Larry's Mind

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noreply@blogger.com (Larry) — Thu, 29 Apr 2010 20:39:00 +0000

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Gung Hay Fat Choy!

noreply@blogger.com (Larry) — Mon, 15 Feb 2010 03:54:00 +0000

Did you ever wonder where figure skating music comes from? And the outfits? Figure skating is such a beautiful sport, a wonderful combination of grace and athleticism. But why must everything else about be so aesthetically jarring?

The music is just plain weird: overblown, sometimes quasi-symphonic, other times quasi-ethnic. Where does it come from? Is there a whole segment of the music industry that is dedicated to figure skating music? It's somewhat akin to the music played at Hollywood awards shows, or maybe at Disney World. But why isn't a regular symphonic or pop piece of music good enough? Is this terrible music really easier to skate to?

And the costumes--those silky, sheer fabrics. Those flesh-colored panels that are supposed to look like skin from a distance. The sequins. They look like rejects from Elton John's dressing room. Do the people involved look at these say, "Oh, wow. That makes me look really cool. Do you have anything a little more shiny and garish?"

Could I Be Back?

noreply@blogger.com (Larry) — Sat, 13 Feb 2010 19:09:00 +0000

I got an e-mail out of the blue the other day from someone who had become a fan of Julia Dales (the Canadian teenage human beat box phenom) after seeing a YouTube video of her on this blog. Like most human beings, I like to be liked, so knowing that someone was actually reading and being influenced by this blog was inspirational. But is blogging really for me? I don't know. I am told that you have to stick with it for it to amound to anything. I have a lot of things I'm already stuck to--work, family, guitar practice--that I don't know if I can realistically be stuck to anything else.

There's been a lot of changes in my musical life over the past few months. I don't know if it is all good or bad; it's just changes. I'm interested again in playing songs, and wouldn't you know it, I have several song-related projects, or almost-projects, going right now. Deb Colvin-Tener, who some of you might remember from my old band Hipswitch, and I did a very successful evening of songs by Bertolt Brecht at the OSU Urban Arts Space last November, something we're repeating on February 27 up at Bela Dubby in Lakewood, OH (western suburb of Cleveland). We also starting digging into the great American songbook and did a succesfful jazz gig at Espresso Yourself in Powell, OH, the other week. I've also done a couple of gigs with Tom Davis, an extremely talented younger guitar player here in Columbus. He's one of the only jazz musicians I've ever worked with who really knows the old standards, words and all. Like a lot of jazz musicians, I'm sometimes guilty of viewing standards as vehicles for blowing over changes, not as real songs that mean something. He's really inspired me to think about these tunes anew.

I'm also planning a project with my friends Nick Mancini and Lori Parsley, who I used to play with in their band The Sure Things. We're planning on getting togther as a band and learning about 10 classic county/rock tunes and see where it goes. Nick and Lori are two of my favorite people to work with. They're smart, serious, and know music really well. They are also excellent, excellent singers. And today, out of the blue, my old friend Eileen Motok contacted me about getting together for guitar lessons, and possibly some gigs. Eileen, too, is an excellent singer. Our daughters went to preschool together, and she contacted me a few years back to start teaching her guitar, and I think she wants to bring her skills to the next level. This will all be good.

I don't think I'm giving up my more experimental side, though. The Marotta Hour concert series that I've been curating at the OSU Urban Arts space is by far the most successful series I've even promoted. I've been extremely blessed with an extremely supportive gallery staff whose expectations are perfectly in line with what a new music series in Columbus, Ohio, can realistically accomplish. Ironically, by not demanding huge audiences and piles of money from me, the series has been allowed to grow to a point that the average audience is a lot bigger than I ever imagined that it could be, and my acts are sometimes making a nice amount of money for their time. I'm also happy that I'm able to be diverse. I've had electronic stuff, free improv, singers, songs, and no one seems to have been alienated by the eclecticism. This is all good. I hope this lasts for a long while.

As far as my improv actiivities go, I'm not sure where I'm heading. I don't feel like I've ever quite hit a level of success that I would have hoped for as an improvising guitarist (success, of course, being an extremely relative term in this case). I'm concerned that I've spent a lot of my time trying to adapt my playing in a way to get more work and interest in what I do, but I am concerned that I am getting further and further away from what I would play if I played whatever it was I wanted to play.

I think my general direction right now is to do whatever I want to do, work with whoever asks me to work with them, with no particular agenda. Present the package of what I do and see who is interested in it and what actually sticks. You see, there is a benefit to aging--you finally start figuring stuff out!

What a Difference a Day Makes?

noreply@blogger.com (Larry) — Fri, 05 Jun 2009 20:34:00 +0000

Last Friday, improvising with Ryan Jewell and Ben Bennett at the Robinwood Concert House up in Toledo.

The next day, scouting for frogs, snakes, and baby turtles with my daughter.

