Long time no see....

Yup, I've spent the past year washing my drums....
....anyway - it seems extremely remiss of me not to keep blogging - not least because I really want to remember what I've been up to!

2007 saw trips to Ohio, Skye, and Germany, as well as more domestically related rhythmic ramblings; continuing to tutor would-be community musicians at Strathclyde University, and what has seemed like my biggest rhythm project, working with the occupational therapy department of a local NHS trust to deliver drumming workshops throughout their mental health services.

This has been a fascinating journey: for a while now I have held the belief that the arts can do for our mental health what exercise does for our physical health - i.e. help us improve when we're in bad shape, and act to maintain our health when we're in good shape.

In a drumming workshop, for example, stereotypically, there is a cathartic/emotional dimension, but there's also a huge communicative aspect to it, as we negotiate the give and take, the self-expression and the group dynamic. There's a sizeable amount of self-management needed in order to make music as a group - if I fill up all the musical space, there's no 'room' for others to play, so, much as I may want to let off steam with a great drum roll, I have to hang on to that impulse in the recognition that our success as a group depends on my co-operation and sensitivity towards the needs of others.

Another fascinating aspect is the concentrative power of drumming. Quite often in workshops we talk about how helpful it is to let go of the analytical brain which might want to work out or 'count' a particular rhythm, and try instead to 'feel' for a rhythm. Sometimes this is easier said than done! In any case many people have mentioned that they were both physically, and mentally occupied while they were drumming. Mentally, this manifests in expressions to the effect that 'it allowed me to forget my 'stuff' for a while.'

Physically, some individuals have found the presence of a rhythmic pulse to be quite transforming. With elderly participants, this often looks like 'waking up', as group members who displayed very little activity when they arrive at a workshop, become drawn into active and interactive participation. Other group members with physical difficulties such as repeating spasms, have found that rhythm offers a predictive structure that helps them to order, control, and calm their movements. There has been significant research regarding the use of rhythm in assisting people with Parkinson's and recovering from strokes, known as 'rhythmic auditory motor facilitation'. Here's a link to a lot of extremely interesting research... Anyway, it's fascinating to see it displayed on a small scale, outside the laboratory.

cheers dears,
Jane

When I'm not out and about drumming, I'm working on my PhD.... honest....

Cartoon by Dave Walker. Find more cartoons you can freely re-use on your blog at We Blog Cartoons.

Glasgow to Chicago, with 'Harmony, Hope and Healing'

This October, I was offered the chance to spend some time with Marge Nykaza, who runs an organisation called Harmony, Hope and Healing. Based in Chicago, Marge runs a creative music programme with homeless and underprivileged people in shelters and community centres. Formed mostly around group singing work, Marge was keen to include more rhythm activities - which is where I came in (along with a large purple bag full of drums)…

Apart from the prospect of Chicago being warmer than Glasgow at this time of year, the idea instantly appealed. (In the end, it snowed unseasonally early…) Here in Scotland, I work on a freelance basis making music with a variety of different groups: in schools, churches, psychiatric hospitals, and with adults and children with a variety of special needs, so it seemed quite a natural progression to working with the kinds of groups Marge is involved with. However, circumstances were also different enough to mean that I was going to learn a lot, as well as hopefully being able to offer something in return.

On arrival, I really didn't have much idea of what I was getting into - it wasn't until we met up that I found out the extent of the work HHH did…



The programme is billed as a ‘healing tool for recovery from the adverse effects of homelessness and poverty’ and ranges from singing groups (which perform regularly) held in the shelters, through to parent and child music groups; piano lessons for the elderly; groups for young people, and even musical English lessons for recent immigrants!

As well as bringing rhythm to Marge's weekly round, we also had the pleasure of dropping in on a local high school, to talk to the students who were considering opportunities for community service. We talked with the girls about service through working musically with groups - along with a wee practical demonstration in the form of creating some instant rhythm and song in the classroom - using desks, hands, feet and voices. It worked a treat, and brought staff in from other rooms to see what was going on…

Later on, we were fortunate to be joined by some of the girls for a couple of sessions - drumming together at an elderly drop-in centre, and then at a shelter with some of the women and children. The girls were quite shy and tentative at first, (91 year old Mrs Brown leaned over to one of the girls with a "Could you smile please?") but later on with the mothers and children, we were all leaping around playing musical plastic tubes... they had certainly loosened up by the end of it!

Throughout the week, music became a common activity for people to encounter each other over societal or generational divides, and a great ‘leveller’ which brought people to a place where everyone was a learner together – rather than owning their more usual labels of ‘helper’ or ‘homeless person’ or ‘expert’ - although it was great to see the elders whooping it up on the drums amid a group of tentative teenagers... (How’s that for role reversal?)

