As a way of introducing the unpredictable purposes of this
First memory - in my sophomore year at the University of Redlands, I was fortunate to land the job of "recording technician" in the School of Music. Fortunate, because I had the freedom to run it as a small business and enjoyed a two-room suite right above the recital hall, packed with all sorts of tape recorders, microphones, Putney synthesizers, and editing equipment (consisting of razor blades and splicing tape!). I made good spending money. The school paid me an hourly rate, and when ensemble concerts were given (band, choir, orchestra), I signed up large numbers of students who wanted to buy recordings. I found a place in L.A. where I could buy recording tape for cheap. While sitting in my theory or orchestration class downstairs, my tape machines on the second floor were humming along, dubbing 5-6 tapes per class. At $6 bucks a shot (the blank tapes cost me $1), I made $25-30 bucks during a single lecture while fulfilling my degree requirements...life was never any better! For the next three years, I wanted to give (a small) something back to my fellow students and faculty - it only cost me some thought and a bit of creativity. Each Monday morning on my studio door, I posted a "Cartoon Of The Week" and a "Poem Of The Week". I cut the cartoon (musically-themed, when possible) out of the weekend paper , and I wrote silly poems for all visitors to see. Students and faculty alike would visit my door early in the week to discover what was new!
Today as I write this page, it occurs to me that a "cyberspace forum" is the perfect excuse to continue this tradition! Maybe I can entice you to visit on a regular basis. I will try to post something on a monthly basis of closely-(and sometimes distantly-) related issues of interest to choral musicians. Maybe a dumb poem, a beautiful text, or some uncertain ramblings about my views or experiences with choral music. It will always be fresh, honest, and briefer than this "inaugural address"....which leads me, in conclusion, to my second college memory -
....the summer following my sophomore year, I stayed with my college roommate on his dad's wheat farm in Montana. On long, hot days, I harvested wheat and plowed the fields. In the evenings, I relaxed in the "bunkhouse" which they turned over to me for the summer. It was pretty trashed, so we cleaned it up nicely and painted everything. We painted one large wall white. Throughout the summer, I (or anyone visiting my bunkhouse) could write, paint, deface, or otherwise expressively record our thoughts and experiences on that wall. After all, another coat of paint at the end of summer would make all things new!
Visit here often, not only to get acquainted with my music,
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