Strangely enough, improvising with musicians and looking for reptiles and amphibians in a murky pond are very similar activities. In fact, they're just about the same thing.

Toledo? Toledo!

noreply@blogger.com (Larry) — Thu, 28 May 2009 14:10:00 +0000

If it haven't said it before, one of the rewards of getting older is seeing the world improve. It is cliche for older folk to opine about the sad state of the modern world and point back to some Ozzie and Harriet time when everything was as sweet as orange sherbert and 7-Up. But so much seems so much better to me than when I was a kid.

One of my greatest joys is to see the notion of two or three dominant music centers surrounded by an ocean of mediocrity slowly disappear. You can no longer say that the only good music comes from New York, or Berlin, or London, or Osaka.

Living in a medium-sized city myself (16th largest in the US!), this issue is near and dear to my heart. When I moved to Ohio from the east coast in 1990, I got a lot of attitude from some of my east coast friends and family about moving to the heartland. Some of them still don't understand it and assume that I must live in the middle of a corn field (which wouldn't be such a bad thing, now that I reflect upon it). Since I came here, I have always been impressed by the amount of talented people, and we have an excellent new music scene.

There are certain benefits to doing new music in a city like Columbus. First of all, there is not a tremendous amount of competition for a limited audience. Usually there is just one key show going on at one time. Another thing, it is a lot easier to set up gigs because there is no cut-throat comepetition for a limited number of gigs. And there aren't a few experimental superstars who rule our scene that everyone else has to suck up to. There are not arch hipsters too whom everyone looks for guidance. Our free music scene is actually pretty free.

So in one week, you can see analog noise at Skylab, fringe rock at Cafe Bourbon Street, punk at the Legion of Doom, free improv at the OSU Urban Arts Space, and -- the latest member of our community -- the New Music Collective at Ohio State who very ably presented works by Stockhausen, Feldman, Reich, and others at a concert last weekend.

So now Toledo has been getting to the act. Our colleague Gabe from the KBD group has been presenting house concerts with great success. At this stage in my career, house concerts are probably my favorite performance venue. The acoustics are good and you feel really connected with the audience. It suits quiet free improv really well.

So this Friday, Gabe has...

Jack Wright (sax) and Bob Marsh (violin) duo

Ryan Jewell (drums), Larry Marotta (guitar), Ben Bennett (drums) trio

fluxmonkey (electronics) and J. Guy Laughlin (drums) duo

Music starts at 9.

The Robinwood Concert House is at 2564 Robinwood Ave., Toledo

There is more information about the concert at http://toledobellows.wordpress.com.

Pimalia/Smatterings/Amazon

noreply@blogger.com (Larry) — Wed, 27 May 2009 21:01:00 +0000

Loyal listener and supporter, I need your help!

Pimalia, the label which has been releasing my silent film soundtracks, has secured a promotional deal with Amazon (yep, that Amazon) in which Amazon is offering Smatterings, our CD label sampler, for free download. (FYI, my track is Anemic Cinema.) Obviously, we're trying to create as much of a buzz as we can while we have this rare opportunity.

So how can you help? It's easy!

1. Download the CD. It's free and there's good stuff on it.

2. Write a short review and post it to Amazon.

And that's all you have to do!

Could this be success?

noreply@blogger.com (Larry) — Tue, 26 May 2009 03:11:00 +0000

Well, once again the Marotta Hour series at the OSU Urban Arts Space went very well last Thursday, May 21. We had about 30 people out -- a big success in my world -- and everyone seemed happy, including the performers, who made a decent amount of money. At this point, I almost have to think that I am finally being successful at this new music promotion business. By eight months, any initial honeymoon period should be long over, and I am continuing to see new audience members at each show. At this performance, there were even people who left. This means that folks are taking a chance on these shows; it's not always the same people, the initiated.

I'm still puzzled that with the series at an odd time -- 7 p.m. on a Thursday -- and in a bad place -- downtown Columbus, which dies after 5 p.m. -- that everything seems to be working. Maybe by doing everything different, everything is in the correct alignment this time.

I'm not sure if I know how to deal with this.

Film Scoring Project

noreply@blogger.com (Larry) — Thu, 21 May 2009 04:04:00 +0000

I heard from Kino International and they would like me to contribute some soundtracks to volume three of their Avant Garde silent movie series. I've had scores on Volume 1 and Volume 2, so I am thrilled to be asked to be part of volume three. I'm not sure what films I'll be scoring yet, but it should be about 45 minutes total with a due date of July 1. Kino usually has pretty quick turnaround times on their projects, but I tend to work better under that sort of pressure.

It's interesting to me how much the technology to score films has changed since my last project with Kino three years ago. Now, even with the basic GarageBand program that comes with the MacBook you can play the video file of the film and play right along very, very simply. When I did my Buster Keaton project in 2001, we used an elaborate system of VCR and computer all rigged together. It wasn't that simple and it didn't always work. Now I can plug my keyboard into the Mac via USB and have a sketch of a score very simply. It's one of those times when you realize that technology is an amazing thing. It really makes some of the traditionally complicated and expensive media like film and CDs pretty readily attainable for anyone.

