The Most Challenging Musical Quest – Part 3

In the first two parts of this series I have shared with you the various challenges I have faced in my musical and personal life, yet as challenging as they may have been, what remains to be done will perhaps be the most challenging: figuring out who I am at this moment and having the courage to be that person in front of others.

I remember a time a few years ago when I asked multi-instrumentalist Joe Craven if he ever felt awkward playing multiple instruments at the same time, as he often plays percussion with hands while “mouthing” other percussion sounds, while switching to mandolin and fiddle. By “awkward”, I meant that I, too, could do that to an extent, but had felt like I was showing off or bragging in doing so.

I clearly remember his response: “No,” followed by a gesture that indicated that that was a silly question. I don’t know why I was reluctant to display my talents, particularly considering how much time I had spent developing them. Perhaps it was an old pledge I made to myself back in High School where, after witnessing a friend’s constant bragging, I swore I would never do that, preferring others to speak highly of me rather than myself.

Joe’s words and reaction stayed with me. But there is a difference between bragging and simply “being.” I do have skills I have developed, so why not display them?

I didn’t really think of it much after speaking with Joe, but little by little, I “allowed” myself to do whatever I wanted onstage (and off.) His friendly dismissal of my question gave me permission to be my own awesome self. And that’s what we all need in life to excel, to strive, to fly free of other people’s opinions.

This makes me wonder what else I may be holding back when I perform:
Am I able to be emotionally vulnerable? Some songs need tenderness; some need power.
Am I able to have a powerful presence onstage? Superstars aren’t afraid to use the entire stage, either physically or energetically; imagine Prince, Santana, James Brown, Beyonce…

I must remember – it’s a show! We are supposed to be larger than real life! We are supposed to create an ambiance, a space where the audience can participate in a fantasy of sorts if even for a few minutes. Actors on stage are never “themselves” – they are playing a role and we buy into that for the duration of the production.

That, dear readers, is my most challenging musical quest – to be able to be bigger than I am onstage, whether it be a simple open-mic or a full blown stage show. And though I mentioned some pretty outrageous superstars, there are many more laid-back performers, too. The point is, that we – you and I – have every right to develop our uniqueness and confidently present that quality when performing, whether you are just starting out or have been doing it for years (decades) as I have.

And I have a feeling that this path never ends – we simply get on it and, step by step, advance.

Please comment if you have any thoughts about this concept. Have you felt awkward being yourself? Why? What did you do about it? Knowing we are not alone is a comfort and motivator.

Thank you.

The Most Challenging Musical Quest – Part 2

This is the 2nd part of a discussion on performing and how one might go about unlocking their ability to better connect with their emotions. In part 1, I spoke of some personal experiences that helped me to unlock barriers that were keeping me from fully connecting with my full potential. In this – Part 2 – I hope to shed some light on how we can bravely clear the path for our success.

So now that you are giving yourself permission to be artistic…

Have you ever listened to a performance or recording and felt overcome with emotion to the point of tears? Has a certain chord or tone ever reached right into your very soul and spoke to you in a way words can’t quite describe? Have you ever felt a “connection” to a singer or musician despite never having actually making their acquaintance? Perhaps something in their performance reminded you of a personal experience you once had, or had fantasized about having. You might have, after imbibing some wine or other intoxicant, allowed yourself to fully “feel” the music in a way you hadn’t before.

I feel those emotions often. It feels as if the performer is sinding out a radio signal expanding in all directions and I, tuned into that wavelength at just the right time, am receiving every bit of it. Of course, not everyone gets the same message, as some listeners are tuned into a different frequency, are not ready to receive anything at that moment, or not able to relate to the message. And that’s okay.

But it’s really important to remember that last thing I just said: “It’s okay.” Just because the listener isn’t tuned in or ready to receive your message doesn’t mean you shouldn’t send/perform it anyway.

So now it’s your time to perform…

You might wish to think of a piece of art (song, painting, etc.) as a giant mirror pointing at the listener/viewer. Depending on their mood at the moment and/or their view of life in general, they will experience your art in a way that reflects their emotional state. Some may yearn for a happy and peppy piece that helps them forget about the troubles in their world, while others seek comfort in the company of others who find value in digging in deep into their emotions and facing their demons.

I mention this because: You are not responsible for how others see your work.

Remembering this can take a load off an artist’s mind, as there is simply no way one can please everyone else. Trying to guess what type of art everyone is going to want to experience at any given time is an effort in futility. Instead, if you, the artist, can tell your story; sing the songs that move you, and emote in the way you wish to express, then you will slowly but surely attract that audience who is tuned into your wavelength and vice versa.

There is a wonderful, short article by CD Baby founder, Derek Sivers, that sums up this concept. I encourage you to read this and everything else he has written: Proudly Exclude… https://sive.rs/exclude

But what are you going to do?