From the outside - especially when faced with situations of such need - it could be easy to dismiss this kind of work as simply diversionary, or unnecessary. Marge admitted she’d occasionally been confronted by people saying ‘I’m homeless and poor – and you want me to …sing?’, but during the week it became apparent that in a sense it wasn’t about music at all, but rather about walking alongside people, and sharing our common humanity. Music was simply the means by which we came together, listened to each other, valued each other, and built community together.

There were so many highlights it would take too much space to list them all – here’s just a couple:
A completely unexpected pleasure was drumming at the men's shelter. There were a few raised eyebrows when a mild-mannered white chick from Scotland was introduced as someone who would help them all drum together!

However it wasn't only their expectations that were overturned, but mine too – I was quite prepared for a chaotic, loud session with the men letting rip on the drums without necessarily listening to the group. What actually happened was that after a few words about how drumming in a group was different to playing a drum kit or drumming alone, we all went straight into an extremely exuberant, but very musical and rhythmical 'groove' that lasted about 30 minutes without any further input. These guys could play....

A wee while later, we tried an exercise in ‘drum conversations’ - the only 'rules' being that one person chooses another for a drum ‘chat’ - and has to stop playing to let the other person reply, and so on. The second person gets to pick another person in the group, and have a conversation with them - then the third person, and so on. An amazing variety of conversations ensued: some were extremely rhythmic and musical - some less so, with a couple of the men finding it really difficult to stop and let each other play. Others were much more dramatic and interpretive - like real speech - leading to one guy jumping up at the end of his conversation, and jokingly accusing another that:
“He just said something about my mother!”

One of the most moving experiences happened one morning at a women’s shelter. There was a group of about 25 women present, and we got to playing together pretty quickly, along with some of the preschool children, who sat playing in a happy band in the middle of the circle, while their mothers and others played round about them. Again, it was easy to see the capacity of music to involve people regardless of age – toddlers and adults were equally engaged at their own level, yet still part of the same song.

As this was normally a singing group, we moved on to a couple of the songs that they knew – and we started singing an old gospel tune 'Wade in the Water', and drumming along. A couple of the women started taking turns to make up new verses, and before we knew it, everyone was stepping up one at a time to sing what was on their mind - about giving up drugs, about life in the shelter, about not putting up with abuse, about protecting their children, about trying to get their lives in order so they could get their children back, and some more humorous ones. Everyone gave space, everyone supported and encouraged each other, and the group had completely taken charge of the session in a wonderful way.

However, as well as some real highlights, I also received quite a lesson in learning to pace yourself. On the Thursday, I'd started to get a bit of a sore back, from carrying all the instruments around, but on Friday something really went awry, and I was in so much pain I couldn't speak at times. Something was definitely at work here, as I also just wanted to cry and cry over what I had experienced, and the people I'd met, particularly the children in the shelters. I guess I'd been holding it in all week, and it had to come out at some point! Yikes. There was nothing to do except lie down (very gingerly) for the rest of the day. I was beginning to worry about my ability to make it home on the plane in such a physical state - however, the next day I was virtually pain free, and just a little wobbly.

What an amazing week!
Having experienced this week of ups and downs, joy and tears, and seen what this way of spending musical time with people can do, it has made me think more about what could be developed back in Glasgow; whether that’s in my own work - or even enticing other musicians into this area. What if church musicians took the idea of ‘music ministry’ outside institutional walls, and into the community, even for an hour a week? What would it mean to ‘give to the poor’ from our immense musical and interpersonal resources, as well as our financial ones?

Having seen it at first hand, it now seems much more personally achievable to create possibilities for people than simply by having vague good intentions towards it, or imagining that one would ‘get around to it’ one day, whilst being overtaken by other equally demanding projects. One of the things Marge said a couple of times during the week was: 'How can you not do this kind of work?' - having shared just a small portion of it, I now understand exactly what she means! From the exuberance of the session with the men, to the energy of the children, and sheer emotion of the women's sessions, it was a joy and a privilege to be able to spend time and encounter each other through music. Harmony, hope and healing indeed…

Another USA instalment

At last! Finger to key again, and here's a bit more of a ramble from this summer's trip - LA to San Francisco...

Having said a tearful farewell to the PAM West conference, I set off about midday up what I was told was the quick route to San Francisco, up the (Highway?) 5. It always feels a little bit odd just calling roads by their numbers, American style , e.g. “Head west on the 66, then north on 187, etc” – It’s a bit like another language, along with place locations, like “at 74th and Main” (eh??), but what sounded like gobbledygook when I first arrived soon came to have meaning for me as I had to navigate my way around. And working out cities on grid plans, which makes a lot of sense when you get the hang of it, but feels a bit odd when you’re used to wiggly streets, and navigating by landmarks, instead of numbers and compass directions.

