After decades of wishing, the composition program at the UCLA Department of Music now has a Composition for Visual Media track in its Masters degree. In its second year, we have started slowly and accepted only two per year–although we plan to expand to eight or so.
And after decades of wishing, we now have a very nice bridge between the Department of Music and the Department of Film––as it should be, but for years, it was out of commission.
Today I met with the Chair of the Film program who has two terrific projects funded by major donors (I’ll let her reveal that information when it’s time). The first project involves eight, three-minute animated films on various themes funded by a well known animator; and the second is about global education, told in three-minute films, made by the UCLA Grad students in film, and UCLA student composers.
These relationships are so important in the growth of both artists––learning how to collaborate. For composers used to the dictatorship of the classical world, we must get used to rewrites: “Sorry Roger; it’s a lovely piece of music, it just doesn’t work for this scene. I need you to try again.” Composers must smile and get to work without attitude.
If the director is not especially music-savvy, and he has met a composer with whom s/he is simpatico, very often, they stay together. Think: Henri Mancini and Blake Edwards; John Williams and Steven Spielberg; Tim Burton and Danny Elfman, and so on.
Tossing your students together like this, knowing that something fabulous is going to happen, is one of the great joys of teaching.
In an area known as “Music Education” which, for Schools, Conservatories, and Departments of Music means K through 12, there appears to be a national problem. Potentially gifted teachers may not always be the best performers: sometimes yes, sometimes no–and vice versa. So the question arises: if instrumental lessons are required of all future K-12 teachers, from who can they study? Teachers have limits on the size of their studios, and insist on the best student performers; taking a music education “major” who is below the level of many students that were just denied due to lack of space, seems unfair to all those that were rejected, but better performers.
One solution is to have music education majors come from the performers already admitted who are already at a high performance level. Another is to have doctoral students teach the undergraduate MusEd majors. The problem with that is the perceived “upstairs-downstairs” of it all. The best solution is to just hire more teachers; but if you add one more for every instrument in the orchestra, that is a LOT more faculty–That is quite a challenge in slimming-down times.
There are stories of famously fabulous teachers who never performed, and amazing musicians or composers who are terrible teachers.
It’s a puzzlement.
After going through several rooms filled with musical instruments, we have discovered a wide variety of instruments in various conditions and of widely varying value. I was deighted that several instruments previously thought to have been missing were found.
This week we found a blue baritone saxophone. It will go with the milk green UCLA Les Paul guitar that we found this summer. We found a Wagner tuba in fairly good shape and two more that had been poorly repaired decades ago; a rediscovered a set of instruments given to us by the late Jack Lord (Hawaii Five-0), including 3 old Martin guitars, 3 old 4-string banjos, and 2 wonderful old mandolins–a “The Martin” and a Washburn; a treasure trove of historic autoharps; and a number of clarinets that even our clarinet teacher didn’t know about. As I reported a few weeks ago, going through all these instruments with the faculty has been like going through your grandparents’ attic. Everyone loved it.
As I reported these wonderful finds to the faculty in our meeting yesterday, I saw the voice faculty looking glum. Michael Dean spoke up: “Did you find any tenors?” The faculty roared with laughter.
Although I have praised UCLA’s decision to be three separate music departments, sometimes it’s a pain in the butt. Take, for instance, our new terrific core class. There are six musicianship sections, divided by their musical abilities. On Tuesday I discovered that there are actually 18 sections. Each of the six sections has three subsections dependent upon their department. So, while AJ Racy was lecturing on trance and ecstacy in music, yours truly got to sit outside the lecture hall, enrolling students into their damn sections. “What department are you? What section are you in? What is your PTE number? Uh, ok, let me find it. Ok, here it is. Now what it your student ID” and I had to do that 90 times. Sheesh. As Monty Python says: MY BRAIN HURTS.
As it has been the beginning of classes (yes, we begin later than most), there are constant fires burning everywhere that the Chair gets to put out. After Monday and Tuesday I was emotionally exhausted. I have decided to take Wednesdays off and work from home to get me through the week.
Yesterday I caught up on zillions of overdue emails, creating committees, and making reports. Today, I go from 10 am through 8 pm. Friday is our first faculty meeting, and I have to do our taxes this weekend.
