces off and met so many friendly people. I was impressed by the lack of pretension and how Cain and his friends organized this simply to create a fun and worthwhile experience for their community.
PICTURES GALORE!
This post could easily get really long, since A-Z West is all I can think of or talk about right now, so rather than read more ramblings, here are pictures.
"S-V EAST"
I may not live in the desert, but I hope to incorporate a calmer and more thoughtful sense of living into both my personal life and artistic practice. For me, one truly affects the other and are one and the same, for better or for worse. Chaos and stress are all too easy to create so I don’t think I need to conjure up those things in order for me to be creative or productive. I am naturally driven and I am in a competitive field that forces me to meet deadlines, chase money, produce. My self-motivated, work-consumed self will always exist and I need to find the spaces, the cracks, where some light, air, and creative ideas can seep through.
I am so grateful to Andrea Zittel for putting this together. A-Z West is such an inspirational act of giving that I hope I can pay forward someday. And thanks to Woobie, our wonderful guide and encampment manager for her hard work and not telling me I’m an idiot when I couldn’t find my way back in the dark!
Morning Musings: a New Agenda
Getting punny.
It is Saturday morning, the weekend before The Nouveau Classical Project’s Lucky 7 Benefit Gala, our biggest and best one yet. I was thinking about how much more sane and calm I feel this year, relatively speaking, compared to previous years. It could be because it is our third gala as opposed to the first and we have more hands on deck this year. However, as I mentioned, this gala is going to be significantly larger in scale, so the production process has been equally intense, and managing a team, while a blessing, is a whole new job in and of itself. I think that I have become better at dealing stress partly because I have become increasingly aware of how important it is to not let stress eat me up alive.
This epiphany came to me in the midst of gala madness...the part that involves going back to Paper Source multiple times in one week.
I had been in the market for a planner since my current one at the time did not have enough space for the entire year (what were these people thinking?) and it was one of those blank ones where you had to fill in the date yourself, which is why I was unaware of this ridiculous design flaw. So I started browsing planners and I saw this flowery one by ban.do. I started flipping through it and I loved how organized and functional it was on the inside, with monthly and weekly pages and tabs for each month, and the way it was bound like a book. Naturally, my self-conscious side took over and I thought, no. I wouldn’t dress this way and this does not reflect who I am: strong, tough, and diligent. This looks like it was designed for ladies who lunch. Women who get mani-pedis every weekend.* NOT ME.
But I couldn’t put the thing down. It was just so much fun to look through (every week had a surprise fun task on the bottom such as “Blow a giant bubble!” or “Karaoke”), but it was also extremely functional. I really wanted it! I justified my desire by reverting to hipster logic: the design is so ridiculous and not me that I have to get it. SO IRONIC! As I approached the cash wrap I also asked the saleswoman for her opinion, and she said, “I actually love that planner!” Validation from another woman helped.
As soon as I had a moment to sit down, I started writing in the planner. I also wanted to check out the other products ban.do offered and then immediately regretted my purchase because I saw this:
I thought, “This is the planner I need to be seen carrying around! This reflects ME! I AM very busy!” It was already too late to return the one I had just purchased…plus I actually liked the cover design, even though I didn’t want to initially admit it. After a few moments I asked myself, “Do I really need a reminder about how busy I am?” The answer is no. What I really need is to calm the f*** down and maybe stop being so cynical.
An aside: personally speaking, I feel vulnerable whenever I represent myself in a way that is feminine, hence the decline of dresses and skirts in my closet over the past ten years. But every now and then one creeps in, because you can’t deny great design or feeling amazing after seeing how a well-tailored dress looks on you in a mirror, despite your reservations. Pants and masculine notebooks have almost become an armor and shield for me to convey that I am serious as opposed to an airhead. It’s been a little limiting to express myself creatively through fashion with these constraints, and I have recently felt a strong desire to resurrect some semblance of the quirkier, fearless style I had when I was younger and living in the East Village. My ban.do planner is a first step.
Back to that: leafing through the book, writing plans, placing stickers on pages (did I mention it came with stickers?), along with the bright colors, really help me relax. I’ve now decided that the feeling of “happy” is a determining factor when choosing what to place in my home office since I will likely be looking at it almost all the time. I don’t need a reminder of how much I have going on; I’m constantly reminded, if not nagged. What I need is to be mindful of my mental well-being. As an artist still at the beginning of my career, life often feels as if its full of nonstop anxiety, or just nonstop in general. Being extremely self-driven is central to staying on this path, but sometimes you just need to stop and smell the paper neon roses.
*Who am I kidding. I would if I could. Lunch and mani-pedis, yes please!
P.S. I prefer using paper planners more than digital ones because I love paper (not to mention “that new paper smell”), tactile sensation of writing, and seeing all my plans for the week and month spread out in front of me. Do you prefer paper or digital? Tell me your thoughts in the comments!