I can't really prepare until I see the movies I'm given, but I am starting to get into the mindset.

What's most exciting is that I can release the scores on Pimalia and have the release coincide with the release of the DVD. That should be pretty cool.

Beat Box Wildcard

noreply@blogger.com (Larry) — Mon, 18 May 2009 03:50:00 +0000

I was amazed as anyone to hear what sorts of sounds a 17-year-old girl from Canada can make with her mouth. Julia Dales rocks!

What struck me more than anything else is the amount of time someone would have to put in to do this sort of thing. It's also not the sort of thing that could be practiced quietly, which means your family would have to be listening to these sounds all the time. As someone who devoted much of his music time making funny sounds on guitar, I can relate to the strain this can cause to others.

Marotta Hour Series #8, May 21

noreply@blogger.com (Larry) — Fri, 15 May 2009 15:32:00 +0000

It's hard to believe that we are up to show eight of the Hour Series at the Urban Arts Space. The gallery has treated me really well and continues to make me feel welcome. Which, of course, allows us to bring shows to Columbus that we might not see otherwise.

This month we have, from Boston, Vic Rawlings (above) on cello/electronics with Steve Norton on saxophone plus local boy Ryan Jewell on drums. Should be a pretty killer trio. Opening the show will be a duo with Kurt Johnson from the band Lozenge on bass and me on guitar. I'm really excited about this one.

The the details are the usual:

7-8 p.m. Thursday, May 21

OSU Urban Arts Space

50 W. Town Street (in the old Lazarus building)

downtown Columbus

Admission by donation ($5-$10 if you have it to give)

Smatterings

noreply@blogger.com (Larry) — Wed, 13 May 2009 19:53:00 +0000

I just learned that the label that releases by film scores, Pimalia, has struck a deal with Amazon.com to feature the entire album of Smatterings as an exclusive free download beginning May 19 and ending July 19. Smatterings is a CD that features tracks from all of the Pimalia artists. The CD will be promoted at Amazon's online store and in their email newsletter that gets sent to every one who has ever purchased a download from Amazon in the past.

This is a big huge deal, especially for someone who is lucky to sell a few CDRs a year. Now, potentially thousands of people may hear us.

As soon as I get the link, I'll post it here. Maybe you'll be motivated to write a review? Who knows.

Jazz gig #25239

noreply@blogger.com (Larry) — Tue, 12 May 2009 18:02:00 +0000

Honk, Wail, and Moan played a reception to honor volunteer ushers at the Wexner Center last evening. Since the head of the usher team is our friend, Zach (who, BTW, was also single-handedly responsible for booking free jazz in Columbus for several years), I had feeling that we would get treated well. The entire event took place on the stage at Mershon Auditorium. I quickly learned how good the acoustics were when I kept trying to turn the reverb down on my amp and I discovered that the concert-hall sound was provided by, of all things, a concert hall. Even at a very low volume, I got a nice slap-back echo from the back of the hall.

It was a small version of the group: Steve Perakis on bass, Mark Donovan on sax, Geoff Sullivan on drums, and me on guitar. The contract had it that we were supposed to start playing about 6, play about 45 minutes, have a long break while everyone ate and announcements were made, and then an hour-long set of dance music after dinner. As it turned out, we played about 45 minutes. Then, the dinner and announcements that followed went on a lot longer than expected, so we had something like a two-hour break. By the time we could play again, it was 9 0'clock, which was our specified quitting time. So we ended up playing only a couple of tunes at the end of the night. So, three-hour gig, and we probably played only one total hour of music. The pay is the same, though.

It was one of those feed-the-musicians gigs, which are always appreciated by us musicians, especially when you're playing a dinner-time gig. If I haven't stated this clearly enough in the past, you will always get the best out of the contracted band by feeding them and giving them drinks -- basically treating them like human beings. If not, we will ally ourselves with the kitchen and service staff and share our contempt of you, the employer.

A nice surprise was seeing my friend, Ann, who used to work with me at my day job, who was the guest of one of the ushers. She's a funky girl, a Janeane Garofalo-type who plays guitar in a garage rock band called The True Moves. It was nice to talk Meat Puppets and Jane's Addiction in the middle of a jazz gig. It sound like her new day job with a major corporation is going well.

I spent some time hanging out in the green room. In true geek fashion, I tried to imagine who has hung out in that very space. Did Kronos Quartet play cards in the conversation pit? Was that the chair Wayne Shorter sat in? Did Laurie Anderson use that bathroom? I can be easily amused sometimes.

