Last week, I was fortunate enough to see the jazz guitarist Kurt Rosenwinkel live with Allan Holdsworth at Eric Clapton’s Crossroads festival in NYC. I wasn’t familiar with his work but left with a great admiration for his mastery and craft - him and Allan really stood out in a sea of pentatonic licks and machismo shredding. I’ve since bought several of his albums and have them on infinite loop in my mp3 player. I’ve been a huge fan of big band ever since I discovered the music of Charles Mingus and this music and video are simply phenomenal at what they do. It leaves me with with a thousand questions and thousands of ideas for my own compositions. I sometimes wonder if jazz musicians admire what classical musicians can do in the same way that I admire what they can do. 

On a side note, while I appreciate Eric Clapton and his presenters for doing such a fantastic job bringing an array of guitarists together for this 5 hour marathon, I have to call them out for not having EVEN ONE featured act be a woman. Seriously? What decade are we living in where the only announced woman of the entire 5-hour evening was essentially a backup singer for Doyle Bramhall II?  We left the event determined to buy any future daughter of ours an electric guitar and take her to see all the great female guitar players out there. I mean, if Beyonce and Michael Jackson can tour the world with female shredders, it’s not clear to me why the Crossroads festival can’t find a lead spot for a single woman in a lineup of 30 guitar acts. What message did that send to all the young women in the audience? My wife and I were not alone in this thinking. Shameful!

Nothing in the world can take the place of Persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent. The slogan ‘Press On’ has solved and always will solve the problems of the human race. - Calvin Coolidge

I want to tell you a story, trust me when I say the story has a happy ending. Back in late October, I finally, finally, completed a project that was roughly 2 years in the making, I released my debut solo album, “Something New.” I can honestly say that I can’t remember a time in my life where I have undergone anything as psychologically and emotionally demanding for such an extended duration. Now that I've had several months to reflect on things, I’d like to synthesize some thoughts…as part of the healing process. :-p

When I first embarked on this journey, a colleague of mine warned me of the sorts of emotional toils making the CD could create. When she made her own solo CD she suffered so much psychological trauma that she thought she had developed physical ailments that made it impossible to play the violin. Several doctor visits later it was made evident it was all in her head. I’m not certain if I got to that point, but I did undergo at least a year of CD-related anxiety and stress, and even suffered a bout of despair when I realized a virtuosic arrangement I had made and invested dozens of hours in had to be scrapped from the project. 

Picture yourself showing up for your first recording date, armed with a ton of virtuosic music that you’ve spent years researching, composing, re-composing, and arranging. You are on the clock and don’t have time to warm-up. Should I have changed my strings a day earlier? There are a dozen microphones facing off with your entire field of vision. Did I play that too fast? There is a man in a cordoned off room talking at you through a speaker about everything you could be doing better. Did I bend that string out of tune last take? The heat from the spotlights is knocking you out of tune. Should I have filed my nails differently? You know some part of what you record on this one day of your life is going to eventually be the permanent finished product. No, it was too slow! It is just you, and you knowing that all of the success or failure of the project rests entirely and literally in your hands. This is just a taste of the first day in the studio, and an example of why the process forces one to either let go, or go insane. 

After intermittently undertaking these sessions for a year, I was left with several hours of recordings and soon learned that a CD is actually made on the editing room floor. You sift through hours and hours of takes in order to build a coherent and enduring musical statement. Make different choices, get a completely different CD. And of course, some trade-offs have to be made: Do you choose perfect intonation or precision? Do you choose the beautiful vibrato on the 7th eighth note, or the take where you spontaneously moved your right hand an inch in the other direction to get a different timbre?…etc. etc. I can think of nothing more tedious than the hours I spent making these choices during the summer of 2012. 

Though, now that I’ve come through the other end of the process, I actually think finishing and releasing this CD is one of the proudest achievements of my career. And I learned so many lessons from the undertaking that every time I’ve recorded in the studio since has been much easier. It’s been thrilling to hear praise from colleagues and see people from around the world enjoying my art, and [UPDATE] As of August 2013 the CD was reviewed in Classical Guitar Magazine and was given high praise for being “beautifully played and recorded." 

I’ve concluded that it’s likely impossible for artists to fairly evaluate their art because it’s too personal for us. Sometimes I listen to my album and think there are moments of true originality and brilliance. Other times all I can hear are the things I would have done differently if I had more time and resources. But at some point, you have to let go and put your art out into the world, because nothing is perfect, and waiting around for perfection is a surefire way to never put out anything. 