Anyway, back to the 5 (no prefix) – which I was told was the boring route, but which to a first time California driver was anything but. Driving north out of LA over the hills was a great experience – a really long steady climb up and down again. I wasn’t surprised to see lorries at the side of the road who had overheated on the way up. I was surprised to see then stalled at the side on the way down! Brakes giving out, I suppose….?

Once the hills had passed, it was flat, very flat, and very straight for a long time – Britain ain’t big enough for roads like these! It all became quite hypnotic, especially as it was such a hot day – I could see hills to the west, but they always remained teasingly out of reach, almost like a mirage. I passed through a series of mass agriculture, vegetable by vegetable coming closer to my destination. Until the massed cows came along – escaping the sun under long, straight shelters in their thousands. Beefburgers on legs…

The radio provided a fascinating accompaniment – ranging from Latin American hi-emergy numbers, (which quite wore me out just listening to them), to an extremely scary Christian right wing station, full of self-congratulation, to an extremely interesting free speech radio station, which had to beg for its very life in between reports from the Lebanon etc, trying to offer a counterbalance to the mental fluff of Fox news and the like. And then some more cry your guts out Country music, just for good measure. All of human life on the radio! And a great big eye opener.

I also experienced evangelism by truck, when one drove past me with ‘Jesus Loves You’ mudflaps on… ah, America….

I was extremely worn out when I finally arrived at Heather Mc Tavish’s house (in an absolutely beautiful location near San Fransisco) – luckily she is in possession of the world’s most comfortable bed, and I gladly surrendered myself to its cloudlike depths for an extremely restful night....

Cartoon by Dave Walker. Find more cartoons you can freely re-use on your blog at We Blog Cartoons.

Dating dilemmas

This post is not as fruity as it sounds - just a note that all the posts about the trip dated in august do not correspond to the dates they actually happened! I'm back in Glasgow now, but still determined to finish writing about my trip!

At the current time of witing, I'm freshly back from a wonderful week in Iona, at the invitation of the Wild Goose Resource group. It was 'music and worship week' and an inspiration all round - from the rest of the programme team, but also from the guests who brought their own inspiring stories with them.

My remit was definitely a percussive one this week, doing daily drumming workshops, and contributing various 'noises' to the worship. I even had my performance debut on the triangle... alongside the thoughtful and gorgeously voiced Tony Alonso - who bravely invited me to play on a couple of numbers in his concert.

Other highlights included a service involving a huge wall of boxes being built across the Abbey (no prizes for guessing what the subject was!) - seeing Aly Bain and Phil Cunningham in concert at the village hall - the demise of the Abbey's sound system and accompanying compensations - the scriptures being danced, sung and drummed in, in the final service - and missing the ferry on the way home, in excellent company.

Next weekend a number of us will be off to do more music and worship stuff at Greenbelt festival... more about that later...

Conferencing in LA

The conference itself had a multicultural theme, which was absolutely perfect – the afternoon was spent soaking up words of wisdom from the revs Charles Ryu and Lee Jung Moon, who presented a fascinating workshop on the use of Korean drumming in worship. Lee was also an expert on traditional Korean percussion music, and is trying to advocate for its re-inclusion in worship settings, after years of drums being seen as a naughty thing. He’d brought with him some videos of work in Korea – both traditional drumming in its original cultural setting, and in use in worship – both of which were fascinating, and wonderful to see a tradition so completely different to anything I’ve experienced previously. Koreans ROCK! (oops – there’s a sweeping cultural generalisation again..) Long may his work continue.

I also had the privilege of experiencing more of the African American approach towards music and worship, which was a real treat. It seems a lot more geared towards whole community participation than much worship I’ve encountered – and not just musically either. I’ve grown rather fond of hearing some forthright exclamations of ‘A-men!’ occur from round the congregation in response to a particularly juicy point in a prayer or sermon. It seems much more of a two-way process than a one-way delivery. Perhaps I should start doing this in Scotland … and watch for the reactions! ;-)

Many many other moments at this conference were like a foretaste of heaven – the diversity of expression, human-beingness, culture, and approach to things godly – all valid, all appreciated, all sharing the same desire to create a more just world, and build community with each other and the divine. Aaaaa – MEN to that!