Music-wise, it was a straight standards sort of gig: All the Things You Are, Paper Moon, and You Stepped Out of a Dream. We did throw in one of the more straight-ahead Sun Ra tunes, and the audience, many of whom were dressed in costume for for a Hollywood costume contest, seemed to dig it. They actually nodded. There are three types of audience nodding. There's the nodding off, and no one wants that. Then there's nodding one's head in time to the music. I think that would be desirable if you were the Average White Band. The sort of nodding we got were hipster nods of approval, slow and deliberate and focused, the sort of nod that says "yeah, man, cool."

I'm sorry we didn't get to play more because it was a nice, appreciative audience. However, I doubted if anyone would dance. They most definitely didn't look like a dancing crowd.

The return of paying gigs

noreply@blogger.com (Larry) — Sat, 09 May 2009 01:12:00 +0000

Well, true to my word, I've actually started to work at getting some paying music gigs now that my daughter is going to private middle school next year. I've got a paying gig Monday at the Wexner Center playing a film reception. This gig has been on the books for some time, so it just happens to be landing at the time when I'm looking for more work. It's going to be a small ensemble. Steve Perakis is the leader, so it will probably have some other Honk, Wail, and Moan folks.

But I actually also booked a jazz gig of my own. It's Saturday, June 6, at the Espresso Yourself Music Cafe up in Powell, on the northwest end of the city. It's a really quaint place in an old church, very warm and homey, with a really mellow staff. I've already asked Ted Royalty to play vibes on this one. He and I did a gig at the Unitarian Universalist Church a few years back and the electric guitar and vibes really blend well together, and I was hoping to do something with him again sometime. I'm glad the chance has arisen. I'd also like to get a bassist on the gig, too, but no drums. I'm definitely thinking old school, Pablo Records jazz for this one.

Since it is my first time up there as a leader, I'll be working on getting people out to the gig. If the group works out, I'd like to try to get it into more situations, maybe at some nicer restaurants in town.

I swore years ago that if I couldn't play the music I wanted, I didn't want to be a professional musician. My dad was a professional drummer, and he spent a lot of his life playing crappy music he didn't want to play. I just didn't want to do that. However, it is always nice to have another skill that can serve as an additional resource when you need it.

The Return of Math

noreply@blogger.com (Larry) — Thu, 07 May 2009 20:18:00 +0000

Here is one of my first sound experiments using PureData for all of the world to see. Yes, I am kind of proud of myself, although it looks suspiciously like one of the logic proofs I studied in college.

After all of these years, I am finally directly seeing what all of that math I didn't get in school meant. Logarithms, exponents, trig functions: they all actually mean something? I find myself angry with all of my math teachers for not showing me how any of this meant anything, when sound synthesis illustrates all of these mathematical principles extremely clearly. My theory is that most of them didn't know themselves that math meant anything. It was little more than a sort of high-level sudoku.

Math teachers, in my experience, weren't a whole lot different than PE teachers (and there is a special circle in hell reserved for PE teachers, but that's another post). They very quickly favored the kids who got it, and weren't particularly good at teaching the rest of us. Well, I'm getting math now without your help.

Don't worry, though. I channel all of these unresolved resentments into music. Society is safe, as long as it wears earplugs.

Happy birthday, Bill Ward

noreply@blogger.com (Larry) — Wed, 06 May 2009 03:55:00 +0000

Photo courtesy of www.billward.com.

Today is the 61st birthday of Bill Ward, drummer of Black Sabbath on their classic 70s albums. As any decent musician knows, your band is only as good as -- or as terrible as -- your drummer. It is hard to manage the Stones without Charlie ("Beast of Burden" would not be the same song). Pagey, Percy, and Jonesy knew that it didn't make sense to continue without Bonzo. And the Who was a very different band after Who Are You.

In theses cases, Watts, Bonham, and Moon are three musicians with very distictive styles. When thinking of either of them, it is easy to conjure up an accompanying audio image. But what about Bill Ward? If Black Sabbath is still one the heaviest (I would argue the heaviest) of metal bands, and we know how important a drummer is to a band, what is it about Bill Ward that help make Sabbath so great?

One thing Bill Ward provided Sabbath, I think, was their massive groove. What critics called plodding, I call monstrous, earth-shaking funk.

Punk Daddy

noreply@blogger.com (Larry) — Mon, 04 May 2009 18:47:00 +0000

The older I get, my life takes on more and more bourgeois trappings. I have a decent white-color job, a happy marriage, a smart child, a house with a two car garage, two cars, a nice green lawn, etc. Curiously, at the same time, I find a need to keep pushing my music in new directions.

The latest trapping is that we are sending our daughter to an all-girls private school next year. The main motivation is that middle schools in Columbus Public suck for the most part. There are all sorts of enriching programs in elementary school and high school, and not a heck of a lot in middle school. On top of that, the girls' school has a very strong and committed feminist agenda, which we definitely support. As one of the school's administrators said in a presentation, in middle school, all most girls care about is gaining the approval of boys, and there are greater things in the world than the opinion of a thirteen-year-old boy. Amen.