WAA Day 2: I Miss My Cat
I always miss my cat when we're not in the same room.
After dinner* on day 1, Isabel and I headed back to our hotel room to gather intel (aka Google presenters and review their programming) in order to figure out how to talk about NCP and our upcoming projects. During this planning process, my deep-set insecurities as a musician/artist/leader of a fashion-oriented ensemble rose to the surface and I said, “I hate this,” to which Isabel replied, “This is fun!” I'm glad at least one of us thought so. Although I had recovered from my blunders during Speed Leads earlier in the day, my confidence was still slightly shot. (However, it did give me a whole new appreciation for those who support NCP.) A couple of thoughts crossed my mind:
• We should trash these booklets I spent weeks creating…they’re absolutely useless…useless!
• Maybe NCP can just perform in New York forever
• I should have brought my cat
• We need to get this down STAT or I’m going to fuck up during the interview at the Juried Showcase
Which brings me to the Juried Showcase. Each Launchpad artist was going to be interviewed for a brief three minutes at the event, which was a great opportunity to introduce our ensemble to presenters and managers, but it being so short meant that clarity was key. Making NCP sound interesting has never been a problem; describing it in a clear, concise manner has been a challenge. It always ends up being a mouthful, doesn't flow, and I’m pretty sure I’ve revised our bio about fifty times. As I mentioned in my previous post, we decided to describe ourselves as “a contemporary music ensemble that incorporates visual elements.”
We came ready with our notebooks, brochures, business cards, and our new, quick NCP description. And it worked! At our presenter meetings the next day, no confusing looks. Who knew that eight simple words would make me 100x less anxious? And after the initial one-sentence intro, we would delve into fashion and the multidisciplinary nature of our major projects. Now that we had gotten through these smoothly, I was ready for my three minutes in the limelight.
JURIED SHOWCASE
I won’t go into depth about my interview, because it was pretty uneventful and it went well. Isabel and I didn’t stay for the entire showcase, but we did have a chance to see a world music band, two theater groups, and two classical music ensembles perform. What I found interesting was that both of the classical ensembles had verbal sales pitches during their performance: one group gave a speech about outreach and having no boundaries (each member would take turns saying different parts of the pitch) and the other mentioned how they play in alternative venues and effectively draw audiences. Both also engaged in crossover projects in addition to their regular programming: one group did Radiohead arrangements (surprise!) and the other collaborated with a DJ to remix music they had commissioned. The speeches, combined with the crossover offerings, gave me the impression that there may be a sense of insecurity when it comes to programming classical music in the presenting world, and these ensembles are offering possible solutions. I didn’t find any of it particularly inspiring and in fact had a strong aversion to one of the performances. (For the record, I respect both of these ensembles as fellow musicians; their style just isn’t my cup of tea.) I thought, is this what we have to do to get booked?
This is a thought that often crosses my mind, as an artist whose responsibility it is to manage the growth of an ensemble and wants their ensemble to go places! It’s not the way an artist should think. Strategy is smart, but I’d rather we perform in fewer cities doing what we do best rather than add formulaic programming that works on presenters. Also, from what I’ve heard, touring isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. A little more on that in my next post.
As usual, I got over the feelings of self-doubt pretty quickly. Thankfully, Isabel agreed that hell no, NCP will not be doing any Radiohead arrangements anytime soon. Unless Radiohead themselves wanted to take us on tour with them/record with them. TOTALLY different story.
We left to explore some of Gastown, where the showcase had taken place, so we headed out wearing our dorky badges (thanks to the shop worker at Old Faithful Shop for reminding us with an enthusiastic, “Hey, Isabel!!!”) and went to dinner at a restaurant that reminded us of home. All I wanted to achieve for that day was to get through the meetings and my three-minute interview, which I did, and to top it off I tried poutine for the first time and had cake for dessert. It was a good day.
* Sushi in Vancouver is AMAZING. We dined at a moderately priced Japanese restaurant and the fish that was served was exceptionally fresh and high quality; we could cut through it with our chopsticks.
WAA Day 1: Deer in Headlights
The title says it all.
As I had mentioned in my first post, I had some idea of what to expect after seeing how fashion trade shows worked. I was not expecting a crowd at The Nouveau Classical Project booth, since I figured most of the attendees had scheduled meetings beforehand, but I also didn't expect to hear crickets. Over at the Launchpad corner, it was just me and Isabel most of the time, our fellow Launchpadders MIA. I figured people would at least browse the booths, but there was not much of that in our empty corner. For heaven's sake, we were CHOSEN to be here! Isn't anyone interested in meeting us?! Apparently not...even after sending out dozens of e-mails mentioning that we were part of WAA's Launchpad, I only received about five responses. Launchpad did not equal street cred. I also heard that people were scheduling meetings even farther out in advance, so I'm sure that these presenters were also extremely busy and needed to prioritize. Luckily, the conference was three days long and there would be time and in-person opportunities to make connections and schedule more meetings.