During the conference ‘day off’ I went to encounter a whole other mode of beingness! I was due to meet with a friend that evening, who had suggested a trip to Venice Beach. Trip being the apposite word! I had nervously driven across town and gratefully parked my car somewhere in the direction of the waterfront, and walked out on to what looked like a fairly normal beach (except with more suntans than you would find in the UK). I’d heard many stories of it being quite an ‘out-there’ place, and thought ‘is this it?’ – but went to pay my respects to the Pacific, and decided to keep strolling along the beach, (feeling very much a stranger in a strange land) in case I’d missed something.

Which I had. Further down, what looked like a small row of shops in the distance turned out to be what I can only describe from previous experiential reference points as a mixture between Camden Market, and the more bizarre aspects of Glastonbury festival, with a bit of extra added California ‘je ne sais quois’. All of human life was here – walking along (the promenade?), on one side were a row of little shops/stalls, selling all manner of trinkets and mind-expanding items – on the other side were some of the most creative ways to make a living one could think of, from a man selling hugs for 50c (who was rather gorgeous!) to a pair of beach-outfitted aliens in deck chairs (selling photographic opportunities), to a man whose sign simply said ‘Give me some f***in money’ – call a spade a spade, that’s what I say.

Learning to drive - LA style..

Well, my arrival in LA was traumatic, to say the least – mostly due to it being my second only day of USA driving, and my first experience of LA freeways. Placing perfect faith in my GPS navigator, I nervously wobbled along in the slowest of five lanes, past downtown LA on the way to Pasadena, and the west coast version of the conference which brought me over in the first place. I will never complain about driving in Glasgow again! From now on, the metal-boxed denizens of the M8 will seem like mild mannered paragons of moderation and courtesy!

Sadly, my faith in GPS was to be misplaced, as the SatNav proudly announced “You have reached your destination” – right in the middle of a freeway on-ramp! So, I went on and off at the next exit, ending up outside the Rose Bowl (well, at least I was sightseeing) – and no idea as to what to do next.

Luckily, I found the address of the conference accommodation – reasoning that if I could make it there (I’ll make it anywhere…it’s up tooo yooo….) I could probably get directions from someone on site.

The GPS worked fine this time, and I arrived where I was supposed to – only there was nobody to be found... After some fevered map-checking, I decided to try an alternative route, which seemed to bring me in the general area of the conference, and headed off again… in search of an address by the name of ‘East Colorado Boulevard’…

The problem lay in the street naming – in Britain we would mostly expect to see the ‘East’ bit written out explicitly on the signage, which is not necessarily the case over here, the result being that I massively overshot the venue on yet another detour, having been miles down Colorado Boulevard, waiting for it to turn into the ‘East’ version.

I ended up over an hour later than my original arrival time, and almost at the pint of tears, being still a little overwhelmed by the sheer sensory overload of driving on the different side of the car; the road; driving an automatic, and reading different street signs and regulations (and having been up since 4.30 that morning). Oh yes, and nearly killing a friend (who had also been waiting for me for an hour) by turning left into oncoming traffic immediately after he’d jumped in the car to show me where to park…

…Not the best start to the day, and I still had no idea where I was going to sleep that night!

Thankfully, things improved dramatically after that. I had turned up at the conference on very much an impromptu basis, but the organisers managed to squeeze me in, for which I was very grateful…happy landings at last!

more stuff ...

Well, it’s about time for another instalment – this time from the first class compartment of an aircraft, somewhere above the big flat bit of America. From my window, the land as far as the eye can see is unpunctuated by anything higher than a tree – it’s extraordinary. I wonder what it must be like growing up there – you must end up with an entirely different appreciation of landscape. A bit like Norfolk – only flatter…

So, the hitherto unknown and mysterious world of first class travel is now being revealed to me by the good fortune of being bumped from last night’s flight! When I checked in, they asked for volunteers to go on a later flight. All I had waiting for me in LA was an unknown hostel bed, a hire car, and nothing until 10.45 the following morning, so I duly ticked the appropriate box and volunteered. When boarding time arrived, my name was called, and I was asked to relinquish my ticket – what I received in exchange was room and board for the night in Baltimore, a free one-way ticket voucher….and a first class upgrade on the flight the following morning! Makes a nice alternative to a hostel dormitory, I must say.

So, here I am, living it up with the high flyers, with more leg room than I have legs to fill it with. What’s different? I suppose it depends on which airline you choose – I had visions of these mini-cubicles that are beginning to appear on some airlines, but there’s fairly normal seating on this one – except a bit more spacious. You get real crockery, which soothes my environmental conscience – although a few plastic cups is miniscule compared to the several tons of CO2 this aircraft is currently dumping into the atmosphere (though I am going to find a way to pay to offset the environmental consequences – as much as possible). I also had a stunning enormous breakfast of a lovely plate groaning with fresh fruit, cereal, Danish pastry, etc, which should keep me going for the next week at least. You also get a small linen tablecloth to place over the folding table, which although not quite conjuring up the ambience of fine restaurant dining, does take you a little further than the usual foil sealed oily aircraft fodder.