All I can say for certain is that I know the album is sincere, and has something worthwhile to say, and that means a lot to me. As the famed guitarist Julian Bream - who also disliked the recording process- said at the end of his book A Life on the Road, “I don’t think I’m a great artist, but I know I’m a good one, and that I have got something to say, however modest. And I am happy to be alive, and to be able to say it and say it [through music] with some eloquence to people.”

Until the next one. - Thomas 

This past weekend I had the great privilege of premiering my first guitar duet in the esteemed Brooklyn Conservatory of Music as part of a benefit concert. I was joined by the wonderful guitarist Madeleine Davidson, who commissioned the piece for the event -as well as several other wonderful musicians who contributed that day. 

The piece is called Ten Kingdoms and is based on the writings of the 16th century Spanish friar Bartolome de las Casas, who famously documented the atrocities committed by the Spaniards in the Americas. After a friend on facebook posted a video citing his writings, I immediately bought his work “A Short Account of the Destruction of the Indies” and couldn’t put it down. He begins the book by mentioning how “no fewer than ten kingdoms” had been completely depopulated and then goes on to describe the process and events that led to this devastation. A pretty amazing history lesson you probably skipped in school. 

At the concert, we premiered the first movement, which is based on the text: “Those that arrived from the remotest parts of Spain…and who pride themselves in the name of Christians.” It imagines the excited feelings of those Spaniards setting off on the perilous and naive voyage for riches in the New World; completely oblivious to the events that await them and the natives. 

The audience seemed to really enjoy the work; with its inappropriate joyfulness and dark subtext. I’m very grateful that it was so well-received, and I’m even more excited now about finishing the other movements I’ve sketched out, as soon as I get some more time and knowledge. Until then…Thomas

Pilgrimage -  “a journey or search of moral or spiritual significance." 

Baptism - "a trying or purifying experience, potentially of thought and character.”

I recently returned from my own two-week pilgrimage to my home state of California this month. I went with some friends to climb the 14,179 ft snow-capped peaks of Mt. Shasta, and to baptize myself in the spectacular and sacred Klamath Native American site of Crater Lake - which the tribe used for vision quests for centuries. It was a welcome bookend to one of the most demanding years of my professional life and I am a better man for having done it. 

I am not entirely sure what I was searching for this trip, but I suppose some part of me was looking for a little perspective on the year’s events - big concerts, new faculty appointments, working on CD edits etc. In short, I was looking to do something legitimately ‘hard,’ as opposed to something merely tedious or stressful; to better understand the distinctions between the three.

I’ve been ascending the peaks of California since I was a teenager and it was good to return home. Climbing a mountain has a funny and helpful way of trivializing a lot of things in life. You are forced to contemplate the possibility of your -or your companion’s- demise; to push yourself by overcoming pain, nausea, fatigue, and sleep deprivation; to ponder infinity in comparison to your own worldly aspirations. I find that climbing is a good way to take time each year to do these things in a sustained way, lest one get absorbed in the daily ups and downs of the rat-race.

All in all, it was a fantastic trip. We reached the summit of Mt. Shasta with many adventures along the way, met numerous travelers going through life in numerous ways (model scale train enthusiasts, Spencer: The world’s alleged best waiter, a nostalgic widow, a petrified but trash-talking cliff jumper, etc.). And I can think of no better way to baptize oneself than the way we took a 15-foot leap of faith into the purifying 38 degree water of Crater Lake. 

As the summer winds down and I prepare for a new concert season, I am thankful to be alive, to have good friends and colleagues, and to keep searching for a place to do all things tedious, stressful, hard, and beautiful with this gift of music. I’ll meet you there. -Thomas

Back in November my guitar duo with Christopher Mallett, Duo Noire, played an outreach concert at Lyons at Blow Elementary as part of our artist residency for the St. Louis Classical Guitar Society. Recently, the society continued the relationship with the music teacher there, Mark Clark, and donated 40 guitars to the school to begin a classical guitar program. I am absolutely thrilled that Chris and I got to play a part in the truly awesome work that the St Louis Guitar Society and society president Bill Ash are doing. Here is a Fox news video and article about the donation:

http://fox2now.com/2012/04/13/guitar-gift-hopes-to-inspire-grade-schoolers/#ooid=g5dWhnNDpsvLRLc3NVCp1atibNck4ifj

And here’s a link to the St Louis Classical Guitar Society where you can make donations to their programs and help them get classical guitars in more low-income public schools!

http://www.guitarstlouis.net/

Starting at 8:10, there’s an interesting discussion by Alvaro Pierri on what truly makes a good classical guitarist. It reminded me of how my former teacher Ben Verdery would sometimes mention the Buddhist teaching that one should always strive to keep “a beginner’s mind.” A lot of wisdom coming from both of those men…

Footage from a concert I gave this summer in Philadelphia at the Church of the Holy Trinity. One of my favorite pieces for guitar: the prelude from Federico Mompou’s Suite Compostelana.