As the title of this article suggests, I have found that the most challenging of my artistic quests has been to discover, and more importantly trust, what it is I have to offer.

Have you ever had an idea of something to invent, thought it wasn’t going to work, and then later seen that someone else had the same idea and made it work?

I have many times. Once, back in the 80s, I had an idea for a bass line and soon thereafter Michael Jackson came out with his hit “Bad” which featured an almost identical bass line. Another time I “invented” a trigger for a spray paint can and later saw that someone else had already produced one. Again in the 80s I thought I might cut my hair short on one side and longer on the other; my hairdresser didn’t like the idea of an asymmetrical haircut and I dropped the idea. A few years later, everyone was doing it. What these examples tell me, is that my instincts were good; I had good ideas. What I didn’t have at the time was the know-how to take them to the next level.

I needed to trust my original ideas. We need to trust our original ideas.

To sum things up so far…

Part 1 of this article was directed to the subject of giving yourself permission to be creative; after all, you can’t go about doing, or even considering doing, something if you don’t allow yourself to.

Part 2 of this article has been about realizing that other people’s advice and their reactions to your choices aren’t always helpful. (Sure, asking for feedback can be very helpful, but be careful about over-trusting another’s biases.)

The Challenge remains…

Stay tuned for Part 3 where I, hopefully, share with you my artistic challenges and perhaps together discover our unique path we can take.

The Most Challenging Musical Quest – Part 1

My last article, which spoke of the many analogies I employ in talking about music, prompted a comment and question from PT, a former student, friend, and budding songstress who asked me to offer my thoughts about the emotional aspect of performing and communicating with an audience. I am happy to oblige – read on:



By far, the most challenging and elusive aspect of playing and performing music has not been in the acquiring of information such as theory and rhythm, but in the accessing of my deepest emotions – for once I had learned a few basic chords and strumming patterns, I had at my disposal the tools to say something; to share something of myself… but what would that something be?

Granted – after nearly 55 years of music study – I have learned a lot of musical information: chords, rhythms, and theory. I have been fortunate to play with some true music legends and through the act of recording, I have learned a considerable amount of technical knowledge about music and composition. Yet the challenge that lies ahead of me is the reckoning of my lifetime; my childhood experiences; the insecurities of young adulthood; the trials and errors of daily living; and my current acceptance of who I am. Acknowledging my personal history and playing music from that perspective is what will allow me to better connect to others as a unique performer. And being a unique performer is my goal, for when we strive to simply copy or mimic a true artist, we are mired in a pool of competition and comparisons. It is only by discovering our individual qualities that we can escape that trap.

It is doubtful that in describing a musical legend, you compare them to another: “Oh, Jimi Hendrix sounded just like…,” or “Doesn’t Bob Dylan sound like…?” “I like listening to Billie Holiday because she sang just like…”

I am confident in saying that these legends were certainly influenced by others, but at some point they had to abandon the path their role model walked and discover their own.

I might offer you my own example of this: as a young guitarist, I fell in love with the playing of Carlos Santana and dedicated many years of learning his solos note for note, reading everything I could about him, and I even had the pleasure of meeting him at his home, (followed by him presenting me with backstage passes for an upcoming show at The Greek Theater in Berkeley.) And as I, too, am of Mexican heritage, I felt a strong connection with him and his music. I felt I would do anything he asked of me and it was that dedication to his teachings that I encountered the first of what continues to challenge me: he said (and I paraphrase) “you need to be unique and not copy others.” I felt this to be a bittersweet “adios” to my musical guru, for as much as I admired him and felt he spoke for me, I had to strike out on my own and find my voice instead of trying to emulate his.

So now what?

I can only offer you my own story as to how you might progress, as I am certain that a dozen artists would give you a dozen unique perspectives. Please consider my input here as a mere suggestion of how to blaze your own artistic path.

Redefine yourself.

Our self-image can help define ourselves and keep us true to our path, but a perceived self-image can hold us back as well. Holding on to statements such as “I am not good at…,” “Oh, I could never…,” or “I’d be too embarrassed to…” are the kind of emotional contracts that hold us to what may or may not have at some time, been true, but that don’t represent how we might have subtlety changed, or wish to change.

Another set of personal examples happened when I lived in San Francisco in the 90s. I moved there on a whim to see how life was outside of my hometown of Santa Cruz, 75 miles to the south. Living near the Haight-Ashbury area, I somehow came to want to wear a black leather jacket and heavy black leather boots – something far from the well-worn Levis and flannel shirts I was accustomed to. How strange I felt wearing this “costume” – and felt as though everyone could see that that wasn’t who I really was. But it was just a costume – much like the Levis and flannel – it was just something I was wearing. It didn’t define me and I could put it on or take it off at any time. But it took me quite awhile to get used to it.