SPEED LEADS
One of the activities I signed up for was Speed Leads. It's like speed dating, but with six presenters and one artist or manager at a table, and no one is horny and only one of us gives a shit about making a good impression. Each artist or manager gets two minutes to pitch a project to six presenters at each of the four tables without the help of any printed collateral or iPads. I came into this with confidence, as I'm a naturally social person (hell, I've even made projects happen from chance meetings at parties), and the project I was pitching was so obviously a winner: a multimedia piece with a Rome Prize-winning composer who was recently awarded a major commission for the project. Although it would have helped, I don't think practicing my pitch would have saved me, as we later learned that the project was too complex/very "New York", but I would have at least felt like I did a decent job. Anyway, the nerves immediately kicked in: I began by introducing NCP, saw the perplexed looks on everyone's faces, and then thought, shit I'm running out of time already, and so I jumped into "55-minute multimedia project with Rome Prize-winning composer Nina C. Young...<bumbling, bumbling>...integrates music, fashion worn on musicians, choreography, kinetic sound sculpture..." and as soon as the word "Anthropocene" spilled out of my mouth, I felt like everything was in slow motion and I had an out of body experience where I was like, "Nooooooooo!" Confused looks everywhere (later learned a lot of people do not know what the Rome Prize is, nor do they care), needed to explain the term "Anthropocene", then TIME! For the first two tables I basically bombed but by the third and fourth, I better understood how to pitch. While I couldn't avoid saying "Anthropocene", I figured out which order to explain the many elements of the project, and actually remembered to distribute my business cards. (By the way--props to Stephen Seifert from University of Denver for knowing what the Anthropocene is!) The reaction from the final two tables was significantly more positive than the first two. Being a former volleyball player, I know how to shake off a bad play and regrouped immediately. I started saying "concert" to provide greater clarity. In my mind, a "concert" sounds ordinary; I've noticed artists, including myself, using terms like "hybrid works" or "multidisciplinary" and at this conference, I found that these descriptors just confuse presenters.
Granted, one usually gets more than two minutes to pitch a project, and while discussing a potential performance doesn't typically take place in this weird Shark Tank-esque setting, I still think this exercise was helpful. I'm used to having to explain projects on paper to grant makers, and as with this presenter situation, it requires immediate clarity since you often need a one-sentence description at the start. However, in this two-minute space without any visual aids, you have paint a picture immediately with words.
YOU DO YOU...BUT A YOU THAT DOESN'T MAKE YOU SOUND TOO WEIRD
The name of the game for this first day was How to be Crystal Clear Without Scaring Away Presenters. And the way you do that is by NOT sounding too unique. Or by reframing unique to mean interesting but accessible/familiar in the context of an arts conference. After attempting to describe NCP in our usual way to booth visitors, we realized that the fashion element was something that people would get fixated on and required way more explanation than was necessary. So we decided that the best thing to say is that we're a contemporary music ensemble that incorporates visual elements. To us, that sounds like something everybody is doing, but here, it was a good thing because it's something the presenters were familiar with. This was one of the most eye-opening, and quite frankly, disconcerting things for me: the level of accessibility we had to provide with our introduction. But I get it: presenters need to fill seats and they need to feel like they're making a sound investment.
By the end of the day I felt a little discouraged and less like an artist. It's not sexy to have to think about how to downplay a major part of your identity. My team and I had created booklets with visuals, a cool vellum cover, and I felt like I had fucked up by featuring projects that I thought were compelling, but now looked too complex and not simple enough. Plus I have a project I'm working on where I'm going to explore new territory, directing a hybrid project and digging into my Filipino roots, and my head was clouded with the idea that there is clearly no space in this world for that kind of project. (I tend to have intense reactions to negative experiences, but I get over them pretty quickly). As an artist in New York, one is encouraged to take risks. In fact, it seems like risk-taking is commonplace: nudity is acceptable and there is abundance of multidisciplinary work. Not everywhere is New York, as Isabel and I learned. A lot of the feedback was that some of our projects work in New York and not everywhere else. Well, I grew up in a town called "El Sobrante" that means "the leftovers" in Spanish, and I'm pretty sure there are some people in the middle of nowhere that would love something new, and even strange, to come to their town.
While it's important to stick to your guns, I think there's a way to finesse your way into presenters that might be initially hesitant; for example, the way we stopped emphasizing fashion in our elevator pitch. It doesn't change what we do but new contacts are less likely to shut down. And like audiences and grant makers, there's no way in hell to please everyone, and it is possible to find those who share your vision. There were way more than the 24 presenters that were in that Speed Lead session at WAA, including people who were receptive to what we do. Things looked up after Day 1.