Anyway – enough swanning about – time to catch up on the last few days of vagrancy. I’ve really enjoyed my time in Baltimore, which seems to be an extremely vibrant place, with an identity very much its own. I’ve been staying with a friend who I met in Hawaii, and meeting up with several others, so it seems like a real reunion. A lot of the housing is made up of ‘row homes’ which are like terraced houses that are only one room wide – tall and narrow. Some of them stand alone, which do look rather skinny! They’re all over the city – much like sandstone tenements are in Glasgow. In the evenings, people still sit out on their front porches and watch the world go by, which feels very sociable.

The area (Hampden) in which I was staying was a bit like a slightly more upmarket version of Camden in London – lots of small, interesting shops, and cultural oddities, such as a ‘Honfest’ (if I can find a website link I will add it later) dedicated to a particular type of woman who might wear a beehive hairdo and Dame Edna specs. Or the ‘Roller Derby’- a women’s roller skating team event where they seem to gain points for beating each other up as they go. I’m sure the men must get to do some fun stuff too… we went to a farmer’s market place where there was a stall run by a man who fancies himself as a pirate…so at least he was having fun!

Ooo! Hills have reappeared, and we’re passing over a gorgeous looking river delta… more flat stuff on the horizon though…

Managed to squeeze in more drumming in the past few days – one workshop for a ‘kids at risk’ summer camp (inner city boys in their early teens), were we did some Ghanaian drumming, and a bit of drum circling. It was halfway through a 6 week series, and really encouraging to see how the boys had started to listen to each other and play co-operatively. I wonder what an equivalent workshop in Glasgow would be like – these boys were energetic, but extremely well behaved compared to some of my previous experiences.

I also went to something called the ‘Rumble Club’ which is a monthly event designed for people who facilitate drum circles to get together and practice their stuff on each other, as well as an hour or so of freeform drumming. It was great to sit back and be a participant and just play for a while!

The last occurrence was a friend’s 40th birthday party, where I met up with a load of old Hawaii friends – it was wonderful to drum with people who really understand how to make music together! Effortless, playful, and ever changing, it was stuff to feed the soul…

Ooo – just seen one of those legendary long straight motorways they have over here – stretching waaaay into the distance with barely a kink in it. I’m missing out on that thing they sometimes have that shows you a map of where you’re flying over – it would be really handy to know what I’m gazing out at!

Right – off to have a little snooze now in my comfy chair. I was up at 4.45 this morning, and today will be extended by three hours because of the time difference, so I need all the rest I can get!


Zzzz…..


Zzzzzz…


How refreshing! Well, extreme flatness has given way to desert and mountains, and everything looks like the grand canyon from up here! I can see only one road, and a couple of riverbeds, and the rest is rock and sand – stunning.

I forgot to write down another couple of little observations – one is that whilst travelling through Pennsylvania, several of the churches had cheesy slogans outside – here are three of my favourites:

‘Warm outside? This church is prayer conditioned…’

‘We are a prophet sharing organisation…’

‘Hot? Try one of our cool Sundays with heavenly food…’

Something else which amused me greatly was a dinner one evening at a classic suburban home – all chintzy furniture and pristine ‘stuff’! Anyway, we were talking with our host, a rather animated lady (who clearly had a lot to say) who asked me what my impressions were about Americans, and was really pressing me for ‘one bad habit’ - it’s really not my place to pass sweeping generalisations on a vast population, but there was no way out, so I made an observation that sometimes people talked a lot more than they listened over here, and seemed to interrupt each other.

‘That’s really interesting, do tell me more about that’ was my host’s reply, and when I proceeded to elaborate, I hadn’t even completed my sentence before she jumped in with an anecdote of her own! That really tickled me, and I didn’t get much of a word in edgeways for the rest of the evening - and I’m sure it went completely unnoticed!!

However, I must balance things out by mentioning that by and large I have been met with extremely eloquent and reciprocally conversational people, which have been a delight to spend time with.

When I land I’m off to spend a couple of days at the west coast version of the conference that brought me over here in the first place – a happy co-incidence, and I’m looking forward to connecting up with some of the organisers again. Then it’s off up north somewhere near San Fransisco for the weekend, and more adventures.

I have no idea where I’m going to sleep tonight…


Happy trails!

Jane


P.s. now in San fransisco!