As you have no doubt guessed, private school is expensive, even with the financial aid the school is providing us. Luckily, we already live a fairly humble lifestyle, but we will no doubt have to take a look at the family finances and budget accordingly. But it is so worth it. Before you are a parent, you wonder if you will be able to make sacrifices for your children. Once you are a parent, you don't even think of these things as sacrifices. Why else do I have a day job if not to give my daughter more opportunity?

What is unexpected is that this situation is helping me push my music career a little farther. I'm definitely on the lookout for more film scoring projects, maybe some silent film accompaniment. Of course, I can also try to get a few more jazz gigs. Private school is strengthening my artistic resolve.

Another issue with the private girls' school thing is the reactions we get from people. For a lot of people -- especially "open-minded" liberals -- the whole situation smacks of elitism. Some people will out-and-out tell you so to your face. There is also a lot of misconceptions about the school: that there are etiquette classes, that the girls are sheltered and coddled, etc. It doesn't help that we live in the west side of Columbus in a section that is fiercely and proudly working class.

When people start telling me what I should or should not do, the teenager in me rises to the surface, and the opposition galvanizes my resolve. It reminds me of some of the punk/noise things I did when I lived in Miami where the goal a lot of time was to piss people off. Although I don't typically make music anymore that is solely directed at confrontation (although I still love to see a room of 20-somethings holding their ears while I play), I get a little thrill when something I've decided to do makes people angry, especially when this decision really has no direct bearing on their lives.

So sending my daughter to a private girls school becomes an act of punk defiance. One of the hallmarks of punk, as I read it, was to challenge people's preconceptions about the way things are supposed to be. Thus homely guys become rock stars, tough girls rock harder that lame-add dudes, the talentless become artists, and so on. In my case, I like showing that a middle aged guy with a white-color career can play in crappy basements and sleep on dirty couches and still send his daughter to a fine school. As HR said, "We will not do what they want or do what they say."

"Oh No."

Soul of Rock and Roll

noreply@blogger.com (Larry) — Mon, 04 May 2009 02:50:00 +0000

Saw Georges, one of the folks who own Pimalia, the label that has started to release my silent film scores. So far the sales have been modest, but he seems to have faith that we will eventually be able to reach the people interested in this sort of music. We also discussed my next release, which is currently being prepared by my friend Steve Perakis at his studio. Larry Marotta Silent Film Scores Volume 2 will tentatively feature guitar scores for The Cage, The Seashell and the Clergyman, and The Hearts of Age. Look for it in the next few months on your favorite online music source. Until then, you can find Volume One on iTunes and Amazon. Just search for my name.

It other exciting news, the posting Sharing from my humble little blog is featured on the May blog carnival at The Soul of Rock and Roll along with several other fine postings, all worthy of your consideration.

PD

noreply@blogger.com (Larry) — Sun, 03 May 2009 01:55:00 +0000

In an odd turn of events, I have downloaded the music patching software PureData and have decided to learn how to use it. It's an open source application, so the price was right. I have a lot of math to learn, and a lot of terminology, but my mind has been needing some challenges lately. I'm not sure what will come of this, or how this will come out in my music, so we'll have to see.

Munny fun

noreply@blogger.com (Larry) — Fri, 01 May 2009 15:15:00 +0000

Photos of our creations from the April 19 Mini Munny Mobile Decorating Party at Rivet here in Columbus.

Becky's:

Kate's:

And mine:

Piano

noreply@blogger.com (Larry) — Thu, 30 Apr 2009 20:54:00 +0000

I've been practicing piano a lot lately in preparation for the program of songs by Bertolt Brecht that Deb Colvin-Tener and I are presenting at the OSU Urban Arts Space in September. I studied piano formally only about a year and a half (oddly enough, I studied guitar formally for only a year and a half -- do I see a trend?), so it takes a lot of work for me play basic stuff.

I have noticed that my approach to the piano is radically different than my approach to the guitar. While my touch on the guitar can be pretty rough at times, I am peculiarly graceful and delicate on the keyboard. It is almost as if piano lets me explore my musical yin as compared to my guitar yang. I can't say that I have ever caressed the guitar like I do the piano. In fact, I don't think I have ever caressed the guitar.

The thing is with guitars, playing them hard with a pick brings all sorts of interesting sounds out of them. You can get some really percussive effects, and you can bring out some of the higher overtones on the strings really nicely. And when you're improvising on acoustic in a group, it is these harder sounds that tend to cut through. All of those beautiful artificial harmonics would just disappear in the mix.

The closest I may ever come to playing a guitar gently is when I play jazz ballads like Lost in the Stars or Polka Dots and Moonbeams. But even then, I don't feel like I'm playing gently as much as I'm surpressing my natural tendency to play everything like My Generation. But there are some delicate players that I really love -- Wes Montgomery, Ted Greene, Pat Metheny, Bill Frissell. But I don't really play that way. I can't really play pretty on the guitar. And if I do, it is probably a process akin to method acting.