I flash forward to my retirement and won’t miss busy times like this. I think about being a composer and wonder how in the past I’ve composed a musical or a film score while teaching and being chair. I guess that where there’s a will, there’s a way. I look forward to a bit less busyness.
School started with a bang at UCLA.
The first day featured a faculty strike, with students and staff encouraged to join in. Robert Winter put it succinctly: “I’ve waited for 25 years to teach this class; you think I’m gonna strike?” — this referring to our new first year core course offered for the first time. This term I am joined by Robert Winter, as well as ethnomusicologist, A.J. Racy. All majors in performance, composition, music education, music history, world music, and jazz are required to take this one year team taught class. (By the way: we didn’t strike, nor did the students.)
On the first day, Winter set the tone for the course, explaining what were about to do, and setting the ground rules for the course. They, I coordinated a “getting to know you” session. Each student said: “My name is [their name], I play the bassoon and I am from San Francisco. An interesting thing I’d like you to know about me is [I am an Ultimate Frisbee expert].” We got through 90 students, the TAs and the teachers. Then the class closed with AJ Racy who will continue his talk on Tuesday.
On Saturday night, I hosted a party for the three music departments. A good group showed up and we had a blast. The young’s and a few oldsters as well, played Wii downstairs. Lots of cross departmental zapping occurred which is always a good thing.
Today, I ran the combined musicianship classes while the TAs worked to divide the 90-some students into six sections, each one divided by musicianship ability. We tried this for the first time last year and it worked quite well.
As I mentioned a few weeks back, I have been going through our considerable collection of musical instruments with our performance faculty, evaluating which ones have curriular value, which ones can be used by our Music Fundamentals in Music Education classes, and which ones are valuable and should be sold. Everyone has enjoyed the “going through the attic” experience, expressing surprise as they find some real treasures.
It is thrilling to see supercharged, ready-to-teach teachers, and the excited students ready to learn. No one is thinking about the terrible California budget; the educational process is alive and well at UCLA, and we are thrilled to be a part of it.
I spent a total of three days this week going through old musical instruments in three different rooms at school. We were dumbfounded to find the most amazing instruments: viols, sackbuts, shawms, recorders, and many other well-known early music instruments, but the most amazing discovery was a Cecilium. The most lovable, if not slightly homely instrument I’ve ever seen. It’s a cross between an harmonium, a proto-accordian, and a cello (sic). I found an image of one, but ours is actually a bit older. There were only 310 of them made, and ours was likely one of the earliest. Here is a French video of one. (You have to wait through a minute of reporting.)
In another room, I went through our extensive violin, viola and cello collection and found quite a large number of 17th and 18th century instruments whose value has likely appreciated. Although we have an inventory of most of the instruments, there were some beautiful instruments, new and old, tucked away in corners, behind boxes, hidden in locked cabinets, that were unidentified and not in the inventory. I am no expert or conservator, but one of our staff members who has expertise, and I have carefully locked them away in a humidity-controlled room. We will be hiring a museum scientist to go over all these beauties and advise us on their condition and worth. You can imagine what a joy it has been spending time with these beautiful old instruments. And who knew that being a Chair could occasionally be like a Hardy Boys episode?
After a week of crafting possible cuts to our department’s budget, I drove up to the beautiful Lake Arrowhead area to attend an annual meeting, whose sole purpose is to give seed money to innovative curricular ideas. We arrived on Friday night; had cocktails and a lovely dinner, followed by a short meeting, and then we all retired to our rooms to finish reading the 36 proposals. Saturday morning and early afternoon were spent sitting around a large square table discussing each one.
As we finished early, I called Ronnie Rubin to see whether, by chance, she was in Palm Springs. I was tired of being cold and in the mountains. To my delight she was free and single. We went out for a lovely dinner, strolled down the main drag, I bought a new very cool rubber and stainless steel bracelet, and we drove home. I drove back to LA early on Sunday; Ronnie stayed to watch two more movies and returned at night.
