Yesterday, two friends from high school sent me private messages asking why I had contacted them to request friendship when we were already friends on Facebook. I was not hacked but “compromised” — that’s the word. Regardless, it was quite a shock to see someone impersonating me. Even more so, I was surprised that people who shared mutual FB friends with me were on the list of friends of the fake account.
In the UK, older students are called “mature students.” In the US, anyone over 25 studying for their first degree falls into the category of “nontraditional students”. In the Netherlands, it is uncommon to see a mature, nontraditional student at conservatory. One first year (traditional) student even opined that older students couldn’t make it in music. Her remark both scared me and challenged me.
Each time I left my job to study for a degree, it felt harder than the previous. I call the latest my last degree of separation, for truly it was more arduous than I had ever expected — a physical and geographical estrangement from those closest to me, rocketing me out of my comfort zone, plunging me into long bouts of solitary confinement and emotional isolation. Yet to do my research, I had to deliberately mingle with crowds of strangers who bonded with me in ways I never imagined possible. That is the paradox.
Autumn: leaves are falling and turning colour. The summer has ended, and soon my stay in London will, too.
My research into the paradox of simplicity that commands the sound of 3,000 voices and instruments (Irish Hooley, Dun Laoghaire, August 2017) led me to conclude that it’s all about following the age-old wisdom of Keep It Simple and Small is Beautiful. Take the jazz version of “Autumn Leaves” for example.
“Support my fundraiser! Come to my soiree on the 22nd!”
He invited me to play the grand piano or bring my ukulele group for a singalong to fundraise for his half-marathon in Jordan. I can do neither. I am already missing the Chocoleles performing at the second annual Milton Porchfest. I am missing the open museum day in Boston and open historic houses in London. I am missing everything because I am running a seated marathon.
Barely two weeks after watching “Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again” – the sequel to “Mamma Mia!” I am now on the island where it was filmed, not quite a year ago in September 2017, not Greece but Croatia. The island of Vis is as beautiful as it first impressed upon me in the movie, with plenty of locations to explore in the coming week. Over a multi-course fish dinner on the harbour last night, I declared, “I think I’m finally chilling out.”
Won’t it be great to sing ABBA songs and see the new Mamma Mia movie? That seed of intention was planted back in April when my ukulele group in Boston dedicated one of our weekly jam sessions to songs from the ABBA GOLD album.
Yesterday, we did just that. After our outdoor ukulele gig at Kew Village Market, I followed Lisa on bicycle to nearby Richmond to celebrate our friend Sue’s birthday with ABBA songs and the Mamma Mia II movie. We brought our soprano ukuleles in anticipation. Should we play and sing before the movie or after? Time decided for us.
The way a musician prepares a programme for a solo concert has similarities with the way a chef puts together a menu for his guests, be it a private event or daily menu in a restaurant. Both are thinking about selecting what they think will be a suitable fit for consumption within given time period, ensuring a variety of tastes, tempos, dynamics, and textures to avoid boredom while meeting the constraints of time and feasability. Having a theme or occasion helps guide and constrain the set list.
Ever since getting introduced to the ukulele on Maui, I have been curiously witnessing and participating the rituals of ukulele groups and clubs in Maui, Boston, London, and Amsterdam. The ukulele allows self-accompaniment for singing without a conductor or leader. What fascinates me is how little (if any) this explosion of amateur music making is mentioned in the academic literature and the amount of time we spend on “repertoire selection” to find suitable song sheets for our jam sessions and gigs, whether we search for them, adapt and transcribe them for our needs, or write them from scratch.
The ukulele is the quickest and easiest way to make music and connect with others. The first step is getting a ukulele and learning how to play it. Then you can strum, sing, and socialise!
Don’t miss the opportunity to learn with others, interactively online with others in a group class. Register via Google Form or Eventbrite. Minimum enrollment applies, otherwise class will be postponed or rescheduled with notice.
Complete Beginner Classes $139 No pre-requisites except a ukulele and clip-on tuner. This is the very first group lesson in Zoom: how to hold, tune, and strum your ukulele; how to read chord diagrams, how to finger chords, how to switch between chords; two chord songs; three chord songs; how to read song sheets; other tips and advice. For more information and free taster workshop dates, visit my ukulele page.
My first ukulele book in a new series on Amazon will be released in mid-October. Read the advance reviews from published and established ukulele composers.
What’s the next best thing to seeing the musical “My Fair Lady” ? Get invited backstage, meet the band and production staff, and attend the dress rehearsal.
Colin Tribe’s new book offers new possibilities for ukulele players who aspire to fingerpick their way through thirty of the most popular songs of all time. These chord melody arrangements show a variety of ways the high G ukulele can be used for instrumental solo or duet (such as chord accompaniment and melodic fingerpicking) . […]