Chicago, Illinois - It’s finally done! A few weeks ago I got serious about finishing my piece Scenes from America and devoted all of my free time towards completing the Chicago, Illinois movement. I’m very happy with it and definitely think the tons of rewrites and time that went into this were worthwhile. This movement took me a good year to fully realize, delayed my CD, and generally caused me a ton of anxiety and grief throughout 2011. Sheesh! 

I think it took so long because Chicago is a very special place for me. I lived there for four years while I was getting schooled (literally and figuratively) at the University of Chicago. I spent countless nights taking in the local jazz clubs, symphony shows, and theater productions. I gave my debut recital at Chicago’s Smart Museum. I was in Chicago when I learned that my mother had died, and it was in Chicago that I met and later married my wife. Needless to say, Chicago and I have HISTORY, and it took time to put that history into the music.

The piece is an homage to one of my favorite composers, jazz bassist Charles Mingus, and it was also inspired by the work I’ve done with soprano Alicia Hall Moran and pianist Jason Moran. All three of them seamlessly blend classical music and jazz into a unified and original narrative and have been huge inspirations for me. As a result, the piece starts and ends with a basic jazz head but morphs into a more intense classical baroque texture in the middle. This texture gets increasingly complex and modern (paralleling my university music studies) and then we are brought back to the opening theme. After this recapitulation, an exotic scale run blows in and takes us away (from the city, from loved ones, and from my adolescence). At least, that’s the story I hear. 

So, Scenes from America Vol.1 is done. CD coming soon. Hopefully the next piece I write will come a little easier and be a little less heavy- perhaps some Romanza variations :-).- Thomas

New York, New York. This is the next piece in my Scenes from America series. Last fall, I was asked to write a piece for the wonderful NYC guitarist Kenji Haba. I decided to write one about the city since I had been spending a lot of time there. It’s fitting that I did since I ended up moving to Manhattan mere days before Kenji premiered this work in a city church (pictured below).

The piece tries to do three things. It tries to convey the idea of a “New York Minute,” to juxtapose the calm sanctuary of the Grand Central trains vs. the claustrophobia and chaos that I feel once I am bombarded by the exiting crowds, and to express the unrelenting industrial drive that could create and sustain such an empire. Basically, it’s a day-trip to the city.

Although my music has been performed before, this was the first time I was actually able to be in the concert audience, and it was a wonderful experience. It was also an honor to be involved with Vox Novus and the great work they are doing for new music and homeless advocacy at Jan Hus Church. All in all, having my piece “New York, NY” premiered in NYC the week that my wife and I moved here made for a nice welcome to our new home. So far so good.

Curiously enough, the atmosphere of tension and excitement is favorable to a good performance. -Arthur Rubinstein, My Young Years

Luckily, tension and excitement abounded this week in my Philadelphia debut. Aside from having two concerts with completely different music, I also had to finish up my teaching for the semester, attend my wife’s ordination in Long Island, and prepare for our move to Manhattan this month! Tension and excitement indeed…

This time, the Fates brought me to West Chester University for another iteration of Alicia Hall Moran’s “Motown Project,” a highly original fusion of classical and Motown music that examines race and class vis-a-vis the American experience. The concert was for the West Chester Poetry Conference, one of the largest of its kind in the country. It was a multi-day affair and we closed out the week’s events. It’s an honor whenever I am surrounded by such talented musicians, and I can earnestly say that we really turned it on and ended up performing a truly unique, artistic, and downright moving set. The standing ovation we received was a welcome acknowledgement of our sweat (must have been 80 degrees in the theater at one point!), and it was a blast.  

The next concert was a solo recital for Church of the Holy Trinity in the heart of Rittenhouse Square -the main park area in Philadelphia. It was in an absolutely gorgeous church sanctuary with unbelievable acoustics for guitar. For the first time in my life, I found myself in the rare predicament of actually having too MUCH music prepared for a recital. But, I feel that I’ve finally found a set of music that truly speaks to me on an emotional level, and this allowed me to fully “let go” and focus solely on expressing my love for these pieces. In short, I felt really “on” that day and was completely immersed in the moment. It’s a spectacular feeling. The audience was right there with me and it was a genuine pleasure to share an afternoon of art-making with everyone in that space.

Thank you Philly for such a warm welcome, you’ve won me over. Video from the recital will be coming in the next few weeks. Let me know what you think by clicking on the URL link below. -Thomas