I returned to grading 51 analyses by my students of pop songs of their choices, along with the YouTube link. I found I could only grade around 8 or 9 at a time, as listening, analyzing, and grading each song was exhausting. I have to admit that I loved the opportunity to assign and grade this project. The students learned from it as well.
At the same time, the midterm project for the class was to record and perform an original composition that features a falling bass line. It could be for (and was) for any instrumentation, and in any style. Then, they had to convert the file to an mp3, upload it to the class website, and then comment on each other’s pieces (which they did). Then in class this week, we listened to them all, and I gave brief critiques to each of the students. This was a delicate process as for most, this was the first time they had ever had a performance in front of peers. I consoled them before we began: “I know that for some of you, today might be like those dreams where you are naked in front of the class (or workmates) and can’t do anything about it. But hang in there.” The comments that the students made on the website were always helpful, collegial, encouraging and friendly.
I found out from several Chairs from other departments that I am teaching a heavy load for a Chair. One said she taught one course a year, another two courses: I teach 3 big classes along with 5 – 6 private composition students per term. I know that may sound light to some, but trying to do that and go to all the meetings one has to as Chair, can be overwhelming.
I am thrilled that I seem to be catching up. My To Do list is shorter. I think I can take this weekend off. Oh wait: I have a new choral piece to compose for the City of West Hollywood!
Onward.
On Sunday night we decided to have a party for Matias and Jenny. But Julia died and things changed; so we invited friends of Julia — her husband, Tiko, his parents, and other close friends of theirs — to our Matias-and-Jenny party.
One of the great things I discovered at the evening party/wake for my brother, is that group-singing is tremendously therapeutic for a mourning family. Bourlands are of Scotch-Irish stock, so perhaps singing and wine have gone together for a long time. But on Sunday, Tiko’s dad, Terry, and I played music for nearly 3 hours. I played my Pedullah fretless bass along with Terry’s ever-tasteful guitar playing. I whipped out my banjo and mandolin as well.
On songs I didn’t know, I shadowed songs Terry played. He thought this skill magical. I assured him that this can be taught. I held the mirror up to him and made him realize that he has the same skill — to be able to “play along” with almost anything: not necessarily processing that this chord is c diminished seven and that one is the four chord in first inversion, but you just “playing along.” You know the places chords will likely go in a particular style. It’s not magical, just as heart surgery is not magical. One learns the technique and uses it.
We played Gilian Welch (sp?), mountain music, folk music, and a long stretch of Beatles music. It was such fun to have a guitarist who can keep us with all those changes. (No, I’m not going to quit my job and form a rock band, and have a midlife exuberance.) We sang and sang, and for me — and I assume, Terry — we were singing for Tiko. “…don’t make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better.”
I started singing Lennon’s “Julia” twice, and choked up. Finally I sang it. Tiko looks kinda like John; Julia looked kinda like Yoko; the resonance hurt.
Last night, to celebrate Josie’s 65th birthday with Matias and Jenny, we went to the fabulous new BAZAARE in Beverly Hills, and all opted for the $95 Jose’s choice tasting menu — which promised to be 12 or 14 tapas-style tastings. By the end of the evening, we were begging them to stop: we thought we’d all burst, or pass out. He warned us, but we didn’t believe him that this would fill us up, and then some, with 30 courses. A once-a-year must.
Nine-month-old Katy, who stayed with us for the past five days, and I became great friends — ok, Jenny sez Katy has a crush on me. During our visit, it appears we were good influences on her: she began four-legged crawling, as opposed the the drag-the-hip tri-crawl technique, that she has already perfected, she became more pronounced in her waving (doncha know Mary), and her clapping developed real enthusiasm (you Go girl!). Her momma, Jenny, sings to her all the time — including “K-K-K-Katy”- an old Tin-Pan Alley ’stutter’ song from the twenties, and the lonely goat song from Sound of Music: she lifts Katy, and Katy does a puppet-like dance to our delight. One can but whistle this song to her, and she breaks into uncontrollable dancing.
Meanwhile back at school, I have weird conversations with my colleagues, the gist of some being: if your area is cut, such and such could happen. It IS responsible to have these conversations, but constantly fretting over the worse scenario doesn’t do anyone any good. We in the UC system, are doing business as usual until instructed to do otherwise. i stay optimistic that our administration will spare us the ax.
