Some inspiration from a book recently brought to my attention by one of my adult students. Share your thoughts!

"Some people think it is too late to learn to play an instrument because they feel they will never 'get good' at it. But that is based on the misconception that art is primarily about accomplishing something and gaining skill. Actually, art is about exploring and creating. For that, it's never too late. 

"Creating is not performing, but exploring. To create is to enjoy the adventure within this moment. It is not being concerned with how far we have traveled or how much we have accomplished, but being willing to take a new path, embrace challenges, and become a beginner all over again. As the years go by, we become more knowledgeable and skillful and impressive, but a creative person looks at the challenges ahead rather than the accomplishments behind, and is forever curious about what can be discovered in the moment unfolding itself. What we can discover in music (and ourselves) is infinite. To those who enjoy creating music, that's something quite wonderful. After all, when we are intensely enjoying a movie or book, don't we wish it would never end?"

(From "Pattern Play, Book 1" by Akiko & Forrest Kinney, published by The Frederick Harris Music Co., Limited)

One of the things I love about springtime is the opportunity to keep our windows open. I love being able to hear the sounds from outside filling the interior of our home. Voices of people talking as they walk the Rail Trail path behind our house; birds singing myriad songs; bees working in the new blossoms; even traffic passing on the street below. In the winter I feel sound-starved. The quiet of the closed-up winter has ended and the world of sound is back!

Some years ago my friend and fellow musician David Key introduced me to a book by composer-pianist-philosopher W.A Mathieu called "The Listening Book: Discovering Your Own Music". It's a book of reflections and exercises that seeks to expand our awareness and sensitivity to the sounds in our world (including music). 

When I was teaching high school music theory I used one chapter in particular as an assignment each year. That chapter is titled "Symphonies of Place". For Mathieu a "Symphony of Place" is "created" as one listens deeply and writes down every sound that can be heard. As examples he includes two "symphonies of place" in the chapter, one at his home and one in downtown Santa Rosa, California. While many of us would hear 10 sounds Mathieu, through attentiveness, notes 20-30. 

Here is the exercise from his book. Give it a whirl! Then try the same as you listen to some music.

Symphonies of Place
"Get a pencil and paper. Become aware of all the sounds you are hearing now, this moment, as you read. Make a list of them. Close your eyes from time to time. Swivel your head slightly to change the mix. Make a sweep from nearby sounds to distant sounds. Fall into the distance. Become transparent. Now fall into the nearness. Make a sweep from the highest sounds to the lowest ones. Disappear into the stratosphere, reappear underground. If your space is quiet enough you will hear your own internal sounds: breathing, maybe your blood in your ears. Or the subtle sounds of cloth against cloth, skin against skin. Count everything; write everything down. Use words economically. Later, if you like, you can set the scene and go into detail.
Now make your sweeps into scans so rapid that you have the illusion of hearing everything at once. Now close your eyes and hear everything at once. Now cup your hands behind your ears. Technicolor!
This is the sound of your now, your Symphony of Place."

(From "The Listening Book" by W.A. Mathieu, published by Shambhala Press, 1991)

One of my favorite days when I'm teaching a music theory class is when I ask my students to define "music". How do we pare music down to its essence and find a common definition that we can agree upon and that will apply to any style? What a challenge! 
First it is usually agreed that music is sound. But how does it differ from noise or random sounds? We then usually agree that music is sound that is intentionally organized using various elements. The most apparent of those elements are melody, harmony and rhythm. A more elusive element to discern is form, and it is present in all music.
Music occurs in time, so the beginning and ending moments provide the overall framework. At the very least the music will have a beginning and an end. Some music is what we call "through-composed" without having sections that repeat. It simply will begin at one moment in time, and end at another.  
But most music that we hear consists of sections that repeat mixed with sections of contrast. It's common to label each section with a letter to indicate the form. Some common forms are: ABA, AABA, ABACADA (etc.), AB (or verse-chorus). And there can be smaller forms within the overall form. And within the forms and subforms are melodies, harmonies and rhythms that repeat and vary, further adding structure to the music. 
Melody, harmony, rhythm and form. As you listen to music try to become aware of and identify its formal structure. What are the sections that repeat? What are the sections that are varied? You'll find it in music from pop songs to symphonies. 
Happy listening!