On piano, I tend to prefer sounds in the piano range more than forte. Piano sounds so nice quiet, and when I play softly, I feel like am really caressing the instrument and coaxing little sighs out of it. Whatever it is I do on guitar, it is sure to be bruised and sore afterwards.

I wish I could make beautiful, pretty music on the guitar, but I don't know if that is my thing. Sometimes it bothers me that most of the music I make isn't beautiful, and my tone can be harsh and jarring. But I feel much more comfortable playing pretty things on the piano.

Sharing

noreply@blogger.com (Larry) — Wed, 29 Apr 2009 18:28:00 +0000

As I have said before on this blog, I do not make a living from playing guitars weirdly, or playing them normally for that matter. I have a corporate day job where I am well appreciated and fairly compensated. However, I never have seen a hard and fast division between my day job and music. Just because I'm sitting at a desk from 9 to 5 each day doesn't mean that I stop being a musician during this time. I think about music a lot; I notice sounds constantly.

One of the most thrilling moments in my corporate career was when I realized I could download iTunes onto my PC and then see everyone else in the building's shared playlists. I've always been a huge fan of mix tapes and I'm always fascinated to see what people put on them and how they decide to order the music. The syntax can sometimes be just as revealing than the phonics. But that is a whole other discussion.

For the most part, as you might have guessed, most people listen to the same stuff. There's plenty of Jars of Clay, Alan Jackson, Sarah Maclachlan, Outkast. Then the people who listen to "cooler" stuff all seem to listen to the same cool stuff: Velvet Underground, Tom Waits, Beck. There are very few oddities and incongruities.

Until you get to my list.

From the minute I downloaded iTunes, my playlists have been huge exercises in musical exhibitionism. If I cannot be diverse, eclectic, and odd in my work interactions, my playlist allows me to show off the tattoo I keep hidden under my sensible khakis.

So what's on my playlist? There's Slayer and Glenn Gould. There's Merbow and Stevie Wonder. There's Sidney Bechet and Morton Feldman. It's a really odd mix. Once, through a tech slip-up, my playlist was moved from my PC to the main share drive, which meant that everyone could see it (and, unfortunately, it was posted as "Larry Marotta's Library"). As one of my co-workers commented, "You have really eclectic tastes in music."

Of course, all of the music is on there because I sincerely enjoy it. It certainly doesn't shock me at all. But there is an odd thrill of creating this musical persona that is an amorphous, monstrous beast, and is quite incomprehensible to anyone who is not me. It's like having a nipple piercing that no one knows about (I don't, BTW). I like that.

It is really important to me that people discover and listen to and appreciate my list. I am constantly checking under the Sharing tab in Preferences to see if someone is listening to my playlist and I am disappointed when no one is.

Then I try to imagine who the listener is, and what song or artist he or she could be listening to at that moment. Then I imagine what the listener is thinking about the music. Of course, though, it is all anonymous. I have no idea which employee owns which playlist, and most people probably don't know which list is mine. Sometimes I do manage to figure out which list belongs to whom. But sometimes I can't find out, even if I do try. For example, there was a playlist for a while that had some really neat guitar stuff -- Snakefinger, Henry Kaiser, Fred Frith -- but after the company let a bunch of contract workers go, I never saw that list again, and I never did find out who that kindred spirit was.

There are some odd things that do happen through my list. Like my conservative work friend who discovered to her chagrin that I liked Sabbath and Slayer, who then apologized for her more traditional tastes. (I assured her that it was unfair to compare most people's range of music tastes to mine. I did not, however, tell her my theory that Sabbath was the original Christian rock band.)

And then I am sometimes confounded by odd playlists that have mostly very junky mainstream music on them and then something incongruously good like Eno or Kraftwerk or Bjork. How does that happen?

I guess it all boils down to the fact that it is music that I believe makes me interesting and worth knowing. When I started playing guitar, I was a real misfit of a boy who looked a mess and had no aptitude for anything physical. Playing guitar made me cool and worth noticing. So even to this day, I think it is the musical choices reflected in my playlist that make me interesting, not how well I do my work, or what I talk about at the lunch table. The person who listens to Boredoms, Pat Metheny, and Pandit Pran Nath is much more interesting that the person writing reports and plugging in dates on an Excel spreadsheet.

Overdue

noreply@blogger.com (Larry) — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 14:57:00 +0000

Just when you think things are bad, there is always something like a swine flu pandemic to make things a little bit worse. Of course, we have no idea what will come of any of this. Not really. If we are supposed to learn something about humanity's hubris because of this virus, it is also another kind of hubris to think we know whether this is catastrophic or not. We can't really know.