Tomorrow, I revisit FLASHPOINT/STONEWALL and finish the re-orchestration by the end of the month. Next week I retire to Palm Springs to finish it, and recharge my batteries; take in the mountain vitamins; slow down; breathe; swim and hot tub; take naps; read; work,work, work; a nice dinner every night, and one movie a day. Sounds like a perfect recharge. I won’t be joining the topless college convertible-down-Main-Street crowd, but will be goin’ it alone. Tiko will be having sabbatical time at our house.
Tonight, Mitchell and I barbequed vegies and sausage and watched a BluRay disk of BARAKA: a wonderful film to ring out the academic term.
As I mentioned below, it’s been a busy time — what with the end of the term and other pressing deadlines. Here’s a picture of one of them:
Matias and Jenny are staying with us for a while with little Katy (9 mos) who is just learning to crawl. [Daniel is her Godfather; I'm the Dogfather.] Our dogs are finally getting used to these little creatures, and now Cody is protecting her. Giaco wants to play with her as he does all other dogs and hasn’t quite figured out that babies can’t romp yet. Last night the four of us went out for dinner and Daniel’s mom, Josie, babysat — she was in heaven. Daniel and I won’t be having kids, but all of our friends are: Jason and Briana, Matias and Jenny, Damon and Jane, and we learned about 4 more at dinner last night. I thought that I’d be a grumpy old intolerant uncle, but I’m really enjoying them. Even the crying doesn’t bother me.
Balance that with the news that our friend Julia Shin died this week. Age 33, of cancer. Married to our dear friend and helper at our publishing company, Tiko Koreen, 27, who has been a tower of strength for her. Robin’s cancer is not going away; we are worried that Janet might have cancer. We keep wishing for a break from death, but it seems to have become our constant companion of late. The more people you know, the more likely it is.
At school, Tim Rice has tirelessly pursued the creation of a core course for our new School. This would be a course that blends the traditions of musical learning, with cultural studies from the points of view ethnomusicologists and musicologists. After much debate and discussion, a committee of all-star professors (Robert Winter, Rice, me, Susan McClary, Tamara Levin, Tony Seeger, Steve Loza, James Newton, and Munir Beken) are considering having ME be the primary teacher throughout the year, and then each quarter, a different pair of professors from musicology and ethno team-teach with me. I get to be Oprah. The meeting was an interesting coming-together of “music theory teaching” — “theory” being a word we are happy to get rid of — and musical context, history, and culture. The musicologists were reluctant to have a technique driven core, a request that seemed difficult to take in at first, but later, intriguing. So, we will march forward and continue to map out this brave new plan.
We still do not know what UCLA’s budget cuts will be. We have had numerous instances where our students’ parents have lost their jobs and they are in need of even more financial aid. I hear of endowments all over the academic community plummeting because of the financial downturn. Everyone is having to cut, or perhaps more accurately, prune. I look around Los Angeles and see all the new business and private properties empty. West Hollywood has added a lot of very cool condos and apartments to live in but many are empty. I am trying to stay calm and not be hysterical about possible impending cuts. Too much worrying will make a person sick.
I’ve always been torn, and erred towards the side of abstaining from socializing with students; although many of my fond memories in college were hanging out with my profs.
Last night, one of our students, who has tremendous herding abilities, got a bunch of our class to go to an Italian restaurant in Sherman Oaks (Spumoni), owned by one of our classmate’s father. It was a lovely evening; the host was generous and a man with a large heart. His daughter wasn’t able to be there as she was in rehearsal for the upcoming opera. We all had a good time and a wonderful meal. Daniel came with me, and a musicology professor, her husband and kids, were there as well.
One must be circumspect about the fine line between friend and teacher, which is similar to being Chair, and being your colleagues’ “boss” while tryng to still be friends. After being in a position of power (teacher, Chair), there is an awkward transition back to being an equal, or a “civilian” as I like to call it. My approach has been to be consistent in both situations. Be the same person with the same values and same honesty.
I think I’ll update my opinion about hanging out with students.