A note from artist Helen Miranda Wilson: "You know that tune 'Honeysuckle Rose'? It came on the radio while I was making that painting. Plus the honeysuckle was blooming in the back yard. Its scent was wafting through the window. Repetition and variation: it's all I do, for years now. It's what breathing is."

As a musical performer I've always been intrigued by musical styles and the challenge of authentically playing in a given style. What makes classical music sound classical, rock sound rock, etc.? 
Style implies uniformity, an overall set of rules or standards. Then, within those sets of rules, it's the subtle differences, the rearranging of order, the little twists and turns that a particular composer or performer takes that make each piece in that style unique and interesting. Repetition and variation.
A criticism sometimes levied at an unfamiliar or disliked style of music is that "It all sounds the same". Well, in fact, it does. That's what a style is supposed to do - repeat itself. But once we are familiar with the individual pieces within a style we can become immersed in the unique subtleties of each piece or performance and focus on the variations. The repetition provides form and familiarity while the variation provides interest.
For a non-musical example, when I toured Korea with the Rhode Island Saxophone Quartet it took me about three days before I stopped getting the names of our Korean hosts wrong. There was a uniformity to their appearance that at first struck me as "all the same". When I was finally able to perceive the uniqueness and subtle differences of each person in the group I no longer got their names mixed up.
For a musical example, cool jazz and hip hop are often perceived as very relaxed and laid back styles. They definitely have that vibe to them, but they are very precisely relaxed and laid back. There are very specific things that the musician must do to achieve that feeling. A style of rock music might be described as "driving"; something classical might be "expansive". How is all that achieved? 
To perform as authentically as possible in a given style I need to discover the uniform characteristics of the style as well as the subtleties of the differences. Repetition and variation.

There's an old computer in my cellar that hasn't been used in about six years. I am ready to recylce it but there are some valuable music files I don't want to lose that are stored on discs that can only be opened by programs that are on this computer. They include the arrangements from my first few North Star Jazz Ensemble recordings and some other files as well. Today I brought it up from the dark, turned it on and took a trip down computer memory lane.....
The computer case offered a friendly "HI" when I turned on the power. Then it took about five minutes for the computer to boot up to Windows 98. It seemed like an eternity compared to today's computers which seem to boot up instantly in comparison. What did I used to do with all that extra time?
It smelled musty, and the fan made a loud whirring sound. The monitor is an old CRT type that weighs about 20 pounds, cumbersome and heavy compared to today's LED flatscreens. The mouse has a tracking ball which requires a pad and occasional cleaning that was standard before today's optical devices.
Once in Windows 98, I had to open up an old DOS (Disk Operating System, the PC's precursor to Windows) program called MusicPrinter Plus to view my files. Surprisingly, a few of those old DOS commands came back to me and I was able to negotiate my way to the old files. I remember how amazing this program was when I first used it. Before that I had written all my music with pen and ink using a wide calligraphy nib. With MusicPrinter Plus I was using what the creators referred to as an "Essential tool for the creative musician." And it was wonderful compared to writing everything out by hand without the cut-and-paste editing capabilities of a computer-based program. Seeing it today after many years it seemed archaic compared to today's programs.
The files were stored on "floppy" disks, but these were the smaller, firmer type that came after the really big earlier disks that were actually floppy. I copied them from the disks to the hard drives, then turned the system off and removed them.
I have ordered a USB adapter that will hopefully allow me to read the drives on my newer Windows 7 computer. But I remember how this old technology was at the cutting edge one day. I am glad that things have progressed to where they are and I love the new operating system and programs that have become the mainstay of my business and daily life. It's exciting to imagine where we'll be ten years from now. But it was fun to visit the past for a little while with my old computer that, despite all its shortcomings, is still a lot faster than I am!