What has struck me in a lot of coverage of the swine flu is the use of the word overdue. The context for this is that with the major Spanish flu pandemic that swept the world at the end of the Great War in 1919, or the milder Hong Kong flu that swept the world in 1968, we are now somehow overdue for a pandemic. If you notice, things for which we are overdue are almost always negative and are meant to teach us some lesson. Humanity is never overdue for peace, love, happiness, or even a good hand job or a nice box of Belgian chocolates. Humanity is typically overdue for nasty things like hurricanes, tsunamis, terrorist attacks, and diseases.

It is a cliched writer's device to quote the dictionary. In just about every speech contest in high school, someone would always proclaim "Webster's dictionary defines _____ as," and then would go about supporting or augmenting that definition. But in this case, I think a dictionary definition is useful in trying to understand why people are somehow overdue for a flu pandemic.

Merriam Webster gives several senses of the word "overdue." One is the sense of being unpaid, as in an overdue bill. This suggests that something was supposed to have occurred at a specified time, and we did not fulfill our end of the contract, i.e., the phone bill was due on 4/1/09 and I forgot to pay it and now it is overdue. Under this meaning, humanity was supposed to suffer a major pandemic by a proscribed date, and we did not fulfill our end of the deal by contracting the flu. This sense suggests that someone knew when a pandemic was supposed to happen (or, loosely, when we think it should have occurred). Of course, having statistical and scientific data that suggests that a pandemic should occur is not exactly knowing when it should occur. So unless we could have been certain of a date or reasonable range, we can't really be overdue.

The next meaning is "delayed beyond an appointed time." This again suggests that we have a knowable point in time after which, if the thing doesn't occur, we can say it is overdue: "The plane from Tashkent was supposed to arrive at 11 a.m. Since it is now 11:30 a.m. and the plane has yet to arrive, the plane is overdue." Again, this works only if we have a promise of when something is to occur and that time comes and goes and it doesn't happen. But I know of no appointed time when a pandemic was to occur, so we can't really be overdue. Unless you have a deep belief that something will occur at a certain time as some apocalyptic religions do. For instance, if you believed the Y2K hype that the world was supposed to end in the year 2000, then you might say that we are overdue for an apocalypse. But did anyone believe that a flu pandemic was scheduled to happen last year, so now we are overdue and we're all waiting and waiting?

Vladimir: You have a message from Mr. Godot.

Boy: Yes Sir.

Vladimir: He won't come this evening.

Boy: No Sir.

Vladimir: But he'll come to-morrow.

Boy: Yes Sir.

Vladimir: Without fail.

Next meaning: excessive. "Although all of the boys vandalized the school, only Scott was expelled. He received an overdue share of the blame." I don't think this is what is meant, but if a flu pandemic wiped out the human race, then we might say it was overdue. There certainly wouldn't be anyone around to learn any lessons.

Last meaning: "more than ready." This is what I think most people really mean when it is said that we are overdue for a pandemic. This is where there is a stern moral sense to all of this discussion, along with a prophetic tone. In this sense, human beings have been allowed to think that they are greater than nature, and that they have the knowledge to counter any challenge, artificial or natural, and now they somehow must be taught a lesson and shown their place in the cosmos. The party has gone on too long and the retribution is overdue.

First of all, I don't know what lessons we are to learn from a catastrophic pandemic. Should I have behaved differently? Should I have eaten more broccoli and less pork? Should I have washed my hands and gone to church more often? It seems that the crime, if any, is not recognizing our own powerlessness as people. But in what fashion are we supposed to recognize our powerlessness? And then the suitable punishment for our hubris is to have a lot of people die? And once they die, what lessons are we to have learned and how will we behave differently as a result?

The pandemic is not the same situation as, say, global warming. With the spectre of global warming, there are many lessons we can learn and act on right now: recycling, using less oil, being mindful of our resources. But what is an equivalent reaction by the average person to a pandemic? They should have studied virology a little more?

The thing is, anything that would prevent a pandemic is out of the control of the average person, and the things that increase the number of the deaths in a pandemic -- limited resources, inequitable distribution of medicine and medical care, etc. -- are not things we can easily affect since these are in control of those in power like politicians and insurance companies and banks.

Let us also not forgot that this new swine flu is punishment for white Westerners. AIDS has been a major health crisis in sub-Saharan Africa for years with a generation of "AIDS orphans" the result. Was this something for which African children were overdue? Since they saw themselves as being above nature, they are learning their lesson by having their parents killed off? Our swine flu is certainly puny when compared to that. But those are only black people in Africa.

I know this is a grotesque example, but purporting to know when catastrophic events when and should occur, and that people should learn lessons from them, is a very high level of hubris indeed.

Return of the Sun

noreply@blogger.com (Larry) — Fri, 24 Apr 2009 17:30:00 +0000

Since I grew up in South Florida, I took the sun for granted. It's pretty much always sunny in South Florida. If it rains, it's usually in the late afternoon and is here and gone in a matter of moments. There are not really the days on end of gloom and damp, chilly rain.

