Soundchoices: Paul Elwood

Gordon Parks and a Chance Encounter

Gordon Parks, the great American photographer/filmmaker found his calling in 1947 as a conductor on a train; not as a conductor but as a photographer. Someone left a magazine on a train seat with a photographic spread detailing a social issue of the day. Parks believed that the images held a power to tell a story and possibly change the world. So, when his train arrived in Seattle, he bought a camera for $7 and commenced a career in the visual arts that took him to the pages of Look and Life magazine, among others. He had an incredible compositional eye as well as an eye for light and shadow. He was sent on assignment once to document the life of a low-income family in Harlem, and on another occasion with a similar family in a Brazilian favela. In the 60s he became friends with Malcolm X and documented his work; in the late 60s he spent time with the Black Panthers also photographing their lives. His later career dipped into film directing, most notably with the film Shaft.

His whole life developed a trajectory from his chance encounter with a magazine photo spread. It's important that we stay awake to ideas and opportunities that may present themselves to us—a random event may send us on a positive life journey. 

Marketing a Way to Success?

The heart of creativity seems to lie in a spirit of giving. After all, there is no guarantee of a return for our work - money, acclaim, performances, a publishing deal - nothing is assured, so there must be reasons beyond that which drive us. Part of what drives me is habit - forty years of habitually getting up in the morning and working on projects for better or worse. Sometimes the projects pay off in a variety of ways and sometimes they land on the shelf only to stay there.

I used to blame myself sometimes if my music went nowhere. It seems I could do a better job of marketing my wares. But, as someone pointed out, you can't necessarily market your way to success. It doesn't hurt trying. And the spirit of giving can be a good reason to do your work; I often write for my friends who may perform and appreciate the music. The works that end up languishing, well, they may be regarded as practice and I always need practice. 

John Hartford and Making a Hit

Through the graces of fiddler/producer Matt Combs in Nashville, I met and spent a little time hanging with composer/musician John Hartford a couple of years before Hartford passed in 2001. Hartford penned the renown hit "Gentle on My Mind" that Glen Campbell made famous in 1968. I believe he wrote it in less than 1/2 hour. 

One day I mentioned to Hartford that it was interesting that he didn't try to duplicate that success. "Oh, but I did," he reflected. He spent three weeks trying to write another hit in that vein called "A Simple Thing as Love."  That's a great song, but it never caught on in the manner that "Gentle on My Mind" did.

One can't plan a hit, really. Serendipity, timing, luck, and airplay, etc. are all factors in creating something that will catch on. It doesn't matter. I believe that one should just write and write and create honest expression. If a success comes out of it, great!  If not, you've created a body of work that will be strong on its own merits. 

Hartford spent the rest of his life writing great songs, none of which caught on in the manner of his 1968 success. However, he left a body of work that a now much younger generation is playing and recording. So, who knows?  One of those renditions may become a hit yet. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MWuxqg4gmPU

Sky Songs

Bukka White said he reached up

and grabbed 'em out of the sky.

He called 'em "Sky Songs."

But, man, it seems to me

that they reach down 

and grab me off the Earth.

    - Townes Van Zandt

This quote is from John Kruth's wonderful biography of songwriter/singer Townes Van Zandt titled To Live's to Fly, the Ballad of the Late, Great Townes Van Zandt. Van Zandt is referencing Delta blues singer Bukka White (1906-1977). Whether your creative works seem to come from the sky, or to reach down and grab you, it's really a matter of listening. Whether you, in fact, are listening to a muse who helps you along, or you are tapping into a subconscious stream from your own psyche, the sky is the limit. Van Zandt discussed just going with the creative flow:

"Some take a year; some take thirty minutes. They can come straight through you, and you don't know what they're about or             where they're coming from. . . . Because I've been doing this for 25 years, I'm aware of when a song comes along. I'm aware of little clues that come together to make a song." (p. 64, To Live's to Fly). 

I've discovered in my own songwriting that it doesn't do to worry the lyrics too much or to put a lot of thought into them—at first. Sometimes I go back and type them out and then revise, revise, revise. Sometimes I leave the lyrics as they are. It seems that, once you've developed your skills, it's best to then let them work with the subconscious and to trust in your subconscious. Or a higher power.  

Pancho and Lefty

I go on a one-song listening spree sometimes. That is, I'll listen to different versions of the same song. Recently it has been Pancho and Lefty by Townes Van Zandt. I've heard the song a number of times before, but hadn't paid much attention. The version that piqued my interest was by the bluegrass band "Old and In the Gray," (2002) an offshoot of the earlier "Old and In the Way," a group with Jerry Garcia on banjo, Vassar Clements on fiddle, Peter Rowan, guitar, John Kahn on bass, and David Grisman on mandolin. I love their initial 1973 release! The later group maintains Clements, Rowan, and Grisman.  I then listened to a live version of Van Zandt playing the tune, followed by versions from Emmy Lou Harris, and Willie Nelson and Merle Haggard, among others. My favorite was Van Zandt's. I like the other renderings, too, especially Harris's, but the solo simplicity and lack of heavy production gives the song the lonely feel that I rather like in the melody and lyrics. Music doesn't need to be heavily produced to speak volumes. 