Around that same time I began playing percussion with a band that played an exotic blend of Middle Eastern and hippy-tribal music. My given name, Ron, didn’t seem very exotic to me and I thought I might find another name for myself, but I liked my name and thought about how I might keep it while changing it at the same time. I was, also at that time, taking a course at the Ali Akbar Khan College of Music in San Rafael, learning to play tabla. Khan… I thought. Perhaps I could simply spell my name differently. Rhan… that’s it. A simple spelling change, yet though my name sounded the same, it was new, and I could rewrite my story to accommodate my new persona. While the old Ron was a bit insecure and adverse to change, the new Rhan was a performer and unafraid to try new things. While the old Ron once was uncomfortable wearing a bright blue set of sweatpants (as opposed to the usual grey), the new Rhan would wear anything – and did. Such a simple trick of the mind I discovered that day.

Change your name – if even for a day.

I have often suggested in the workshops I teach, that we experiment with a “stage” name – either a simple spelling change like mine, or an alter ego – anything that can help to expand your boundaries. You can even refer to yourself in the third person: “[Your name] has no problem performing in front of other people. In fact, [your name] will be surprising everyone soon with the confidence and creativity they are finding in themselves.” No one has to witness this experiment of yours, so there is nothing to lose. It’s just a way to begin to see yourself embodying some of the traits you wish you had.

All this has been about allowing yourself to perform; to express yourself.

Now that you have, hopefully, given yourself permission to even consider performing and expressing yourself by way of song or other display, what is it that you are going to do? You have before you eager ears to learn about you and what makes you tick.

You may feel pressured to do something amazing and quite out of your league, but consider this: being yourself is something you’ve been doing your whole life. The only “new” thing you are now doing is to “frame” it in the form of a presentation for others to witness and you, as the expert on your own life, needn’t worry. You will do just fine.

Stay tuned for Part 2

Playing Music with a Microwave

A lot of people come to me for music lessons and what I have learned is that I must first ask of them this question: “Do you want to learn to play music, or do you want to be able to just heat something up in the microwave?”

Now that I’ve possibly confused you with this horrible mixed metaphor – allow me to explain: If one were to take a cooking class, it’s doubtful that a good teacher would spend much time, if any, on how to take a package out of the freezer, place it in the microwave, and serve it. Instead, the student would learn a variety of basics: how to use measuring utensils, proper knife techniques, doubling portions, etc.; beginning with simple recipes, moving on to more sophisticated ones, and eventually learning to create sumptuous meals from scratch.

So when a student comes to me with the goal of learning how to play their favorite song or play along with their weekend community sing-along, I start them off with the basics: how to count in time, basic chords, simple charts/songsheets; incorporating little bits of theory and knowledge along the way – all towards the goal of teaching them to play “from scratch” – that is, being able to play along with others with or without music to follow.

But they often lose interest and are discouraged because they thought that, somehow, there were shortcuts they could use to avoid having to learn; that there were the equivalents of “microwave-ready” music skills they could master in a few minutes that would require little or no effort that they could use in all situations forever.

Playing music doesn’t really work that way.

Take conversing, for instance: you can’t really learn a few stock sentences and simply place them into a conversation and expect them to make sense every time. As children beginning to talk, we learn how to substitute words and to change from past to future tense as needed. Each conversation is unique and we must be able to keep up with what’s being said.

And so it is with playing music. You simply can’t learn a trick of two and expect to use it in all situations. Tempos change, arrangements vary, and unexpected hiccups occur, even in a well rehearsed number.

But these are not difficult challenges. If you learn the basics, adjusting your tempo mid song is as easy as adding a teaspoon of water to thin out a sauce. That difficult sounding chord you’ve been avoiding? You just may find out it’s a simple as adding a little Dijon mustard to a sauce you already know how to make.

There’s nothing wrong with “zapping” a burrito now and then, but when you’ve taken the time to learn to gather a few items from the fridge, add a bit of seasoning, and cook them up into a delicious, satisfying meal – there’s nothing like it.

And when you pick up your favorite instrument, strum a few chords, and make up a song (or figure out an existing one) – you won’t believe the joy and sense of satisfaction you will feel.

Learning is like glitter…

Have you ever been present when there’s glitter thrown around or opened a card containing the some of the shiny stuff? It gets everywhere. Some of it lands on you where you can see it; some of it lands on the floor; and some of it, despite your best efforts to sweep it all up and throw away, is found later hidden in some pocket or crease in your clothing.

What if we imagined that learning is similar to having glitter tossed about us?

When we try to learn something it often seems that too much information has been thrown about, and that much of it lands on the floor and is wasted. We might have picked up a couple of bits of information, like the glitter that lands on us visibly, but after we process that information (cleaned up and vacuumed the floor) we might think that we learned all that we could at the time.

But like glitter, some of that information gets lodged in some cranny of our brains without our knowing it, and is likely to resurface at some time in the future.

Be on the lookout for those random glittery bits of information. And be confident that more will surface in time.