Lots of people ask me why I moved from South Florida to Columbus, Ohio. I will usually say something about the variety of weather we have up here in the Midwest, while Miami just has about 10 months of summer, about 6 weeks of early spring, and about two weeks of potential chill. And to be honest, there are days in Ohio -- the first warm day after winter, the first crisp day after a brutal summer -- that have no equivalents in Miami.

Where I used to live.

Where I live now.

But it's the sun, our very shy sun, that can make Columbus so challenging for me. The older I get, the more issues I have with the winter. Clinically speaking, I probably have Seasonal Affective Disorder, but I haven't had an official diagnosis. It's not a major case, although my family can now predict that I will not be at my best from January through March, and maybe through April if the weather stays lousy. It makes me sometimes wonder why I would choose to live in such a gloomy place. It's not really the cold -- I can deal with that -- but the light.

I remember when I was in South Florida at the tail end of winter about two years ago. I was driving a car back to Ohio that my parents were giving me, and I stopped along the ocean. It was a nice small beach in Palm Beach County, and it was about 65 degrees out, which is sort of chilly for South Floridians. I remember standing on a concrete walkway along an inlet, watching boats traveling in and out packed with weathered wooden lobster traps. The salt air was warm and seabirds perched nearby. I had a definite "I moved to Ohio, why?" moment.

But I'm 41 now, which is just about the age when my parents got fed up with the cold and moved from New Jersey to Miami. It is only age-appropriate that I should want the warmer weather in middle age. I don't know if I can live out the rest of my adulthood in the gloom.

However, moving back to South Florida is not really an option. So much of the art and music I love is up north, and my colleagues are, too. And as far a day job goes, I don't think there is any real work for me down there. If anything, I could see living in a city like Chicago, but that just means more cold and gloom.

As an artist, I feel the least creative and inspired in the winter. Through the years, I've learned not to take this as a sign of diminishing abilities. I just know on the first really nice day, everything will come back to me.

But I'm getting better at dealing with it. I find that if I give myself "assignments," then I can keep my mind going through the worst of the clouds and rain and cold. So if I feel aimless, I'll read a book (like The Best and the Brightest by David Halberstam), practice a piece on piano (as I'm doing with the Brecht/Weill Salomon Song), research a particular topic (like the guitar method I'd like to actually put together). Or write in this blog, like I'm doing now.

If you note the date of the previous posting and compare it to this one, you will see the outline of the worst time of the year for me. It should be no surprise to anyone the at the time of the writing of this entry it is sunny and 82 and the grass is green and the trees are covered with buds.

Larry at Stanford

noreply@blogger.com (Larry) — Wed, 25 Feb 2009 22:19:00 +0000

One of the nice things about playing music is that it affords you interesting opportunities. Just such an opportunity arose last week when I was able to travel out to Stanford University in Palo Alto, California, and play a piece by my good friend Rocco Di Pietro. A lot of people that I went to school with went to prestigious schools like Harvard and Stanford and others, and that still smarts a bit all of these years later. So it was nice to be part of such as well-known school, even if just for a couple of days.

Rocco is an artist-in-residence at CCRMA, the Center for Computer Research in Music and Acoustics, and there was a winter concert on Thursday, February 12, in which his piece Later was to be the final piece. The performance hall was especially nice: nice wood floors, state of the art equipment, and 16 speakers hung from the ceiling.

Of course, the facilities at Stanford were amazing. And the people were super nice to me and to my daughter, who was traveling with me. The concert went really well and the piece was very well received. I hope to be able to go back sometime.

Marotta Hour #4

noreply@blogger.com (Larry) — Tue, 13 Jan 2009 05:27:00 +0000

I'm in the process of gearing up for the fourth installment of the Marotta Hour series at the OSU Urban Arts Space. The gallery continues to be super supportive, and we seem to keep attracting a small audience for ourselves.

This Thursday, January 15, we are presenting a program called Chamber Works of Brian A. Casey. Brian, if you don't know, passed away last September at age 36. He left behind hundreds of pieces of music that my friend Steve Perakis is just starting to go through. Brian is probably best known for as composer/trombonist for Honk, Wail, and Moan here in Columbus. Since so many of Brian's jazz compositions have been heard and enjoyed by so many people, we decided to devote some time to performing some of Brian's lesser heard chamber works.

It's an interesting ensemble of people: Steve on bass, Tim Perdue on trumpet, Ryan Jewell on drums, Marina Peterson on cello, Ted Royalty on vibes, me on guitar, and newcomer to our world, Marshall Rendina on piano. We had a rehearsal Sunday evening and the music sounded great and took some interesting turns, which you would expect considering the quality of the musicianship of those involved.

As usual, doors open at 6:30, music starts at 7 p.m. sharp and continues until 8 p.m. Admission is by a suggested donation of $5-$10. The Urban Arts Space is on 50 W. Town Street in downtown Columbus in the old Lazarus building. Rich Street to the south and Front Street to the west are good bets for parking.