The words are somewhat cryptic about Pancho, a Mexican bandit, and a sidekick Van Zandt calls Lefty (subconsciously evoking country icon Lefty Frizzell?). Or it's about Pancho Villa. Van Zandt himself wasn't sure: "I realize that I wrote it, but it's hard to take credit for the writing, because it came from out of the blue. It came through me and it's a real nice song, . . ." Sometimes we just don't know what our creative works are about; it can be left to others to decide,  but it is "a real nice song." We can let our creative juices flow and what happens will happen. 

Sidebar: when Old and In the Way was playing together, the band was driving past a large billboard somewhere in California with Jerry Garcia and the Grateful Dead pictured. Not knowing that Garcia was actually in the Dead, Vassar Clements turned to Jerry and said, "The fella on the billboard looks just like you, Jerry." Clements admitted later that he really had no idea who Garcia was before that. 

Project Burnout

No matter how enthusiastic I am on any project, sometimes I suffer from project burnout. Tired of the music I'm writing and the overall project, I just want to be done with it. This can be a motivating factor.

A few years ago, not only was I motivated by a deadline, but just ready to be done with a project. So I worked for several days to finish it realizing there would be a period of creative rest at the end.

I'm almost never, if ever, burned out on music, but I can be ready to finish some creations. 

Patience With Your Projects

I sometimes suffer from a lack of patience with a project. In spite of my excitement about a project, I want the creation process to be finished so that I can send my music off to the performers. A couple of years ago I took a drawing class and quickly learned there that the same thing is true with visual art. I had to be patient with the process of realizing my projects. The drawings didn't always go fast and I needed to backtrack sometimes, erase lines, or just start over. 

Currently I'm working toward the finishing line on a composition that needs to be shipped next week. The details aren't going fast and I realized while composing this morning that I'm just going to have to be patient and take all of the time I need to finish—as long as I send the product next Tuesday. That sort of pressure pushes me, but I know that I also need to go slow enough to get the job done. 

Patience is a necessary part of letting a project unfold in its own time. 

A Flow of Ideas

Creative works don't come from nothing, although they may seem to if I'm drawing a creative blank. There's the blank page or canvas facing me in the morning. At worst, I'll doodle on that page if nothing occurs to me. Sometimes that gives my brain time to air and think. Then there's the work of other artists to consider.

Last night I watched a performance on television of Daniel Barenboim playing Beethoven's Piano Concerto IV, op. 58 with Zubin Mehta conducting. Not only was it the most focused half hour of my day, but the performance got me to thinking about composing and the development of ideas for my own piano composition that I'm finishing. The creative work of others—past and present—often provide me with ideas. When I've visited the homes of visual artists, they often have many art books around to reference as they are working on their own projects. 

When stuck, it may be helpful to go to the works of others for deep immersion. From there, ideas may arise to push a project forward. 

 

Your Best Efforts

It's important to give your best efforts to your creative works. Even if you don't feel like it. Maybe some days your best isn't what you know could be your best; your energy level, your state of mind, your focus for that day may not be what you know is your best, but in the moment it is your best because you are trying. It is more important to just do the work habitually. It is said that the most effective exercise is consistent exercise. The most effective personal creativity is consistency in your work. That, ultimately, is your best. 

Beginning and Ending Your Projects

There are three problems one might encounter in creativity:

1. Beginning the project
2. Ending the project
3. Sticking to the project until the second goal is met,

At the outset, a project doesn’t have to be created in a sequential time-line form. One can begin anywhere. Composer John Cage has suggested that, if one is stuck on where to begin a project, begin anywhere.

I sometimes tell my students to begin working in the middle of a composition. And it doesn’t hurt to have an idea of the overall effect that you wish to convey. A few years ago I composed a piece that I thought would simply be very quiet. I decided to place the dynamic (volume) indications from very soft to almost-not-soft. So, I decided on a meditative effect and the music fit within this framework.

Writer Sariah Wilson has recently posted Five [excellent] Tips for Finishing Your Book in Writer’s Digest (linked below). It doesn’t matter that your project is a painting, a composition, a play, or a choreography. Start (anywhere) and finish.

https://www.writersdigest.com/be-inspired/5-tips-for-finishing-your-book?utm_campaign=WDG%20-%20NL%20-%20WIR&utm_medium=email&_hsmi=200535397&_hsenc=p2ANqtz-_H7EPHnG22MdyR-S8-gLNHgEQPXqSQ7xSrgXMA-uaQndmfiBXCQUIN60QKUod73kzpjctCRRb_BHbjzrXiK82zvqmlfg&utm_content=200534678&utm_source=hs_email